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Forschungen zum Alten Testament Edited by
Konrad Schmid (Zürich) ∙ Mark S. Smith (Princeton) Hermann Spieckermann (Göttingen) ∙ Andrew Teeter (Harvard)
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Gary N. Knoppers
Judah and Samaria in Postmonarchic Times Essays on Their Histories and Literatures
Mohr Siebeck
Gary N. K noppers, 1956–2018; 1979 BA; 1982 M.Div.; 1986 MA; 1988 PhD; 2003–04 president of the Canadian Society of Biblical Studies; 2009–11 President of the Biblical Colloquium; 2014–18 John A. O’Brien Professor of Theology at the University of Notre Dame.
ISBN 978-3-16-156804-6 / eISBN 978-3-16-156805-3 DOI 10.1628/978-3-16-156805-3 ISSN 0940-4155 / eISSN 2568-8359 (Forschungen zum Alten Testament) The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbiblio graphie; detailed bibliographic data are available at http://dnb.dnb.de. © 2019 Mohr Siebeck Tübingen, Germany. www.mohrsiebeck.com This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, in any form (beyond that permitted by copyright law) without the publisher’s written permission. This applies particularly to reproductions, translations and storage and processing in electronic systems. The book was typeset and printed on non-aging paper by Gulde Druck in Tübingen. It was bound by Buchbinderei Spinner in Ottersweier. Printed in Germany.
Preface In researching and preparing this book, I was aided by many different colleagues, students, and institutions. I am very grateful for their assistance, good counsel, insights, and encouragement. Seven chapters in the present volume are entirely new, while four are revised, updated, and expanded versions of previously published papers. Thanks go to the publishers in question for allowing me to republish materials from these earlier essays. The author is pleased to acknowledge his gratitude to the Albright Institute of Archaeological Research, especially Matthew Adams, Margaret Cohen, and Sarah Fairman, for their kind hospitality during my fellowship stay in Spring 2017 and in early Spring 2018. The Albright Institute of Archaeological Research is an unparalleled resource in archaeology, epigraphy, and ancient Near Eastern studies in Jerusalem. Thanks also go to the École biblique et archéologique française de Jérusalem, in particular its librarian, Pawel Trzopek, OP, for graciously allowing me to use the excellent St. Stephen’s Library in biblical studies. Alan Krieger, the Theology Librarian at the University of Notre Dame and his administrative staff have shown an uncanny ability to acquire monographs from little known publishers and have them promptly delivered to my mailbox in the Theology Department. I am grateful both for this kindness and for the first-rate holdings of the Hesburgh Libraries. In preparing this volume, I was assisted by graduate students in the Christianity and Judaism in Antiquity subsection of the Theology Department at the University of Notre Dame, in particular Pauline Buisch and Mark Lackowski, who copy-edited some of the essays. Special thanks are due to Raleigh Heth, also of Notre Dame, who kindly prepared the indices. Members of the Société d’Études Samaritaines kindly provided comments upon earlier versions of the first and fourth chapters in this volume. Participants in the Persian Period section of the international meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature offered helpful questions about an earlier version of the fifth chapter of this collection, while participants in the Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah section of the Society of Biblical Literature presented me with valuable feedback on an earlier version of the sixth essay in this collection. Members of the Biblical Colloquium graciously offered their commentary and insights on an earlier iteration of the last chapter in the volume.
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I would like to express my gratitude to Konrad Schmid, Mark Smith, Hermann Spieckermann, and Andrew Teeter, the editors of the Forschungen zum Alten Testament series of Mohr Siebeck publishing house, who accepted the present volume in their series. Katharina Gutekunst, the Program Director of Theology and Jewish Studies at Mohr-Siebeck, kindly oversaw the editorial process of transforming the manuscript into published form. Finally, I would like to thank my wife and partner Laura for her selfless generosity and insightful counsel as I pursued this project. This volume is dedicated to her honor. 21 August 2018, South Bend, Indiana
G.N.K
*** Gary Knoppers passed away from complications of pancreatic cancer on December 22, 2018. Laura Knoppers would like to thank the many friends and fellow scholars who have offered warm and generous tributes to Gary’s memory. She would also like to thank Mohr Siebeck for their time and attention in seeing this book through the final stages of production.
Table of Contents Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . V Acknowledgements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . IX List of Abbreviations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . XI Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
Part One: Oppositions and Alliances Chapter One: Archenemies? Samarians and Judeans in the Early Persian Period . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Chapter Two: “Should You Help the Wicked and Love Those who Hate Yhwh?” Alliances, Foreign Subjugation, and Empire in Chronicles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 Chapter Three: Archaizing Tendencies in Samaria’s Religious Culture during Hellenistic Times . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75 Chapter Four: Samaritan Conceptions of Jewish Origins and Jewish Conceptions of Samaritan Origins: Any Common Ground? . . . . . . 91
Part Two: Temple Matters Chapter Five: The Temple at Mt. Gerizim in the Persian Period: Precedents, Problems, and Paradoxes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 129 Chapter Six: Were the Jerusalem and Mt. Gerizim Temples the Economic Epicenters of Their Provinces? Assessing the Textual, Archaeological, and Epigraphic Evidence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153 Chapter Seven: The Samaritan Schism or the Judaization of Samaria? Reassessing Josephus’ Account of the Mt. Gerizim Temple . . . . . . . 177
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Part Three: Altered Altars Chapter Eight: Altared States: Rewriting the Constitution in Josephus’ Antiquitates Judaicae . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195 Chapter Nine: Altared History: Israel’s Four Altars in Josephus’ Reworking of the Joshua Story . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 223 Chapter Ten: The Altered Altar: Sacred Geography in Pseudo-Philo’s Biblical Antiquities . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 247 Chapter Eleven: The Samaritan Tenth Commandment: Origins, Content, and Context . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
Index of Sources . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 301 Index of Modern Authors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 321 Index of Subjects . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 327
Acknowledgements Earlier versions of parts of some essays in this book appeared in earlier publications. I would like to thank the respective journals and publishing houses for their kind permission to reuse this older material. Chapter Two: ‘“Yhwh is Not with Israel’: Alliances as a Topos in Chronicles,” in Catholic Biblical Quarterly 58 (1996): 601–26. Chapter Three: “Aspects of Samaria’s Religious Culture during the Early Hellenistic Period,” in The Historian and the Bible: Essays in Honour of Lester L. G rabbe (ed. P. R. Davies and D. V. Edelman; LHBOTS 530; London: T. & T. Clark Continuum, 2010), 159–74. Chapter Four: “Samaritan Conceptions of Jewish Origins and Jewish Conceptions of Samaritan Origins: Any Common Ground?” in Die Samaritaner und die Bibel: historische und literarische Wechselwirkungen zwischen biblischen und samaritanischen Traditionen (ed. Jörg Frey, Ursula Schattner-Rieser, and Konrad Schmid; SJ 70; StSam 7; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2012), 81–118 Chapter Seven: “The Samaritan Schism or the Judaization of Samaria? Reassessing Josephus’ Account of the Mt. Gerizim Temple,” in Making a Difference: Essays on the Bible and Judaism in Honour of Tamara Cohn Eskenazi (ed. David J. A. Clines, Kent Richards, and Jacob L. Wright; Hebrew Bible Monographs 49; Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2012), 163–78.
List of Abbreviations Abbreviations for works in biblical and ancient Near Eastern studies follow those used in the Eisenbrauns stylesheet, the SBL Handbook of Style (2nd ed.; Atlanta: SBL Press, 2014), and Old Testament Abstracts 24 (Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association, 2001). Abbreviations for additional works in classics follow those used in the Oxford Classical Dictionary (3rd ed.; ed. S. Hornblower and A. Spawforth; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996). Other abbreviations included within the work follow below. Abū ʾl Fath ˙
E. Vilmar, Abulfathi Annales Samaritani: quos Arabice edidit cum prolegomenis. Gotha: Perthes, 1865; English translation by P. L. Stenhouse, The Kitāb al–tarīkh of Abū ʾl Fath. Studies in Judaica 1. Syd˙ ney: Mandelbaum, 1985. Adler-Séligsohn E. N. Adler and M. Séligsohn, “Une nouvelle Chronique Samari taine,” REJ 44 (1902): 188–222; 45 (1902): 70–98, 223–54; 46 (1903): 123–46. JSP Judea and Samaria Publications. Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority. MacDonald II J. MacDonald, The Samaritan Chronicle No. II. BZAW 107. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1969. MGI Mt. Gerizim Inscriptions. Y. Magen, H. Misgav, and L. Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations, I: The Aramaic, Hebrew and Samaritan Inscriptions. JSP 2. Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2004. Sam Joshua T. W. J. Juynboll, Chronicon Samaritanum: Arabice conscriptum, cui titulus est Liber Josuae. Leiden: Luchtmans, 1848; English translation by O. T. Crane, The Samaritan Chronicle or the Book of Joshua the Son of Nun. New York: Alden, 1890. SP A. Tal and M. Florentin, The Pentateuch: The Samaritan Version and the Masoretic Version. Tel Aviv: Haim Rubin Tel Aviv University Press, 2010 (Hebrew). StSam Studia Samaritana. Berlin: de Gruyter. TAD Textbook of Aramaic Documents from Ancient Egypt, by B. Porten and A. Yardeni; Vol. 1: Letters (1986); Vol. 2: Contracts (1989); Vol. 3: Literature, Accounts, Lists (1993); Vol. 4: Ostraca and Assorted Inscriptions (1999). Jerusalem: Hebrew University. Tulida M. Florentin, The Tulida – A Samaritan Chronicle: Text, Translation, Commentary. Jerusalem: Ben Zvi, 1999 (Hebrew). WDSP Wâdī ed-Dâlīyeh Samaria Papyri. D. M. Gropp, Wadi Daliyeh II: The Samaria Papyri from Wadi Daliyeh. DJD 28. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001; J. Dušek, Les manuscrits araméens du Wadi Daliyeh et la Samarie vers 450–332 av. J.-C. CHANE 30. Leiden: Brill, 2007.
Introduction In its portrayal of Jesus’ long journey to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51–19:27), the Gospel of Luke has Jesus straddle the border between Samaria and Galilee. While on his way, ten lepers confront Jesus and beg him for mercy as he passes through a certain village.1 Having compassion on those suffering from skin disease, Jesus directs them: “Go show yourselves to the priests.”2 As they proceed to follow Jesus’ instruction, the lepers find themselves healed from their illness. Yet, of the ten, only one returns, glorifying God in a loud voice, falling at the feet of Jesus, and thanking him. This particular person was a Samaritan. Expressing astonishment, Jesus responds: “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Has no one but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?” (Luke 17:17–18). This story of the ten lepers (Luke 17:11–19) portrays Jesus endorsing a nonJew, the one whom Jesus explicitly labels a foreigner (ὁ ἀλλογενὴς οὗτος; Luke 17:18), as an example of someone who shows proper gratitude to God.3 Like the parable of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:29–37), the story of the ten lepers trades on the tensions between Jews and Samaritans in the first century CE to interrogate long held beliefs, behaviors, and commitments. For many readers, the New Testament pericope of the ten lepers underscores the differences of the Samaritan community and casts a long backward shadow on its origins and history. My recent monograph takes issue with the prevailing scholarly view of Samarian religion as a late schismatic development, contending that the dominant model of binary opposition occludes, rather than illumines, much of the complicated history of relations between the two groups.4 To the contrary, I argue that Samarian religion was a particular outgrowth of Yahwistic religion in northern Israel, not simply a late development but related to ongoing developments in Judah, sometimes in cooperation, sometimes in parallel, sometimes in competition. The monograph examines the history of Samaria in the Neo-As1 This story, like the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:29–37), only appears in Luke. 2 Jesus does not identify the particular priests before whom they were to appear. Presumably, the Jewish lepers would travel to Jewish priests to be examined, while the Samaritan leper would travel to Samaritan priests to be examined (Lev 13:45–46, 49; 14:1–20; Num 5:1– 3). 3 The term ἀλλογενὴς refers to an outsider, literally to someone of another race. 4 G. N. K noppers, Jews and Samaritans: The Origins and History of Their Early Relations (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013).
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syrian, Neo-Babylonian, Persian, and Hellenistic periods, and the portraits of Judahite-northern Israelite relations in Kings, Ezra-Nehemiah, and Chronicles. Acknowledging that both Jews and Samaritans view the Pentateuch as canonical scripture, the work explores the ways in which Jews and Samaritans could understand key passages pertaining to Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal and to the centralization of Yahwistic worship differently. The current collection of essays builds upon and extends this comparative exploration of Judean-Samarian relations. Some essays deal with material remains (e.g., the archaeological excavations in Jerusalem and in Mt. Gerizim) and epigraphic discoveries (e.g., the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions), while others focus on Judean literary texts (e.g., Ezra, Chronicles, Josephus, Pseudo-Philo) and Samaritan literary texts (e.g., the Samaritan tenth commandment, the Chronicon Samaritanum). What all of these essays share in common is a concern to shed new light on the multi-faceted character of Judean and Samarian history in Persian, Hellenistic, and Roman times. The work explores both commonalities and differences, rivalries and relationships, as these communities were engaging one another in greater depth and complexity than scholars have previously thought. The essays extend the scope of my investigations chronologically – including three chapters on Josephus, as well as chapters on Pseudo-Philo, the Samaritan tenth commandment, and one of the Samaritan medieval chronicles. The work also includes essays on the portrayals of northern-southern interactions in Ezra and Chronicles and discusses the available material remains from Samaria and Judah, dating to the Persian and Hellenistic periods. The history of the sanctuaries in Jerusalem and Mt. Gerizim – their development, economic importance, and administrative functions – are the topic of two separate studies, while the dedicatory inscriptions from the area of the Mt. Gerizim temple comprise a separate study in their own right. The essays are organized according to a thematic, rather than a chronological outline. The eleven chapters examine interactions between the two communities under three related categories: Oppositions and Alliances, Temple Matters, and Altered Altars. The studies map relationships and rivalries, but also show differences within commonality and commonalities within difference.
I. Oppositions and Alliances The four chapters in the first section challenge assumptions about antagonisms, or explore how ancient writers constructed or disavowed alliances and relationships. Each involves the construction and negotiation of identity, shaping the past through the assertion of alliance or opposition. The first chapter, “Archenemies? Samarians and Judeans in the Early Persian Period,” revisits the complicated testimony of Ezra to show that Judeans and Samaritans were not, as is
Introduction
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often thought, continually at odds during the early Second Commonwealth. Such a persistent conviction in contemporary scholarship can be traced all the way back to antiquity. In the Antiquitates Judaicae of Josephus, the Samarians (or Samaritans) oppose every major Judean initiative undertaken during the early postmonarchic age. In Josephus’ rewriting of his major source (1 Esdras/Esdras α), the Samari(t)ans never function as allies or supporters of the repatriated expatriates. Close analysis of Ezra-Nehemiah does not support Josephus’ claims. The writers of Ezra 1–6 selectively engage the early postmonarchic era, highlighting what they deem to be critical moments in the life of the Judean community centered in Jerusalem. Even then, they do not depict Samaria as consistently obstructing the course of Judean reconstruction efforts. Indeed, the first segment under view, the first migration and return of the temple artifacts under Sheshbazzar, occurring during the reign of Cyrus the Great (Ezra 1:1–11; 5:13– 16), does not include any accusation of outside interference, whether by Samarians or by others. The essay proceeds by asking the same questions of the other particular moments portrayed in Ezra: the migration and rebuilding of the altar under the Judean governor Zerubbabel and the Judean high priest Jeshua (Ezra 2:1–3:13) during the reign of Darius I; the community’s rebuilding of the Jerusalem temple also during the reign of Darius I (Ezra 4:1–5; 5:1–6:22); the Judean attempt to rebuild Jerusalem and repair its walls (Ezra 4:7–23) during the reign of Arta xerxes I; and the migration of Ezra from Babylon and his campaign against exo gamy (Ezra 7:1–10:44) during the reign of Artaxerxes (presumably Artaxerxes I, but possibly Artaxerxes II).5 The chapter argues that each of the sub-periods portrayed in Ezra 1–10 bears its own distinctive character, development, and themes. Samaria plays a disruptive role in the mid-fifth century Judean attempt to rebuild Jerusalem and repair its walls (Ezra 7:7–23). Yet, the campaign against mixed marriages under Ezra’s leadership represents a different case (Ezra 7:1– 10:44). The detailed enumeration of foreign peoples (Ezra 9:1–2), which partially draws on the standard pentateuchal repertoire of indigenous nations, is as striking in what it contains – Canaanites, Hittites, Perizzites, Jebusites, Ammonites, Moabites, Egyptians, and Edomites – as it is in what it lacks, the one outsider group (Samarians) some scholars think dominate the entire Ezra narrative. 6 Such complexity in one prominent section of Ezra cautions us against making simplistic conclusions about the whole. 5 In the sequence of Ezra 4–6, which discusses the struggle to rebuild the temple in the time of Darius I, the narrative of 4:7–23, relating to the reign of Artaxerxes I, has been inserted achronologically to buttress the theme of outside opposition to Judean rebuilding efforts in Jerusalem. 6 In Ezra 9:1, I read with 1 Esd (Esdras α) 8:66 ‘Edomites,’ rather than ‘Amorites’ (MT and Esdras β).
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The second chapter, “‘Should You Help the Wicked and Love those who Hate Yhwh?’ Alliances, Foreign Subjugation, and Empire in Chronicles,” shows a contrasting impulse in the Chronicler’s disavowal of alliances both with the Israelite kingdom and with various foreign regimes, arguing that this opposition is part of a larger pattern in which the literary work rejects all pacts the independent kingdom of Judah forges with other states. The bold rewriting of Kings is remarkable, revealing a consistent effort to restructure the past to demonstrate both the illicit nature of such associations and, paradoxically, their futility. But why would the authors, living in the late Achaemenid/early Hellenistic period, a time in which Judeans had been living under foreign hegemony for centuries, be so concerned with pacts the Davidic regime forged with northern Israel and with other states? There is another complication. In the worldview of the authors, humans are not the only participants in history. Yhwh also acts in human affairs. Thus, what happens if a relationship with a foreign state is something that the deity imposes upon Judah as a punitive action, rather than something Judah seeks out as an instrument of its own diplomatic policy? How the work casts the condition of foreign subjection merits attention. In depicting the loss of political autonomy and the advent of foreign imperial hegemony, the literary work does not present a simplistic and one-dimensional approach to dealing with international affairs. In this respect, the discussion of foreign subjugation complicates and nuances the discussion of foreign alliances. The essay concludes by attempting to situate these nuanced foreign policy positions within the context of the shifting political currents of the fourth century BCE. An exploration of the paradigmatic treatment of international covenants and foreign subjugation provides, therefore, a fresh perspective on the complexities of how Judean writers in the early Second Temple period attempted to negotiate minority status within a world dominated by others. The third chapter in the first section, “Archaizing Tendencies in Samaria’s Religious Culture during Hellenistic Times,” looks at the personal names of those making dedications in the Mt. Gerizim temple inscriptions. The publication of approximately four hundred fragmentary inscriptions discovered in the vicinity of the Mt. Gerizim sacred precinct has enriched our understanding of what the temple meant to its patrons. The chapter analyzes the implications of these mostly votive inscriptions written in monumental Aramaic, cursive Aramaic, and paleo-Hebrew script for our understanding of Yahwistic Samarian religious culture in the late 3rd to early 2nd century BCE. Particularly striking are not only the appearance of many common Yahwistic proper names and common Hebrew names, but also the appearance of many archaizing personal names. By archaizing names, I mean the redeployment of familial, regional, and priestly anthroponyms associated with well-known figures in pentateuchal literature, such as Ephraim, Joseph, Judah, Levi, Miriam, and Simeon.
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Interestingly, many of the appellatives replicate priestly names present in the Torah, such as Abisha/Abishua, Amram, Eleazar, and Phinehas. When consid˙ ered along with the onomastic evidence in the Wâdī ed-Dâlīyeh Samaria Papyri, the inscriptions bear witness both to continuity and to development within the Yahwistic communities of Samaria. The inscriptions also show a concern to protect the sanctity of the name of the God of Israel, a concern shared by the Judeans of the time. The material remains indicate a strong religious overlap between Mt. Zion and Mt. Gerizim in the Hellenistic period. But more than that, the inscriptions, along with early Judean evidence, reveal that the Yahwistic communities in Samaria and Judah, whatever their differences, were aligning themselves with the legacy of classical Israel in similar ways. The fourth chapter analyzes one of the medieval Samaritan chronicles, the Chronicon Samaritanum (the so-called Samaritan book of Joshua), to revisit how the Samaritan writers of this work conceived of their original separation from Jews. In many popular treatments of Samaritan lore, the story of the priest Eli’s defection looms large. The decision of Eli and his kin to establish a sanctuary at Shiloh to compete with the established sanctuary at Mt. Gerizim forever alters relations between mainstream and dissident Israelites. Thus, the opposition to established orthopraxis appears early in landed Israelite history, rather than much later in postmonarchic times.7 Although there is some truth to the common reconstruction, the theory also has serious drawbacks in that it does injustice to the context and content of the Samaritan sources. As “Samaritan Conceptions of Jewish Origins and Jewish Conceptions of Samaritan Origins: Any Common Ground?” makes clear, the Chronicon Samaritanum is not primarily concerned to explain Eli’s actions, but rather to provide a broad reimagining of the Israelite past with particular attention given to the era of Joshua and the chieftains, which it portrays most positively. The faction headed by the errant Eli is, for instance, not the group accused of apostasy. That dubious distinction goes to a third group of errant Israelites. In dealing with Israel’s emergence in the land, the writers of the Chronicon Samaritanum show familiarity with a version of the historical books of the Hebrew Bible, but the story they tell is hardly the biblical story with a few new twists and turns. Rather than simply comprising a midrashic retelling of the Former Prophets, the Chronicon Samaritanum may be better categorized as a counter-narrative to the basic storyline found in the Former Prophets.8 A continuous era of communal solidarity and divine satisfaction, extending from the 7 By extension, the rift between Eli and his priestly brethren is viewed as the critical turning point in ultimately dividing southern Israelite (Jewish) history from northern Israelite (Samaritan) history. 8 The Chronicon Samaritanum contains many midrashic elements, but the presence of such midrashic exegesis does not explain the plot and shape of the whole.
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time of the entry into the land under Joshua through the end of the last of the chieftains (Shamsham/Samson) characterizes early Israel’s experience in the land. Unlike the biblical book of Judges, the Samaritan counter-narrative about the chieftains portrays most of this period (until the end) quite positively.9 The early history of landed Israel is a story of orthopraxis, corporate unity, and divine blessing, rather than a story of incomplete conquest, societal upheaval, and persistent heteropraxis. The force of the counter-narrative bears on the interpretation of biblical law, specifically that of Deuteronomy. The story of Israel under Joshua and the chieftains fulfills the dictates of laws mandating the unification of Yahwistic worship, once Israel experiences rest in the land (Deut 11:31–12:31). This casts the arrival of the tabernacle at Mt. Gerizim, the public sacrifices, and the corporate feasting in a new light.
II. Temple Matters The three essays in this section deal with the postmonarchic sanctuaries at Mt. Gerizim and Jerusalem: their differences and similarities. The first two essays concentrate mostly on the material remains, while the third revisits Josephus’s influential explanation of the founding of the Mt. Gerizim temple. One of the most exciting developments in southern Levantine archaeology in recent decades is the discovery of what most agree is a substantial temple complex at Mt. Gerizim, dating to the fifth century BCE, and a major expansion at the site, dating to Hellenistic times (late third to early second century BCE). Although some materials from the excavations (e.g., numismatics, faunal remains) have yet to be published, many others are now available. As the discussions about the material and epigraphic remains have progressed, fundamental questions of various kinds have emerged about the building construction and its purpose. The chapter, “The Temple at Mt. Gerizim in the Persian Period: Precedents, Problems, and Paradoxes,” addresses many of these issues. Was the architecture of the Mt. Gerizim shrine somehow derivative of the architecture (whether real or imagined) of the shrine on Mt. Zion? Another question involves the definition and purpose of the building in one or both phases of its design. May the shrine be best labelled as a monumental roofed edifice in either of its major stages of construction? Or should the sacred precinct be catalogued, as some scholars insist, as an open air altar in a walled plaza? Moreover, should similar things be said about the Jerusalem sanctuary in the Persian period, if not also in the Hellenistic period? In this theory, the main altar for animal sacrifice was subject to occasional, rather than daily use, by priests on behalf of clients in one 9 The battle Israel faces is not so much the threat posed by external enemies as it is the inner battle to maintain corporate discipline, internal cohesion, and focus.
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or more of the periods under view. The essay deals with these questions by examining five sets of literary, epigraphic, and archeological evidence: attested temple designs in the southern and northern Levant, the Mt. Gerizim building and faunal remains dating to the Persian and Hellenistic eras, the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions dating to the Hellenistic period, and the sacred precincts in the Roman period that some believe form parallels to the Mt. Gerizim building remains: the Haram Rāmet el-Halīl in Mamre and the Haram el-Halīl in Hebron. ˙ ˘ ˙ ˘ One of the major questions about early Second Temple history concerns the sanctuary’s role in the social and economic life of Judeans. Unlike the monarchic temple, the postmonarchic temple did not have a native Davidic regime to patronize it and support its daily operations. Did this mean that the Jerusalem temple was in a weaker position in the Persian period than it had been in the late Iron age? Or, conversely, did this mean, as many contend, that the temple was in a stronger position, because it putatively took on some of the economic, administrative, and social functions that the Davidic regime exercised in preexilic times? The chapter, “Were the Jerusalem and Mt. Gerizim Temples the Economic Epicenters of Their Provinces? Assessing the Textual, Archaeological, and Epigraphic Evidence,” takes aim at these questions by surveying the available economic evidence pertaining to the regions of Judah and Samaria from the late Iron age through the Persian period. Consideration of the Mt. Gerizim temple is relevant, because as a point of comparison, the archaeological and epigraphic evidence from the neighboring province of Samaria pertaining to the administrative center of Samaria and the sanctuary at Mt. Gerizim, may serve as a better analogy to comprehending the fundamental historical situation in Persian-period Yehud than are the analogies often made with the large palace-temple complexes in Babylon. By contrast, Samaria and Yehud were small sub-provinces located in a peripheral region within an immense international empire. Moreover, in each case, it may be argued that the Yahwistic temples (Jerusalem and Mt. Gerizim), were situated in locations that were at some distance from their provincial administrative centres (Ramat Rahel and Samaria). ˙ My work suggests that there is a fundamental disjunction between the economic and administrative prominence given to the Jerusalem temple in many scholarly reconstructions of Persian period history, based on certain readings of the prophets, Ezra-Nehemiah, Chronicles, and studies of ancient Babylonian temple structures, on the one hand, and recent analysis of the available material remains in the southern Levant, on the other hand. The relevant material remains are the excavation results at Jerusalem, Mizpah (Tell en-Nasbeh), and ˙ Ramat Rahel, and the Yehud stamp impressions. Indeed, the comparison with ˙ Samaria and Mt. Gerizim should correct some misguided assumptions in those studies, which attribute so much economic prominence to the Jerusalem temple.
8
Introduction
The publication of the Mt. Gerizim material remains offers new opportunities to revisit what ancient writers said about the Mt. Gerizim temple – its context, origins, and purposes. The chapter, “The Samaritan Schism or the Judaization of Samaria? Reassessing Josephus’ Account of the Mt. Gerizim Temple,” revisits the manner by which the Flavian historian portrays the origins of the Samaritan sanctuary, linking its origins to a marked deterioration in Judean-Samarian relations in the late fourth century BCE. Because many have cited the curious narrative Josephus relates (Ant. 11.302–346) about the building of a new temple on Mt. Gerizim to argue for a schism between Samarians and Judeans at this time, the story deserves critical scrutiny.10 Rather than employing Josephus’ writing as a tool to understand when the Samarian temple was first built, I am employing his work as a means to understand how one important early interpreter dealt with the complexity of Judean-Samarian relations during the era in which he thought the new shrine was constructed. In so doing, my study contests the standard theory that Josephus’ account portrays a major cleavage between the Yahwistic communities of Samaria and Judah during the period under view. Instead, my work argues that the Josephus narrative may be profitably read as explaining how the two communities actually grew closer in the wake of the new shrine’s arrival. In Josephus’ account, areas of Samaria, particularly Shechem and Mt. Gerizim, become more Judean during this period. Among the anecdotes about rivalry and division, one also finds concessions about religious contacts between the two groups, a temple resembling the Jerusalem temple, voluntary Judean migrations to Samaria, intermarriage between Judeans and Samarians, competitive emulation, sacerdotal blood relations, and cultural transformation. Rather than effectively rupturing relations between Samaria and Judah, the rise of the new shrine paradoxically leads to a strengthening of bilateral ties between Judeans and their Samarian neighbors.
III. Altered Altars The chapters in this section examine the rewriting of pentateuchal law and biblical literature by a variety of Judean and Samarian authors. Each deals with the major altar laws in the Pentateuch and how these critical legal precepts were selectively cited, extensively reworked, and freely rearranged according to the needs and dictates of early Jewish and Samaritan interpreters. Altars built and designated for animal sacrifice carried tremendous importance in the ancient world. As Milgrom and Lerner state: “The altar … is the earthly terminus of a 10 The tale paradoxically presupposes that Jews and Samaritans shared one united cult (in Jerusalem) prior to the erection of the new temple on Mt. Gerizim.
Introduction
9
Divine funnel for man’s communion with God.”11 As such, the altar for animal sacrifices was a critical component of how ancients implemented divine service. The first chapter on Josephus in this section, “Altared States: Rewriting the Constitution in Josephus’ Antiquitates Judaicae,” engages how the Flavian historian deals with the disparate pieces of pentateuchal legislation mandating major Israelite sacrificial installations for animal sacrifice. For Josephus, Israel’s main sacrificial altar is a constituent part of Israel’s unique identity. His pentateuchal exegesis develops the thesis that Israel’s ancestral constitution speaks distinctively of one holy city, one particular sanctuary, and one particular altar (Ant. 4.201). For Josephus, these tenets comport, in turn, with the propositions that “God is one and the race of the Hebrews is one” (Ant. 4.201). Given that Josephus overtly acknowledges three altars for animal sacrifice in his rewriting of pentateuchal statutes – the tabernacle bronze altar (Exod 27:1– 8), the altar at “the place” of God’s own choosing (Deut 11:31–12:31), and the Shechem area altar (Deut 27:2–13), how does he reconcile these disparate demands with his thesis about there being only one altar?12 That the altars are constructed with different materials (bronze, whole stones untouched by iron) would seem to pose a particular challenge for interpretation. If so, why does he transfer compositional traits of the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal altar to the altar mentioned in the centralization legislation and accommodate the timing of constructing the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal altar to that of implementing centralization? The extensive reworking of pentateuchal law raises yet another question. Given that he locates the one (central) altar to be “revealed through prophecy” (cf. 2 Sam 7:1–16//1 Chr 17:1–15) in Jerusalem, how does he explain the demands for the other altars? Readers may be surprised at the answers. One of the less appreciated facts about writers living in ancient world is the keen interest these classical and ancient Near Eastern authors took in antiquity. As one scholar observes: “Typically, ancient civilizations turned their back on the future, but they saw the past spread in front of them as the sole reality, always in view as an ideal to emulate.”13 Continuing in the form of memories, traditions, institutions, sites, monuments, customs, literature, art, and inscriptions, the past was a living part of contemporary reality. Many ancients would thus likely agree with the assessment expressed by a modern writer: “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”14 For Josephus, the sites the Israelites visited, the order in which they proceeded, the challenges they encountered, the institu11
J. M ilgrom and B. M. Lerner, “Altar,” EncJud 2 (2007): 12. As we shall see, Josephus also borrows from – but does not explicitly cite – the earthen and stone altar laws in the Covenant Code (Exod 20:24–26). 13 P-.A. Beaulieu, “Mesopotamian Antiquarianism from Sumer to Babylon,” in World Antiquarianism: Comparative Perspectives (ed. A. Schnapp et al.; Los Angeles: Getty Research Institute, 2013), 121–22. 14 William Faulkner, Requiem for a Nun (New York: Random House, 1951), Act 1, scene 3. 12
10
Introduction
tions they founded, and the rites they practiced were significant. Yet, the literature depicting such experiences, precisely because it stemmed from centuries past, could present problems for interpretation.15 Obscure details, contradictions, outdated practices, and puzzling gaps had to be explained and, if need be, reworked. Moreover, since both Jews and Samaritans identified with the name Israel and both groups claimed the heritage of early Israel as pivotal to their own self-identities, the manner in which literati, such as Josephus, retell the stories about Israel’s establishment in the land bears careful scrutiny. The main focus of the second chapter devoted to Josephus in this section, “Altared History: Israel’s Four Altars in Josephus’ Reworking of the Joshua Story,” is on Josephus’ rewrite of Joshua’s construction of an altar on Mt. Ebal near Shechem (MT Josh 8:30–35; LXX 9:2a–f). Nevertheless, the Mt. Ebal altar is only one in a sequence of four altars that Josephus posits in the land, located at Gilgal, Shiloh, Mt. Ebal, and in the Transjordan. Both in details and in major claims, the Flavian historian often departs from the precedent of his Vorlage. How Josephus construes the Mt. Ebal altar and the Shechem area more broadly and what this may say about Josephus’ stance toward the Samaritans may be best understood in the context of what he declares about early Israel’s other altars. Josephus does not deny the pan-Israelite sacrificial rites in the Shechem area; nevertheless, he minimizes their significance in conformity with his selective overwriting of pentateuchal altar laws. The same holds true more generally of Josephus’ handling of the Shechem area in the conclusion of the Joshua story (Josh 24:1–27). Josephus downplays the significance of the pan-Israelite convocation held at the site and ignores its sanctuary. In Josephus’ typology, only one of the four cultic sites – the tent of meeting at Shiloh – has long-term sacrificial significance in the communal life of Israel. Although some have viewed Josephus as largely indifferent to Samarian issues, an analysis of how thoroughly he reworks the Joshua story shows Josephus to be more aware of foundational issues distinguishing Samarians from Judeans than he is sometimes thought to be. Like Josephus, Pseudo-Philo presents Israel’s establishment in the Cisjordan as a formative period in the history of God’s people. During this time, Israel’s normative cultic institutions begin to take shape in the land. Because this was a narrative with which both Jews and Samaritans identified, the details of that story were important to both groups. This is true, even though only the Jews came to incorporate the book of Joshua into their canon.16 “The Altered Altar: Sacred Geography in Pseudo-Philo’s Biblical Antiquities” argues that the reconfiguration of the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal biblical texts is a significant compo15 See G. N. K noppers, I Chronicles 1–9 (AB 12; New York: Doubleday/New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004), 245–65, with further references. 16 There is no clear evidence to suggest that Josephus knew the work of Pseudo-Philo or vice-versa. The comparisons and contrasts that my analysis draws between their writings are simply designed to illumine their distinctive traits.
Introduction
11
nent in Pseudo-Philo’s presentation of early Israel, even though Pseudo-Philo only devotes brief attention to the pan-Israelite convocation at Mt. Ebal. Yet, his recasting of this material is telling. Much of the chapter’s argument is based on Pseudo-Philo’s discriminating reuse of select altar laws (Covenant Code and Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal altar legislation) and his application of these statutes to the tabernacle altar in his radical reimagining of the Joshua story. In this creative appropriation of biblical lore, the altered tabernacle altar comes to resemble the stone altar untouched by iron (tools) in the Mt. Ebal/Mt. Gerizim statutes. Pseudo-Philo thus overwrites the Joshua story, manifesting some clear notions of what the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal area of northern Israel contributed and did not contribute to ancient Israel’s historic legacy. Decoupling the educational and legal aspects of the Mt. Ebal rites from the sacrificial aspects, he does not mention any altar at Mt. Ebal at all. In this schema, Mt. Ebal is a national site of Torah inscription and recitation, but the Shechem area is not the site of a pan-Israelite altar, national sacrifices, and public feasting. Such claims about what did and did not transpire as the Israelites emerged in the land are tied, in turn, to his definition of orthopraxis in the Sinaitic era and how that orthopraxis was instantiated in the form of highly unified Israelite worship upon the completion of the land distributions. Such centralization before centralization was implemented initially at Gilgal and subsequently at Shiloh, when Joshua moved the tabernacle from the former to the latter. If the cultic establishments at Gilgal and Shiloh demonstrate orthopraxis in its best pre-temple form, the transgressive Transjordanian altar (presented against Joshua as a counter-cultus with sacrifices and a retinue of priests) demonstrates heteropraxis in a most dangerous form. Portraying the erection of the Transjordanian altar as the worst crisis in Israelite history since that of the Golden Calf, Pseudo-Philo inveighs against any nonconformist group that would challenge the unification of worship at the tabernacle (and, by extension, later at the temple).17 One of the best known, but least understood, features of the Samaritan Pentateuch is its version of the tenth commandment, appearing in both the Exodus and Deuteronomy versions of the Decalogue. The tenth word contains a series of directives remanding Israelites to Mt. Gerizim, where they are to construct an altar, offer sacrifices, and feast. There, upon Mt. Gerizim, the Israelites are to inscribe the Torah upon whole stones they are to assemble at the site and recite “all the words of this Torah” (SP Exod 20:13; Deut 5:17). This version of the tenth commandment is only attested in Samaritan literary sources and inscriptions. It is found neither among the pre-Samaritan pentateuchal manuscripts in the Dead Sea Scrolls nor in any Judean versions of the Pentateuch. 17 The temples at Mt. Gerizim and Leontopolis (Josephus, Ant. 12.387–388, 397; 13.62–73, 285; 20.36; J.W. 1.33; 7.420–436) come to mind as prominent examples.
12
Introduction
There is no doubt that the Decalogue plays a formative and enduring role in Samaritan tradition, yet the content of the tenth word raises its own set of issues. The pericope consists almost entirely of other pentateuchal texts that Samaritans share with Jews. Thus, some have queried why this material was introduced at all. If the commandment repeats instructions found elsewhere in the Pentateuch and lacks any mention of the Samaritan temple, why would Samaritan scribes compose this passage and interpolate it into the Ten Commandments? Was the composition written, as some think, in the last century BCE as a reaction to John Hyrcanus’ destruction of the Samaritan temple on Mt. Gerizim? Or, if the commandment is to be dated to the first centuries CE, as some others believe, was its composition a response to the rise of (Christian) heretics? In “The Samaritan Tenth Commandment: Origins, Content, and Context,” I suggest that the clear content and coherent structure of this pericope provide vital hints about the reasons for its composition. The inclusions, omissions, and arrangement of the tenth word reveal the intricate relationship between literary recycling and literary creativity. When older texts are selectively borrowed from their original contexts, placed in a new sequence, and inserted into entirely new literary settings, such texts take on new meaning. The interpolation of the new legislation within two critical literary contexts affects, in turn, the reading of the various passages from which it draws. In the case of the tenth commandment, then, the intent of Samaritan scribes may have been to impart a particular understanding of texts that were already well known, but whose meanings were disputed, rather than to make radical claims that were hitherto unknown in the Pentateuch.
Part One
Oppositions and Alliances
Chapter One
Archenemies? Samarians and Judeans in the Early Persian Period In the Antiquitates Judaicae of Josephus, the Samarians (or Samaritans) consistently oppose every major Judean initiative taken during the early postmonarchic age.1 Whether acting as accusers, ringleaders, or adversaries, the Samarians attempt to thwart successive Judean efforts to rebuild their community. By contrast, the Samarians never function, with one or two possible exceptions, as affiliates of or as allies to the “children of the exile” ()בני הגולה. As Pummer observes, Josephus “elaborates on the biblical texts so that the identity of the adversaries of the Jews is clearly established. They [the Samaritans] are singled out as the main opponents of the returnees from the Babylonian exile.”2 That Josephus felt it helpful or necessary to clarify and augment his source tells us something about the challenges posed by that source. The works of Josephus are an important subject in their own right, not least because they have influenced the views of many modern scholars, but the focus of this essay will be on the principal source (Ezra) of the source (1 Esdras or Esdras α) employed by Josephus in his portrayal of the early postexilic period.3 1 Unfortunately, Josephus is inconsistent in his usage of the terms Σαμαρείται (Samaritans) and Σαμαρεΐς (Samarians). It might be expected that Josephus would use the former to designate the religious group and the latter more broadly to designate residents of Samaria, but he does not. He is also inconsistent in his employment of related terms, such as Σικιμΐται, “Shechemites.” See H. G. K ippenberg, Garizim und Synagoge (RVV 30; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1971); Magnar Kartveit, The Origin of the Samaritans (VTSup 128; Leiden: Brill, 2009); R. P ummer, The Samaritans in Flavius Josephus (TSAJ 129; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009). In her Josephus Flavius und die Samaritaner: eine terminologische Untersuchung zur Identitätsklärung der Samaritaner (NTOA 4; Freiburg: Universitätsverlag, 1986), R. Egger offers a dissenting view. To complicate matters, the term Samaritan (Σαμαρίτις) may designate a resident of the administrative district of the Seleucid province of Samaritis (Σαμαρίτης). See further J. Dušek, Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions from Mt. Gerizim and Samaria between Antiochus III and Antiochus IV Epiphanes (CHANE 54; Leiden: Brill, 2012), 71–72. 2 Pummer, Samaritans in Flavius Josephus, 101. 3 A version of 1 Esdras (Esdras α) seems to have been the major source employed by Josephus in his portrayal of the early Second Temple period, K.-F. Pohlmann, Studien zum dritten Esra (FRLANT 104; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1970), 74–126; J. M. Myers, I and II Esdras, (AB 42; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1974), 42; A. Schenker, “La relation d’Esdras A’ au texte massorétique d’Esdras-Néhémia,” in Tradition of the Text: Studies Offered to Dominique Barthélemy in Celebration of his 70 th Birthday (ed. G Norton and S. Pisano; OBO 109; Freiburg: Universitätsverlag, 1991), 218–49; idem, “The Relationship between Ezra-Nehemiah and First Esdras,” in Was First Esdras First? An Investigation into the Priority of First
16
Part One: Oppositions and Alliances
Are the Samarians truly the archenemies of the repatriated Judeans during this entire epoch? Does the text specify precisely who the enemies of Judah are? More generally, does conflict define the entire Persian era or only segments within this larger period? In cases in which Judeans and Samarians found themselves at loggerheads, what were the trigger points provoking strife between the two groups? I would like to begin by making some comments on the episodic nature of the past portrayed in Ezra-Nehemiah. Understanding the highly selective character of this work illumines its particular structure and themes. The heart of this paper will concentrate on the depiction of the early Persian period. Many scholars, including Noth, Rudolph, Pfeiffer, Galling, Bright, and Berman, have cast the Samarians as the chief villains in the ongoing drama of Judean reconstruction during this time, impeding and obstructing the efforts of Judean repatriates to rebuild the Jerusalem temple in the late 6th century.4 Indeed, not a few scholars have spoken of the so-called Samaritan schism as occurring in the late 6th century or sometime thereafter.5 In this schema, the Samarians were responsible for initiating or stoking anti-Judean sentiments in the Southern Levant. 6 More recent scholars, such as Williamson, Leith, Bedford, Edelman, and Esdras (ed. L. S. Fried; SBLAIL 7; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2011), 45–58; D. Böhler, Die heilige Stadt in Esdras α und Esra-Nehemia: Zwei Konzeptionen der Wiederherstellung Israels (OBO 158; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1997), 308–12; idem, I Esdras (IEKAT; Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2015), 13. In the view of L. W. Batten, a distinction should be made between the version of 1 Esdras used by Josephus and the version of 1 Esdras preserved in later tradition, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Books of Ezra and Nehemiah (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1913), 6–13. Batten contends that 1 Esdras was partially revised, at some point, toward the developing MT. 4 G. von Rad, Das Geschichtsbild des chronistischen Werkes (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1930), 31; M. Noth, Überlieferungsgeschichtliche Studien: Die sammelnden und bearbeitenden Geschichtswerke im Alten Testament (Tübingen: Max Niemeyer, 1943), 174–75; W. Rudolph, Esra-Nehemia, samt 3 Esra (HAT 20; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1949), xxv–xxx; idem, Chronikbücher (HAT 21; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1955), ix, 238; J. Bright, A History of Israel (3rd ed.; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1981), 365–67; J. Berman, “The Narratorial Voice of the Scribes of Samaria: Ezra iv 8–vi 18 Reconsidered,” VT 56 (2006): 313–26; idem, “The Narratological Purpose of Aramaic Prose in Ezra 4.8–6.18,” AS 7 (2007): 1–27. There is a long scholarly tradition of viewing Judean-Samarian relations during the Persian period in binary terms. See J. W. Rothstein, Juden und Samaritaner die grundlegende Scheidung von Judentum und Heidentum (BWAT 3; Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1908); C. C. Torrey, Ezra Studies (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1910), 154–73, 188–217; R. H. Pfeiffer, Introduction to the Old Testament (2nd ed.; New York: Harper & Brothers, 1948), 808–11; K. Galling, “The ‘Gōlā-List’ According to Ezra 2//Nehemiah 7,” JBL 70 (1951): 153–58; idem, Die Bücher der Chronik, Esra, Nehemia (ATD 12; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1954), 14–15; O. Plöger, Theocracy and Eschatology (Oxford: Blackwell, 1968), 37–38; H. H. Rowley, “The Samaritan Schism in Legend and in History,” in Israel’s Prophetic Heritage: Essays in Honor of James Muilenburg (ed. B. W. A nderson and W. Harrelson; New York: Harper, 1962), 208–22; R. Mosis, Untersuchungen zur Theologie des chronistischen Geschichtswerkes (FTS 92; Freiburg: Herder, 1973), 169–71, 200–1. 5 E.g., O. Margalith, “The Political Background of Zerubbabel’s Mission and the Samaritan Schism,” VT 41 (1991): 312–23. 6 One common supposition underlying the Samaria(t)ans as antagonists thesis has been the
Chapter One: Archenemies? Samarians and Judeans in the Early Persian Period
17
Grabbe, have reacted against such a one-sided view and I would agree.7 The literary presentation in Ezra-Nehemiah fails to support the traditional view. To be sure, there is regional resistance of various types to Judean initiatives, but the notion of perpetual, much less continuously escalating, strains between the Samarian and Judean communities does not find support within the existing literary evidence.
I. The Episodic Nature of Ezra-Nehemiah Readers familiar with other books about the people’s past found within the Hebrew scriptures, such as Joshua, Judges, Samuel-Kings, and Chronicles, might expect that Ezra-Nehemiah would follow the same literary conventions. They might understandably suppose that Ezra-Nehemiah would provide a continuous narrative about the unbroken history of the Persian period. But it does not. The work includes some continuous narratives, punctuated by lists, letters, and genealogies, but it does not pretend to offer a discussion of the entire era under view. Whereas Kings and Chronicles speak of a succession of kings reigning in Jerusalem for some four centuries and comment on each one, Ezra-Nehemiah does not address the tenures of each of the Judean governors in the Achaemenid era. Far from it, the work only mentions a few of the governors, who served in Persian times.8 Instead, it offers a highly selective narrative about what the authors deem to be special challenges faced by the Judean community within the longer era under view. To complicate matters, the authors sometimes achrononotion that Judah served as a sub-division of the province of Samaria during the first half of the Achaemenid period until Nehemiah secured Judah’s own provincial status in the mid-5th century BCE (A. Alt, Kleine Schriften zur Geschichte des Volkes Israel, vol. 2 [München: Beck, 1953], 316–45). The epigraphic and literary (Ezra 1–6; Haggai; Zechariah) evidence do not support, however such a position. See G. N. K noppers, Jews and Samaritans: The Origins and History of Their Early Relations (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013), 102–34. 7 H. G. M. Williamson, Ezra, Nehemiah (WBC 16; Waco, TX: Word, 1985), xxiii–xxiv, xxxiv–xxxvi; idem, Studies in Persian Period History (FAT 38; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004) 3–7; M. J. W. Leith, “Israel among the Nations,” in The Oxford History of the Biblical World (ed. M. D. Coogan; New York: Oxford University Press, 1998), 276–316; P. R. Bedford, Temple Restoration in Early Achaemenid Judah (JSJSup 65; Leiden: Brill, 2001), 103–6; D. V. Edelman, The Origins of the ‘Second’ Temple: Persian Imperial Policy and the Rebuilding of Jerusalem (BibleWorld; London: Equinox, 2005), 151–208; L. L. Grabbe, “The ‘Persian Documents’ in the Book of Ezra: Are They Authentic?” in Judah and the Judeans in the Persian Period (ed. O. Lipschits and M. Oeming; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2006), 531–70; L. S. Fried, Ezra: A Critical Commentary (Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2015), 190. In the view of Williamson, for instance, there is no clear evidence for tensions between Samarians and Judeans until the mid- to late-5th century, when the reforms of Ezra and Nehemiah attempt to enforce a demarcation of the members of the golah community from all others. More broadly, see my Jews and Samaritans, 135–68. 8 In one case, that of Bigvay ( ;בגויEzra 2:2//Neh 7:7), a governor is apparently named (cf. ;בגוהיAP 30.1; 32.1), but nothing is said about his governorship.
18
Part One: Oppositions and Alliances
logically or anachronistically insert incidents pertaining to later or earlier times to underscore a larger theological point.9 10 11 12 13 Episode
Source
Approximate Date
First Migration: Temple Vessels Recovered
Ezra 1:1–11
538ff. BCE
Second Migration: Temple Built Ezra 2:1–6:22
520–515 BCE
Ezra and the Torah
Ezra 7:1–10:44; Neh 7:72b–8:18
458 BCE11
Nehemiah’s First Term
Neh 1:1–7:72a; 12:27–13:312
445–433 BCE
Nehemiah’s Second Term
Neh 13:4–31
428–426 BCE?13
10
As the outline indicates, Ezra-Nehemiah presents a very discriminating series of portraits of Persian-period history. Significant segments of time (e.g., 515– 458, 457–446, 444–428 BCE) are unaddressed, except through allusions, short summaries, and indirect commentary (e.g., Ezra 4:5; 5:13–16; Neh 5:15). The transitional comment introducing the Ezra narrative, wĕʾahar hā-dĕbārîm ˙ hāʾēlleh (“and after these things”) masks the fact that some three generations (57 years) had passed since the dedication of the Second Temple by the Judean elders, the priests, Levites, and people during the reign of Darius I (Ezra 6:22). Similarly, the terse editorial introduction to Nehemiah (1:1), dibrê něhemyâ ˙ ben-hăkalyâ, “the deeds of Nehemiah, the son of Hachaliah,” does not address ˙ the break between the end of the Ezra story and the beginning of the Nehemiah story.14 It should be observed that the gaps in coverage are much lengthier 9 S. Talmon, “Ezra and Nehemiah: Books and Men,” IDBSup (1976): 317–28; H. G. M. Williamson, “The Composition of Ezra i–vi,” JTS 34 (1983): 1–30; idem, Studies, 244–70; B. Halpern, “A Historiographic Commentary on Ezra 1–6: Achronological Narrative and Dual Chronology in Israelite Historiography,” in The Hebrew Bible and Its Interpreters (ed. W. H. Propp, B. Halpern, and D. N. Freedman; BJSUCSD 1; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1990), 81–141; D. A. Glatt, Chronological Displacement in Biblical and Related Literatures (SBLDS 139; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1993), 125–31. 10 The material in Neh 7:72b–8:18 relates to the time of Ezra, but has been placed in the present literary context by an editor intent on making Ezra and Nehemiah contemporaries. 11 This calculation changes if one dates Ezra after Nehemiah to 397 BCE, understanding the Artaxerxes of Ezra’s time to be Artaxerxes II, who reigned from 404–358 BCE. T he issue need not detain us here. 12 Within the section of Neh 9:1–12:26, the corporate pact (ʾămānâ; Neh 10:1–37) evidently relates to the time of Nehemiah (Neh 10:2), whereas the other materials (the confession of Neh 9:1–37 and the lists of Neh 11:1–12:26) relate to different times. 13 The dates of 428–426 BCE are only an approximation. Nehemiah returned to the court of King Artaxerxes I in his thirty-second regnal year (433 BCE). Given the substantial problems with which Nehemiah had to contend upon his return to Jerusalem, one must allow some time to have elapsed in between his two terms as governor. How long Nehemiah may have remained as governor in his second term is unknown, but Artaxerxes I died in 423 BCE. 14 To complicate matters, the ending of the Ezra material in MT Ezra 10:44 (ויש מהם נשים )וישימו בנים, literally, “and some of them were women and they placed sons,” is abstruse (and
Chapter One: Archenemies? Samarians and Judeans in the Early Persian Period
19
chronologically than are the particular incidents covered. To summarize, EzraNehemiah comprises a series of particularly constructed incidents during the Achaemenid era, rather than a continuous historical narrative.15 The writers may have wished the portrayals of these sporadic moments to serve as highlights of the postmonarchic period, but they make no attempt to provide a comprehensive accounting of the era itself. Within this episodic reimagining of the past, the issue of Judean-Samarian relations is potentially a factor in four moments in the life of the Judean community. 16 Episode
Source
Reign
i. The Second Migration; Temple Rebuilding
Ezra 2:1–4:5; 5:1–6:22
Darius I
ii. Attempt to Rebuild Jerusalem and Its Walls16
Ezra 4:7–23
Artaxerxes I
probably corrupt). Even if one follows the smoother text of 1 Esd 9:36 or emends Ezra 10:44 (see the options listed by J. Blenkinsopp, Ezra–Nehemiah: A Commentary [OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1988], 197), the disjunction between the end of Ezra and the beginning of Nehemiah remains. For this reason and others, some favor separating Ezra from Nehemiah as two distinct literary works. See J. C. VanderKam, “Ezra-Nehemiah or Ezra and Nehemiah?” in Priests, Prophets, and Scribes: Essays on the Formation and Heritage of Second Temple Judaism in Honour of Joseph Blenkinsopp (ed. E. C. Ulrich, J. W. Wright, R. P. Carroll, and P. R. Davies; JSOTSup 149; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1992), 55–75; B. Becking, “Ezra on the Move: Trends and Perspectives on the Character and His Book,” in Perspectives in the Study of the Old Testament and Early Judaism: A Symposium in Honour of Adam S. van der Woude on the Occasion of His 70th Birthday (ed. F. Garcia Martinez and E. Noort; VTSup 73; Leiden: Brill, 1998), 154–79; idem, “Continuity and Community: The Belief System of the Book of Ezra,” in The Crisis of Israelite Religion: Transformation of Religious Tradition in Exilic and Post-Exilic Times (ed. B. Becking and C. A. Korpel; OtSt 42; Leiden: Brill, 1999), 256–75; idem, Ezra, Nehemiah, and the Construction of Early Jewish Identity (FAT 80; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011); D. K raemer, “On the Relationship of the Books of Ezra and Nehemiah,” JSOT 59 (1993): 73–92; M. Cohen, “Leave Nehemiah Alone,” in Unity and Disunity in Ezra– Nehemiah (ed. M. J. Boda and P. L. Redditt; HBM 17; Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2008), 55– 74; N. A mzallag, “The Authorship of Ezra and Nehemiah in Light of Differences in Their Ideological Background,” JBL 137 (2018): 271–97. 15 See further the essay, “Constructing the Israelite Past in Ancient Judah (II),” in my Prophets, Priests, and Promises: Essays on the Deuteronomistic History, Chronicles, and Ezra-Nehemiah (work in progress). 16 Most scholars recognize that Ezra 4:7–23 self-referentially pertains to the later time of Artaxerxes (I) and ill fits its literary context. For the alternative view that the writers of Ezra-Nehemiah and 1 Esdras worked with (or presupposed) a different succession of Persian kings, see Noth, Überlieferungsgeschichtliche Studien, 150–55; C. C. Torrey, “Medes and Persians,” JAOS 66 (1946): 1–15; A. H. W. Gunneweg, Esra (KAT 19/1; Gütersloh: Gerd Mohn, 1985), 77–94; Böhler, Heilige Stadt, 216–306; idem, I Esdras, 65–75. For a different approach, see R. Heckl, Neuanfang und Kontinuität in Jerusalem – Studien zu den hermeneutischen Strategien im Esra-Nehemia-Buch (FAT 104; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016) 92–110; idem, “The Composition of Ezra-Nehemiah as a Testimony for the Competition Between the Temples in Jerusalem and on Mt. Gerizim in the Early Years of the Seleucid Rule over Judah,” in
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iii. Nehemiah’s First Term iv. Nehemiah’s Second Term
17
Neh 1:1–7:72a; 12:27–13:3
Artaxerxes I
Neh 13:4–31
Artaxerxes I
It should be observed that three of the four potential flashpoints in Judean-Samarian relations relate to the reign of a single Achaemenid monarch (Artaxerxes I), whereas only one relates to an early time in the Persian period. Before turning direct attention to the first of these four moments of local and regional Judean engagements, it will be useful to comment briefly on the other periods of non-engagements. By these, I mean particular episodes depicted in Ezra-Nehemiah that do not involve any Judean-Samarian engagements or confrontations. These comprise the time of the first return and settlement under the enigmatic governor Sheshbazzar (Ezra 1:1–11; 5:13–16) during the reign of Cyrus the Great, and the time of Ezra’s reforms (Ezra 7:1–10:44; Neh 7:72b–8:18) during the reign of Artaxerxes.18 The Samarians and their leaders are simply not an issue during the tenure of the early Judean governor Sheshbazzar (Ezra 1:1–11; 5:13–16).19 In fact, no external opposition is mentioned in connection with the first migration from the east (ca. 538 BCE) and the activities of Sheshbazzar.20 The issue of Judean-Samarian relations is curiously also absent in the major section devoted to Ezra’s reforms. Indeed, neither Samaria nor the Samarians are ever mentioned in the Ezra account. To be sure, some commentators lump Ezra and Nehemiah together as waging essentially the same campaign against intermarriage. In such a construction, the Samarians are included in the larger picture, because one of Nehemiah’s reforms during his second term as governor is to banish one of the sons of Joiada ben Eliashib the high priest, because he had married the daughter of the Samarian governor Sanballat (Neh 13:28). But the list of foreign peoples in Ezra with whom the exiles intermarried does not in17
The Bible, Qumran, and the Samaritans (ed. M. Kartveit and G. N. K noppers; SJ 104; StSam 10; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2018), 115–32. 17 On the force of the vague temporal phrase ( )ולפני מזהin Neh 13:4, see the diverse pro posals of Rudolph, Esra-Nehemia, 203–4; S. Mowinckel, Studien zu dem Buche Ezra-Nehemia, 3: Die Esrageschichte und das Gesetz Moses (Skrifter utg. av det Norske videnskapsakademi i Oslo. II. Hist.-filos. klasse. Ny serie, 7; Oslo: Universitetsforlaget, 1965), 35–37; U. Kellerman, Nehemia: Quellen, Überlieferung und Geschichte (BZAW 102; Berlin: Töpelmann, 1967), 48–51; Williamson, Ezra, Nehemiah, 380–84; Blenkinsopp, Ezra-Nehemiah, 352–53; K.-D. Schunck, Nehemia (BKAT 23/2; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 2009), 386–87. 18 Presumably Artaxerxes I, but possibly Artaxerxes II (see above). 19 For the case that this figure is distinct from Zerubbabel, who follows later, see J. C. VanderKam, From Joshua to Caiaphas: High Priests after the Exile (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2004), 5–10. 20 This includes the important retrospective offered by the Judean elders about Sheshbazzar’s tenure and its aftermath in their reply to the inquiry of Tattenai, Shethar-bozenai, and their colleagues (Ezra 5:13–16). The declarations made by the elders do not mention any external opposition in the time of Sheshbazzar.
Chapter One: Archenemies? Samarians and Judeans in the Early Persian Period
21
clude Samarians.21 Rather, the list (Ezra 9:1) mentions some of the peoples on the typical pentateuchal roster of autochthonous nations – the Canaanites, Hittites, Perizzites, and Jebusites – as well as four other ethnic groups not included in that register – the Ammonites, Moabites, Egyptians, and Edomites.22 The officials reporting to Ezra (9:1–2, 12) thus expand the standard pentateuchal catalog of aboriginal peoples, by drawing upon the select ethnographic repertoires found in Deut 7:1–4 and Deut 23:4–9.23 The latter text, mentioning the Ammonites, Moabites, Egyptians, and Edomites in the context of admission or non-admission into the assembly of Yhwh ()קהל יהוה, whether on a temporary or permanent basis, is reinterpreted to forbid exogamy with all of these peoples. One could argue that the expanded list in Ezra is representative of yet a larger whole that included Samarians among its many constituent ethnic parts. Note the generalized references to “foreign women” (nāšîm nokrîyôt) from “the peoples of the land” in both Ezra’s prayer and in the later narrative about banishing and dispossessing the wives and their children (Ezra 9:11; 10:2, 11, 17, 18, 44).24 But such an assertion assumes what it needs to prove, namely that Samarian-Judean marriages were occurring and were deemed to be cases of intermarriage in the Ezra account. It is, moreover, striking that the expanded roster of Ezra 9:1 includes some nearby peoples to the Judeans in the early Second Temple period – Ammonites, Moabites, Egyptians, and Edomites – but does not mention the residents of Judah’s northern neighbor – Samaria.25 21 It is, therefore, puzzling why some view the campaign against mixed marriages in Ezra 9–10 as anti-Samaritan polemic. See, e.g., H. C. M. Vogt, Studie zur nachexilische Gemeinde in Esra-Nehemia (Werl: Dietrich Coelde-Verlag, 1966), 158. 22 Reading האדמיwith 1 Esd 8:66 (lectio difficilior); MT ( )האמריand LXX Ezra 9:1 (Esdras β) read the expected Amorites. The difference between the MT and 1 Esdras may be explained by metathesis and a rêš/dālet confusion. 23 M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon, 1985), 116. The writer may also be familiar with expansions of the pentateuchal roster found within select passages in the Deuteronomistic historical work, G. N. K noppers, “Sex, Religion, and Politics: The Deuteronomist on Intermarriage,” HAR 14 (1994): 121–41. Yet, none of those expansions (e.g., Josh 23:11–13; Judg 3:5–6; 1 Kgs 11:1–4) mentions northern Israelites or Samarians as belonging to the category of the other. 24 Josephus (Ant. 11.140–153) simply speaks of “foreign wives” without ever attempting to define their ethnic identities. Such a generalization may solve a perceived problem in his principal source (1 Esdras) of why certain neighboring peoples are mentioned, but not others. 25 Even if one accepts the importance of the more general designation of “foreign women” as a generalization of the older polemic against intermarriage with the autochthonous nations, it does not necessarily follow that Samarian women were among those involved in mixed marriages. The women had to come from somewhere and it is illogical to suppose, given the specific ethnic identifiers in Ezra 9:1–2, 12 that they somehow came from everywhere. In other words, one could accept that the label nāšîm nokrîyôt generalizes the pentateuchal prohibition against intermarriage with the autochthonous nations to apply to all women who did not belong to the bĕnê hā-gôlâ, yet such an inference would not entail that the specific instances of intermarriage mentioned in Ezra 9–10 included, therefore, Samarian women. Mention should also be made of another theory, seeking to explain the campaign against mixed marriage in Ezra 9–10. It has been proposed that the so-called “strange women” (nāšîm
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The same point may be seen from another angle. If one compares the register of autochthonous peoples in Ezra with that found in Judith (5:16), one sees that the author of the latter work added the Shechemite(s) (τὸν Συχεμ) as an ethnicon to the traditional pentateuchal register (cf. Jdt 9:2–4).26 Clearly, the authors of the Ezra narrative could have included a similar expansion, if they had wished to do so. Given how prominent the struggle against Sanballat is in the Nehemiah narratives, the contrast between the Ezra and Nehemiah materials (or “memoirs”) may be significant.27 We have been discussing two portions of Ezra-Nehemiah that do not mention any Samarian-Judean antagonism. Paying close attention to the literary evidence demonstrates that Samarian-Judean tensions do not pervade the entire Persian era. It will now be useful to focus on the cases in which such divisions may be an issue in the early Persian period.
II. Zerubbabel, Jeshua, and Their Opponents During the governorship of Zerubbabel, the repatriated Judeans encounter outside resistance on three occasions. Each of these engagements has to do with nokrîyôt) actually stemmed from within the Judean community. On this possibility, see Becking, “Ezra on the Move,” 154–79; idem, “Continuity and Community,” 256–75; idem, Ezra, Nehemiah; D. Janzen, Witch-hunts, Purity and Social Boundaries: The Expulsion of the Foreign Women in Ezra 9–10 (JSOTSup 350; London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002). In this interpretation, the label nāšîm nokrîyôt stigmatized certain Judean women, who were deemed to be “strange.” 26 That the designation “Shechemite” is code for Samarians or directly relates to the interpretation of Genesis 34 is, however, debated. See, e.g., R. P ummer, “Antisamaritanische Polemik in jüdischer Schriften aus der intertestamentlichen Zeit,” BZ 26 (1982): 224–42; J. M. Myers, Judith (AB 40; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1985), 160; D. L. Gera, Judith (CEJL; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2014), 213. 27 This may be especially relevant if, as recent scholarship advocates, both the Ezra mater ials and the Nehemiah memoir underwent a good deal of expansion and editing over a lengthy period of time. On this, see T. Reinmuth, Der Bericht Nehemias: zur literarischen Eigenart, traditionsgeschichtlichen Prägung und innerbiblischen Rezeption des Ich-Berichts Nehemias (OBO 183; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2002); J. Pakkala, Ezra the Scribe: The Development of Ezra 7–10 and Nehemia 8 (BZAW 347; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2004); idem, “The Exile and the Exiles in the Ezra Tradition,” in The Concept of Exile in Ancient Israel and its Historical Contexts (ed. E. Ben Zvi and C. Levin; BZAW 404; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2010), 61– 89; J. L. Wright, Rebuilding Identity: The Nehemiah Memoir and Its Earliest Readers (BZAW 348; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2004); S. Burt, The Courtier and the Governor: Transformation of Genre in the Nehemiah Memoir (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2014); L. Schulte, “My Shepherd though You do not Know Me”: The Persian Propaganda Model in the Nehemiah Memoir (CBET 78; Leuven: Peeters, 2016). Considering the extensive growth and redaction in both corpora and the limited integration of the two by the inclusion of the reading of the Torah by Ezra (Neh 7:72b–8:18) in the middle of the Nehemiah narrative, one is all the more struck by the fact that the opposition between Judah and Samaria, which features both in Nehemiah’s wall-building narrative and in the account of his second term (Neh 13:28), has no counterpart in Ezra 7–10.
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23
efforts to rebuild Jerusalem’s basic cultic infrastructure. The first occurs, when Jeshua and his kin, accompanied by Zerubbabel, and his kin, rebuild the Jerusalem altar and present sacrifices upon it (Ezra 3:1–13). The second and third incidents occur, when Zerubabbel, Jeshua, and the Judean elders attempt to rebuild the temple (Ezra 4:1–5, 24; 5:1–6:22). Because the other incident related in Ezra 1–6 achronologically relates to the later time of King Artaxerxes (Ezra 4:7–23), this passage will not be discussed in the present context.28
i. The Establishment of the Altar (Ezra 3:1–13) The first case of local opposition, to the reconstruction efforts of the repatriates is textually and thematically located in the beginning of the second wave of the return under the leadership of the Davidic governor Zerubbabel and the high priest Jeshua (ca. 520 BCE). The first hint of trouble occurs, when “the entire people assembled as one” in Jerusalem in the seventh month to make preparations for the observance of the feast of Sukkôt (Booths) and Jeshua, Zerubbabel, and their kin, began building the temple altar to present burnt offerings (Ezra 3:1–2).29 The preparations for altar construction seem to be tied initially to a larger campaign to rebuild the temple, given that “the sanctuary of Yhwh” (hêkal Yhwh) had not yet been founded (Ezra 3:6), but more was in view. “They established the altar on its site, because fear had come upon them (kî bĕʾêmâ ʿălêhem) on account of the peoples of the lands” (mēʿammê hāʾărāsôt; Ezra 3:3).30 The ˙ presentation of burnt offerings each morning and evening was thus tied to a desire for securing divine protection from the possible machinations of surrounding peoples. Given the chronology implied in the account (Ezra 3:1, 8), the 28 The claim in Ezra 4:6 that the opponents of Judah and Jerusalem sent a disputation at the beginning of the reign of Ahasuerus (Xerxes), not found in the parallel of 1 Esd 2:15, is likely a later addition, D. N. Fulton and G. N. K noppers, “Lower Criticism and Higher Criticism: The Case of 1 Esdras,” in Was 1 Esdras First? An Investigation into the Priority of First Esdras (ed. L. S. Fried; SBLAIL 7; Atlanta: SBL Press, 2011), 18–26; Fried, Ezra, 202–3. 29 I am understanding the ambiguous “seventh month” as relating to Zerubbabel, Jeshua, and their fellow returnees, rather than to the initial return of 538 BCE under Sheshbazzar. On the dual chronology of Ezra 1–6 (imperial regnal year over against years following the return), see Halpern, “Historiographic Commentary,” 108–11 and Glatt, Chronological Displacement, 167–74. It may well be, as Halpern argues, that the editor(s) of Ezra 1–6 obfuscates the delay in the completion of the temple project from the time of Cyrus to that of Darius by blending the imperial chronology with the local chronology in his larger presentation. 30 By contrast, 1 Esd 5:49 mentions that there were some “from the other peoples of the land,” who joined Jeshua and Zerubbabel, when they prepared the altar, Myers, I and II Esdras, 69–70; Z. Talshir, 1 Esdras: A Text Critical Commentary (SBLSCS 50; Atlanta: SBL Press, 2001), 296–99; Böhler, I Esdras, 120–25. There is no parallel to this important note in the Hebrew text. In this case, Josephus (Ant. 11.75–76) is closer to Ezra, stating that the erection of the altar by Jeshua and Zerubbabel generated a negative reaction from the surrounding peoples, πάντων αὐτοῖς ἀπεχθανομένων, “all of whom were hateful to them.”
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émigrés of the second wave were worried about encountering resistance before their first year back in the land had ended. The precise identity of “the peoples of the lands” is, however, not revealed to the reader.31 The general expression עמ)י( הארץis ethnically and geographically unspecific. Paradoxically, this section of Ezra-Nehemiah presents a very clear picture of protagonists, but not of their antagonists.32 In their binary presentation of human relations, the editors of Ezra-Nehemiah focus on the people of Judah, specifically the bĕnê hā-gôlâ (“the children of the exile”) from the eastern Diaspora (chiefly Babylon).33 Those who have returned from the Babylonian captivity are presented as “Israel.”34 When such repatriates congregate in a formal capacity, they appear as the “assembly of the exile” (qĕhāl hā-gôlâ; Ezra 10:8, 12–16) or as the “assembly of God” (qĕhāl hāʾĕlōhîm; Neh 13:1).35 Ezra-Nehemiah occasionally refers to Judah and Benjamin (Ezra 1:5; 4:1; 10:9; Neh 11:4, 25, 35), but never to any of the northern tribes. Unlike Chronicles and most prophetic writings, there are no hopes expressed for the reconstitution or revivification of a larger reunited Israel composed of twelve or more tribes.36 31 The anonymity inherent in the expression is underscored by J. T. T hames, “A New Discussion of the Meaning of the Phrase ʿam–hāʾāres in the Hebrew Bible,” JBL 130 (2011): 109– ˙ 25. I do not agree, however, with all of his conclusions. L. S. Fried contends for a different view, namely that the “( עמ הארץpeople of the land”) are Persian-appointed governors and satrapal officials, whereas the “( עמי הארץpeoples of the lands”) are neighboring population groups, “The ʿam haʾares in Ezra 4:4 and Persian Administration,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Persian Period (ed.˙ M. Oeming and O. Lipschits; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2006), 123–45; eadem, Ezra, 192–93). But it is unclear, especially given the textual variants, whether such a fixed and fast distinction consistently obtains. In the view of B. Hensel, the nomenclature is code for other postexilic Yahwisms, most notably Samarian Yahwism, “Ethnic Fiction and Identity-Formation: A New Explanation for the Background of the Question of Intermarriage in Ezra-Nehemiah,” in The Bible, Qumran, and the Samaritans (ed. M. Kartveit and G. N. K noppers; SJ 104; StSam 10; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2018), 133–48. 32 K. W. S outhwood discusses the relevant issues of self-ascriptive identity and the negative categorization of the other, Ethnicity and the Mixed Marriage Crisis in Ezra 9–10: An Anthropological Approach (OTM; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012). See also D. Laird, Negotiating Power in Ezra-Nehemiah (SBLAIL 26; Atlanta: SBL Press, 2016), 303–44. The literature on intermarriage in Ezra-Nehemiah has become voluminous. See the collection of essays edited by Christian Frevel and the further references listed there, Mixed Marriages: Intermarriage and Group Identity in the Second Temple Period (LHBOTS 547; London: T. & T. Clark International, 2011). 33 Ezra 4:1; 6:19–20; 8:35; 10:7, 16 (cf. běnê gālûtâʾ in Ezra 6:16). Similarly, hāʿōlîm miššěbî hā-gôlâ, “the ones who came up from the captivity of the exile” (Ezra 2:1//Neh 7:6), or more succinctly hā-gôlâ, “the exile(s)” (Ezra 1:11; 9:4; 10:6; Neh 7:6). 34 On the association of the “children of the exile” with Israel, see Ezra 2:1–2; 3:1; 4:3; 6:21; 7:28; 8:25, 35; 9:1, 4; 10:1, 2, 6, 8, 10; Neh 1:6–9; 8:1; 9:1–2; 10:34. In some instances, the term Israel is understood in a more restricted sense as referring to laity, as opposed to priests and Levites (e.g., Ezra 2:2, 70 [//Neh 7:7, 73]; 6:16; 7:7, 10, 13; 8:29; 9:5; 10:5, 25; Neh 2:10). 35 The text quotes Deut 23:2–3, but the qĕhāl Yhwh there evidently refers to a more restrictive body than the general qĕhāl yiśrāʾēl (Deut 5:22; 31:30; cf. 33:4; Ezra 2:64; 10:1). Hence, Neh 13:1 reinterprets the older lemma, broadening its application. 36 Occasionally, the historic notion of a larger Israel comes into view (Ezra 6:17; 8:24, 35).
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25
The focus of the work is upon the struggles and achievements of the returned exiles in rebuilding the material and religious infrastructure of Jerusalem. In Ezra 1–6 and elsewhere in heavily-edited sections of Ezra-Nehemiah, the עמ)י( הארץappear as opponents of the repatriated Judeans from Babylon, but their ethnic composition is left undefined. If the enemy is, in this case, what Jonathan Smith calls the “proximate other,” how proximate is proximate?37 Moreover, in speaking of the “peoples of the land,” what is the land? Are the peoples extraneous to the province of Yehud, comprising Yehud’s local neighbors (the Edomites, Moabites, Ammonites, Ashdodites, Samarians, etc.) and their more distant neighbors (within the region of Transeuphratene)? Or do some opponents reside within the land of Yehud itself? Does the narration presuppose that the territory of Yehud is at least partially inhabited by foreign settlers, who migrated to or were imported into the land at some point in the past?38 Or should one think of those Judeans who were not displaced by the 37 J. Z. Smith, “What a Difference a Difference Makes,” in “To See Ourselves as Others See Us” (ed. J. Neusner and E. S. Frerichs; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1985), 3–48; M. G. Brett, “National Identity as Commentary and as Metacommentary,” in Historiography and Identity (Re)formulation in Second Temple Historiographical Literature (ed. L. C. Jonker; LHBOTS 534; New York: T. & T. Clark International, 2010), 29–40; J. W. Cataldo, “Embracing Nehemiah: Restoration as a Performance of Social Cohesion,” Reflections 16–17 (2014–2015): 57– 71. 38 Many scholars suppose that in the narrative world of Ezra 1–6 the exiles come back to an empty land, but the text never makes such an all-encompassing claim. There are categorical statements in Kings (2 Kgs 24:15–16, 20; 25:11–12, 21) and in Chronicles about masses of surviving Judahites being forcibly removed from their land. The writer of 2 Chr 36:21 declares, for instance, that the remnant’s compulsory departure from their ancestral territory enables the land to observe its sabbaths. In Kings, Judeans also escape their ancestral land to seek refuge in Egypt (2 Kgs 25:22–26). Nevertheless, it would be methodologically mistaken to assimilate the views found in Ezra-Nehemiah with those found in Kings and Chronicles, especially if scholars hold, as most now do, to the separate authorship of Chronicles and Ezra-Nehemiah, Knoppers, I Chronicles 1–9 (AB 12; New York: Doubleday/New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004), 72–89. In any case, blanket declarations about an empty land in Ezra 1–6 are lacking. Moreover, the assertions made by the “adversaries” of Judah and Benjamin (Ezra 4:1–3) suggest otherwise. If, as seems likely, many of the toponyms in the long list of Ezra 2:1–70//Neh 7:6–72 refer to sites in which expatriates settled, rather than to sites from which their ancestors stemmed, another problem for the empty land hypothesis arises. The text does not aver that these places were all vacant prior to the arrival of the repatriated expatriates. That the writers are remarkably vague in their ascriptions of the other, referring to the “people of the land” or “peoples of the land(s),” should suggest caution in jumping to the conclusion that these ill-defined population groups were all residing in territories extraneous to Yehud. Similar things may be said of the opposite theory to the empty land hypothesis, namely that the “people(s) of the land” are to be directly equated with those Judeans left in the land of Judah during the Neo-Babylonian period. This calculation, like the empty land hypothesis, is too simplistic to do justice to all of the evidence. For helpful cautions, see J. Kessler, “The Diaspora in Zechariah 1–8 and Ezra–Nehemiah: The Role of History, Social Location, and Tradition in the Formulation of Identity,” in Community Identity in Judean Historiography: Biblical and Comparative Perspectives (ed. G. N. K noppers and K. A. R istau; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2009), 119–45; E. Ben Zvi, “Reconstructing the Intellectual Discourse of Ancient Yehud,” SR 39 (2010): 7–23; idem, “Total Exile, Empty Land and the
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Babylonian deportations? The work either excludes those Judeans left in the land in the wake of the Babylonian invasions (598–597 BCE; 586 BCE) and the migrations to Egypt (ca. 582 BCE) or lumps them together with the “people(s) of the land.” Equating the “children of the exile” with Israel, the editors do not directly address the fate of the Judeans who survived the Neo-Babylonian occupation (586–538 BCE). In any event, while the Samarians may be included in the conglomerate עמ)י( הארץmentioned in Ezra, they are not singled out, at least, in this case.39
ii. Rebuilding the Temple, Part 1 (Ezra 4:1–5) Antagonism from locals is also a theme in the sanctuary construction account. In their second year, Zerubbabel, Jeshua, and their kin led the community in beginning the process of laying the foundation of the sanctuary (Ezra 3:10–11). A curious incident soon follows, when a group of people wishing to help rebuild the temple show up to offer their assistance to the Judean leaders (Ezra 4:1–3). Exactly who comprised this group is not clearly specified. The narrator calls them the sārê yĕhûdâ ûbinyāmîn (“adversaries of Judah and Benjamin;” Ezra ˙ 4:1). The members of this vaguely-defined group aver that they worship the same God as Zerubbabel, Jeshua, and the heads of the ancestral houses do and claim descent from the emigrants dispatched to the land by Esarhaddon the king of Assyria (r. 680–669 BCE) to the land centuries earlier (Ezra 4:2).40 The text of Ezra acknowledges, therefore, that there were other Yahwists in the land in addition to the repatriated exiles.41 But precisely where did the ancestors of these “adversaries” settle? The text speaks of Esarhaddon bringing their ancesGeneral Intellectual Discourse in Yehud,” in The Concept of Exile in Ancient Israel (ed. E. Ben Zvi and C. Levin; BZAW 404; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2010), 155–68. An allusion to the Judean remainees might appear in the expression, “the poorest of the land,” in conjunction with Nehemiah’s social reforms (Neh 5:1, 17; Blenkinsopp, Ezra-Nehemiah, 66). Yet, the difficulty in determining precisely what such references imply is not only that they are inherently vague, but also that the first-person Nehemiah materials commonly speak of “Judeans,” rather than of the “children of the exile.” See further Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 140–68. 39 The only occasion in Ezra-Nehemiah in which the “people(s) of the land(s)” are expli citly identified is the list of Ezra 9:1, which mentions some nations familiar from the stereotypical pentateuchal roster of autochthonous nations, as well as four other ethnic groups. See further section I above. 40 Reading in Ezra 4:2 lô with the qere, 1 Esd 5:66 (καὶ αὐτῷ), and 2 Esd 4:2 (καὶ αὐτῷ). The ketiv has lōʾ. 41 The text does not say more about the character of their Yahwistic practices and beliefs, e.g., whether the people worshiped other deities in addition to Yhwh. The verbs used דרש, “seek,” and זבח, “sacrifice” (Ezra 4:2) differ from the verb, ירא, “revere” used in reference to the worship of the Neo-Assyrian sponsored immigrants in 2 Kgs 17:24–33. There is no mention of these people making ( )עשהtheir own gods, as in 2 Kgs 17:29–31. See also B. Hensel, Juda und Samaria: Zum Verhältnis zweier nach-exilischer Jahwismen (FAT 110; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016) 35–90.
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tors “here” (pōh; Ezra 4:2).42 Does the use of the deictic adverb of location mean that they migrated to Judah, to Samaria, or to the larger region of the southern Levant? There is a theory dating to antiquity (Josephus, Ant. 11.21–30) that these “adversaries” were principally Samarian in character.43 The influential hypothesis draws critical links among the peoples imported into the land under the Assyrian king (2 Kgs 17:24–33), probably Sargon II (r. 722–705 BCE), in the late-8th century BCE, the people imported into the land under Esarhaddon in the 7th century, and the “adversaries of Judah and Benjamin,” who professed co-religiosity with Zerubbabel, Jeshua, and the Judean ancestral heads, in the late-6th century. Just as the Assyrian king, most likely Sargon II, imported a variety of foreign settlers into the area of Samaria, following the defeat of the northern kingdom and the forced dislocation of some of its inhabitants (2 Kg 17:6–33), so there must have been a second round of foreign settlers dispatched to the province of Samaria in the reign of Esarhaddon (680–669 BCE).44 Over the course of time, these foreign settlers, like their earlier counterparts, came to worship the native deity (2 Kgs 17:24–33).45 Hence, their descendants could proclaim to the newly arrived repatriates that they served the same god that they did. The hypothesized direct connection between the waves of foreign settlers during the 8th and 7th centuries and the Samarians in the 6th century is reproduced in some modern commentaries and handbooks almost as if it were a mat42 The use of the deictic adverb of location, pōh, “here, at this place” (Gen 19:12; 22:5; 40:15; 1 Kgs 2:30; 2 Kgs 22:16; Job 38:11; cf. “to here;” Deut 5:31; 1 Sam 16:11; 2 Sam 20:4; 2 Kgs 2:2, 4, 6; HALOT 916a–b) points to a place relative to the speaking, ‘here’ as opposed to ‘there’ (B. K. Waltke and M. O’Connor, An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax [Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1990], § 39.3.1g). In other words, the use of pōh indicates this land, that is, the land shared by the parties in view, rather than other lands. 43 Earlier, Josephus has Cyrus saddle Samaria with the obligation of furnishing the returnees with huge quantities of cattle, wine, oil, and wheat (Ant. 11.16). By contrast, the accounts in Ezra (6:8–9 [relating to the time of Darius]) and 1 Esdras (6:28–30 [also relating to the time of Darius]) speak more generally of tribute from Beyond the River (Coele-Syria and Phoenicia in 1 Esdras). Josephus “went far beyond his sources, by systematizing under the guise of Samaritan opposition various cases of local opposition since the time of Cyrus,” É. Nodet, A Search for the Origins of Judaism: From Joshua to the Mishnah (JSOTSup 248; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), 129. 44 Josephus recognizes the problem (Ant 11.19), by speaking of the “neighboring nations, especially the Cutheans, whom Shalmaneser (V), king of Assyria, brought out of Persia and Media, and had settled in Samaria, when he carried the people of Israel into captivity.” Josephus thus alludes to narrative of 2 Kgs 17:24–33 to frame his presentation of the early postexilic period as presented in Ezra 4:1–5 and 1 Esd 5:63–70. See further Josephus, Ant. 9.279, 288; 10.183–185; 11.76, Egger, Josephus Flavius, 286; Pummer, Samaritans in Flavius Josephus, 76–82. 45 Nevertheless, no such dislocation is attested within the royal inscriptions of Esarhaddon. B. Oded provides a useful survey of the deportations attested in Assyrian sources, Mass Deportations and Deportees in the Neo-Assyrian Empire (Wiesbaden: Ludwig Reichert, 1979).
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ter of established fact.46 Assuming such an interpretation, Torrey comments on the author’s ingenuity in having the Samaritans “produce documentary evidence of their own ‘heathen’ origin.”47 Indeed, in some older treatments, the so-called schism between the Jews and the Samaritans was traced to this point in the early Second Commonwealth.48 Yet, the hypothesis is simplistic and reductive.49 Because the view has been so popular in both antiquity and in modern times, its precarious evidentiary basis deserves some examination. It is, of course, quite possible that a second dispatch of imported migrants reached some location(s) in the southern Levant during the reign of Esarhaddon, although such a forced migration is unattested in biblical and extra-biblical sources.50 If such a second deportation into the former northern kingdom occurred in the early-7th century BCE, one would think that the Deuteronomistic editors, ever eager to denounce the failings of northern Israel, would have mentioned the event in their coverage of the aftermath of the northern kingdom’s fall (2 Kgs 17:24–41).51 Moreover, the other biblical sources for the early postexilic period, such as the prophetic books of Haggai and Zechariah, mention neither any such foreign migration into the land nor any external resistance to the rebuilding efforts.52 In Haggai and Zechariah in46 E.g., E. Meyer, Die Entstehung des Judentums: Eine historische Untersuchung (Halle: Niemeyer, 1896), 40–41; Torrey, Ezra Studies, 326; G. Hölscher, “Die Bücher Esra und Nehemia,” in Die Heilige Schrift des Alten Testaments: 2. Hosea bis Chronik (ed. E. Kautzsch; HSAT; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1923), 491; Rudolph, Esra-Nehemia, 33–35; R. H. Pfeiffer, Religion in the Old Testament (2nd ed.; New York: Harper & Brothers, 1961), 199–202; G. Fohrer, History of Israelite Religion (Nashville: Abingdon, 1972), 330–33; Bright, History of Israel, 367–71; Berman, “Narratorial Voice,” 1–27; idem, “Narratological Purpose,” 313– 26. Recognizing that speaking of anti-Samaritan polemic is anachronistic, Gunneweg (Esra, 79–82) speaks of anti-Samarian rhetoric. 47 Torrey, Ezra Studies, 169. For Torrey, the whole story and most of Ezra-Nehemiah, for that matter, is a fictitious authorial invention. 48 E.g., J. W. Rothstein, Juden und Samaritaner die grundlegende Scheidung von Judentum und Heidentum: Eine kritische Studie zum Buche Haggai und zur jüdischen Geschichte im ersten nachexilischen Jahrhundert (BWAT 3; Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs, 1908). 49 See already F. M. Cross, “Aspects of Samaritan and Jewish History in Late Persian and Hellenistic Times,” HTR 59 (1966): 201–11. R. J. Coggins, contends, in fact, that the self-identification of this group as connected to the time of Esarhaddon effectively precludes their being called Samaritans: “if this section is intended to be anti-Samaritan, it is remarkably allusive,” Samaritans and Jews: The Origins of Samaritanism Reconsidered (Atlanta: John Knox, 1975), 66. Coggins plausibly argues that author subsumes various opposition groups under a more general heading. On the issue in extra-biblical sources, see B. Hensel, “Von ‘Israeliten’ zu ‘Ausländern’: Zur Entwicklung anti-samaritanischer Polemik ab der hasmonäischen Zeit,” ZAW 126 (2014): 475–93; idem, Juda und Samaria, 257–81. 50 Reference has occasionally been made to the gloss in Isa 7:8b prophesying the dissolution of Ephraim in 65 years, following the time of Ahaz (r. 748–728 BCE), but such a connection is tenuous at best. The text speaks of the breakup of Ephraim, not of an influx of new state-sponsored refugees. 51 See further Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 45–70. 52 H. G. M. Williamson, “The Concept of Israel in Transition,” in The World of Ancient
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ternal issues within the Judean community, and not external issues, are said to cause any delays in the temple reconstruction.53 But what precisely is the import of the claim we find in Ezra? In what follows, I shall concentrate on the internal testimony of Ezra 1–6 to try to make sense of the declarations made therein without making larger claims about the earlier history of the southern Levant. Obviously, one needs to keep in mind what is known about that history, but this is not the place to revisit in detail the development of Neo-Assyrian imperial policy in the west. To begin with, one should observe that the text does not claim that the émigrés landed in Samaria. It is quite possible, employing the analogy of the story in 2 K ings 17, that the colonists and their descendants eventually came to worship the native deity(s) of the land, but that hardly settles the question of exactly where they resided. The most natural interpretation of the claim that Esarhaddon brought the group “here” (pōh) is that the group settled somewhere in what was the preexilic kingdom of Judah (Ezra 4:2) or within the larger area of which Judah was a part.54 Israel (ed. R. E. Clements; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 141–60; Bedford, Temple Restoration, 237–64; Edelman, Origins of the ‘Second’ Temple, 172; S. Japhet, “Periodization between History and Ideology II: Chronology and Ideology in Ezra–Nehemiah,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Persian Period (ed. O. Lipschits and M. Oeming; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2006), 491–508; J. Kessler, “Diaspora and Homeland in the Early Achaemenid Yehud: Community, Geography, and Demography in Zechariah 1–8,” in Approaching Yehud: New Approaches to the Study of the Persian Period (ed. J. L. Berquist; SemeiaSt 50; Atlanta: SBL Press, 2007), 137–66; idem, “Diaspora in Zechariah,” 119–45. 53 C. L. Meyers and E. M. Meyers, Haggai, Zechariah 1–8 (AB 25B; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1988), xxxvii–xliv; T. Willi, Juda – Jehud – Israel: Studien zum Selbstverständnis des Judentums in persischer Zeit (FAT 12; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1995); Bedford, Temple Restoration, 237–70; J. Kessler, The Book of Haggai: Prophecy and Society in Early Persian Yehud (VTSup 91; Leiden: Brill, 2002); idem, “Building the Second Temple: Questions of Time, Text, and History in Haggai 1.1–15,” JSOT 27 (2002): 243–56; Japhet, “Periodization,” 432–49. 54 Further precision is impossible, given the indeterminate nature of the phrase. Distinguishing between the preexilic and postexilic states of Judah is relevant, because the territory of Yehud was considerably reduced in comparison with the size of the 7th-century Judahite kingdom. The contrasts between the idealized Judahite (Josh 15:1–12, 20–63) and Benjaminite (Josh 18:11–28) tribal settlements in Joshua and the approximate boundaries of Yehud in the Persian and early Hellenistic period are also relevant. See, e.g., O. Lipschits, The Fall and Rise of Jerusalem: Judah under Babylonian Rule (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005). Inasmuch as Judeans might be aware of earlier monarchical conditions and earlier textual representations of settlements, such memories would underscore the difference between what many Judeans felt as their ancestral patrimony and what they actually possessed in their own time. Even if one were to assume, for the sake of argument, that Judeans were the only population group in Yehud (a dubious assumption), that would hardly settle the issue of land claims, because at least some Judeans may have believed that other population groups were residing within territories that traditionally had belonged to them, but that now lay outside Yehud’s borders (e.g., Ps 137:7; Obad 8–15). To complicate matters further, the lists of Ezra-Nehemiah (Ezra 2:1–70//Neh 7:6–72; Neh 3:1–32; 11:25–36) proclaim that some Judeans resided (or encamped) outside of (what are normally taken as) Yehud’s borders, O. Lipschits, “The History of the Benjamin Region under Babylonian Rule,” TA 26 (1999): 155–90; Knop-
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The adversaries of the exiles approached (wayyiggĕšû) Zerubbabel and the ancestral heads and spoke to them, where the repatriates were building the house of Yhwh, that is, in Jerusalem (Ezra 4:1–2). Hence, the claim that their ancestors were brought “here” most logically relates to Yehud (or to the broader region of which Yehud was a part). Further specification of the “adversaries” whom Zerubbabel and Jeshua oppose may be gained by paying close attention to the protagonists in the story, assuming that the “other” is defined, in no small measure by the definition of the “self.” The unambiguous response by Zerubbabel, Jeshua, and the ancestral heads to the offer confirms that the Judean exiles and not non-exiled Judeans or a more general population group were in charge of the project: “It is not your responsibility (lōʾ-lākem), but ours (wālānû) to build a house for our God, because we alone (kî ʾănahnû yahad) must build it for Yhwh the God of Israel, as ˙ ˙ Cyrus king of Persia commanded us” (siwwānû; Ezra 4:3).55 The specific refer˙ ence to an imperial rescript elucidates the content and tone of the reply. The presentation of Cyrus’s edict, as depicted at the very beginning of the work, is explicitly connected to the fulfillment of the prophecies made by Jeremiah to the exiles (Ezra 1:1): “Whoever is among you from all his people, may his God be with him and let him go up to Jerusalem, which is in Judah, and let him build the house of Yhwh the God of Israel; he is the God who is in Jerusalem” (Ezra 1:3).56 The very formulation of this decree presupposes that its recipients are residing outside of their native land. That the expatriates from Judah and Benjamin, and not Yahwists generally, are the target audience for this summons is confirmed in the response to Cyrus’s invitation: “And the ancestral heads of Judah and Benjamin, the priests, and the Levites, whomever the spirit of God aroused, arose to go up to build the house of Yhwh, which is in Jerusalem” (Ezra 1:5). The content of Cyrus’s decree, which opens the book, illumines the categorically negative response of Zerubbabel, Jeshua, and the ancestral heads to the offer of outside assistance in rebuilding the Jerusalem temple. The issue was not whether the descendants of foreign peoples in the land worshiped Yhwh, but pers, I Chronicles 1–9, 483. Close comparison between the MT and LXX toponym registers of Nehemiah 11–12 indicates that settlements were added to these lists in the Hellenistic period. This is important, because it suggests that the registers were adjusted, in part, to reflect expanded Judean population movements and settlement claims in a later era. See further D. N. Fulton, Reconsidering Nehemiah’s Judah: The Case of MT and LXX Nehemiah 11–12 (FAT II/80; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2015), 17–117. 55 Reading with 1 Esd 5:68 (lectio brevior). The MT expands to “King Cyrus king of Persia” (hā-melek kôreš melek-pārās). 56 Another (different) version of the Cyrus edict appears in Ezra 6:3–5. Partial parallels to Ezra 1:1–4 occur in 2 Chr 36:22–23 and 1 Esd 2:1–6. Further reference to the edict is made in the communication of the Jerusalem elders to Tattenai and his associates (Ezra 5:13–15). There are interesting variants among the different versions of the Cyrus proclamation, but each has Cyrus command the rebuilding of the Jerusalem temple.
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rather whether those reconstructing the sanctuary were the people whom King Cyrus specifically charged to rebuild the sanctuary. For the Judahite and Benjaminite returnees to veer from the course allotted to them by imperial decree would be to compromise the royal pronouncement itself. In the literary progression of the work, the brief story about the adversaries of Judah and Benjamin (Ezra 4:1–3) is followed by a comment that “the people of the land” (ʿam-haʾāres) were “weakening the hands of the people of Judah ˙ (mĕrappîm yādê ʿam-yĕhûdâ) and making them afraid to build” (ûmĕbahălîm 57 ʾôtām libnôt). The short review in Ezra 4:4–5 may be best understood as an editorial commentary introduced into the text by the literary technique of resumptive repetition (from melek-pārās at the end of v. 3 to melek-pārās at the end of v. 5).58 While the writers do not straightforwardly equate the adversaries of Judah and Benjamin with the people of the land, that seems to be the implication of the literary placement of the short commentary. The people of the land “were bribing counselors (wĕsōkĕrîm ʿălêhem yôʿăs îm) to thwart their counsel ˙ (lĕhāpēr ʿăsātām) all the days of Cyrus King of Persia and until the reign of ˙ Darius King of Persia.”59 The editorial review, bridging the period of the first return under Cyrus (Ezra 1:1–11) and the later sanctuary reconstruction under Darius I (Ezra 5:1–2), points to a sustained history of external opposition to the golah community’s efforts to restore the central shrine. 60 Inasmuch as the Samarians might be included in such an omnibus collection of locals, the Samarians are implicated in the commentary.61 Yet, by the same token, they are not singled out.
57 Reading in Ezra 4:4 with the qere (cf. Ps 2:5; 83:16; Job 22:10; Dan 11:44; 2 Chr 32:18; 35:21). The ketiv has ומבלהים. Cf. 1 Esd 5:69–70. 58 Resumptive repetition is very much in evidence as an editorial device in a variety of narrative contexts, but this technique can sometimes be used by authors. See B. O. Long, “Framing Repetitions in Biblical Historiography,” JBL 106 (1987): 385–99. That its appearance here is editorial, rather than authorial, is evident by its intrusive content. According to the editorial comment in Ezra 4:5, the opposition to rebuilding the sanctuary extended from the time of Cyrus’ reign to the advent of Darius’ reign, but the earlier narration of the first return (Ezra 1:1–11) does not mention, as we have seen, any external hostility. Similarly, the elders’ communication to the investigating committee of Tattenai, the governor of Beyond the River, which mentions Sheshbazzar’s initiation of the building process, does not mention outside interference (5:13–16). 59 I am translating yôʿăs îm literally to call attention to the pun in the Hebrew. The NJPS ˙ translates yôʿăs îm as “ministers” (cf. NRSV “officials”). ˙ “Ezra and Nehemiah,” 322, followed by Williamson, Ezra, Nehemiah, 43– 60 So Talmon, 45, who refers to Ezra 3:1–6 and 3:7–4:3, and T. C. Eskenazi, In an Age of Prose: A Literary Approach to Ezra-Nehemiah (SBLMS 36; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988), 55–56. 61 Again, Josephus (Ant. 11.20) pinpoints the Cuthians (Samarians) as the culprits and the source of the bribes. Pummer points to the additional instance of the Samaritans allegedly bribing an imperial power (the Romans) in a later era (Ant. 20.119), Samaritans in Flavius Josephus, 82–84.
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iii. Rebuilding the Temple, Part 2 (Ezra 5:1–6:22) One other major case of external resistance to the temple rebuilding effort deserves consideration, because it has been linked in some studies to the Samarians. When the Judeans, encouraged by the prophets Haggai and Zechariah, proceed to restart the construction project, they are questioned by provincial leaders (Ezra 5:1–3). The official inquest represents a serious, but ultimately unsuccessful, effort by Tattenai the pahat ʿăbar-nahărâ (governor of Tran˙ seuphratene), Shethar-bozenai, and their colleagues to suspend the recently-resumed temple reconstruction under Zerubbabel and Jeshua. 62 These officials did so by inquiring directly of King Darius as to who had authorized the sanctuary construction (Ezra 5:3–17). 63 No specific sub-provinces within the Transeuphrates satrapy are said to be directly involved in this official inquiry.64 No co-authors are named in addition to Tattenai, Shethar-bozenai, and their allies (Ezra 5:3, 6; 6:6, 13).65 The provincial leaders travel directly to Jerusalem to inspect the building construction (Ezra 5:3, 7; 6:6).
62 Tattenai (Akkadian Tattannu) is mentioned in a number of cuneiform documents, the latest stemming from 502 BCE in which he is mentioned as the pīhat ebir nāri, “governor of Transeuphratene.” During the early reign of Darius I, Tattenai was˘ probably subordinate to a certain Uštānu, who had ultimate jurisdiction over Babylon and Across-the-River, M. Stolper, “The Governor of Babylon and Across–The–River in 486 BC,” JNES 48 (1989): 283–305; idem, “Babylonian Evidence for the End of the Reign of Darius I: A Correction,” JNES 51 (1992): 61–62. 63 My concern in discussing the Tattenai correspondence lies with the literary presentation in Ezra and how that presentation has been construed in scholarship. For questions of whether, or to what degree, one may make use of the Aramaic correspondence found in Ezra 4:8– 6:18 and 7:12–26 to reconstruct Persian period history, see recently D. Schwiderski, Handbuch der nordwestsemitischen Briefformulars: Ein Beitrag zur Echtheitsfrage der aramäischen Briefe des Esrabuches, (BZAW 295; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2000); S. Grätz, Das Edikt des Artaxerxes: Eine Untersuchung zum religionspolitischen und historischen Umfeld von Esra 7,12–26 (BZAW 337; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2005); R. Steiner, “Bishlam’s Archival Search Report in Nehemiah’s Archive: Multiple Introductions and Reverse Chronological Order as Clues to the Origin of the Aramaic Letters in Ezra 4–6,” JBL 125 (2006): 641–85; H. G. M. Williamson, “The Aramaic Documents in Ezra Revisited,” JTS 59 (2008): 41–62; Grabbe, “Persian Documents,” 531–70; Fried, Ezra, 200–88. 64 Josephus (Ant 11.88, 97) does make such specific assertions in his expansive retelling of the biblical text (following the broad narrative outline of 1 Esdras). Indeed, Josephus (Ant 11.114–119) contributes a substantial narrative of his own, basically unparalleled in Ezra and 1 Esdras, which speaks of the Samarians harassing the Judeans and the Judean leader Zerubbabel, along with four other leaders, by making a successful overture to Darius to complain about the maltreatment (Pummer, Samaritans in Flavius Josephus, 93–98). The narrative seems to be creatively constructed out of elements found in the stories about external opposition found in 1 Esdras (cf. Ezra 4–6), as well as from his own earlier fairly negative discussions of the Samaritans (Pohlmann, Studien zum dritten Esra, 103–4). 65 One could contend that Tattenai and Shethar-bozenai’s associates (kĕnāwātĕhôn; Ezra 5:3, 6; 6:6, 13) included the governors of neighboring sub-provinces, but this information is not specified in the text.
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After an official search successfully locates documentary evidence of Cyrus’ decree authorizing the Jerusalem temple’s reconstruction, Darius formally rebuffs the inquest of Tattenai, Shethar-bozenai, and their confrères, ordering them to keep their distance from Jerusalem (Ezra 6:6). The monarch not only authorizes the continuation of the construction, but also mandates that material support gained through tax receipts from ʿăbar nahărâ be forwarded for the effort (Ezra 6:7–10). The royal command includes a penalty clause mandating impalement for non-compliance (Ezra 6:11). The implication seems clear. The investigation into the existence of a valid building permit was provincially generated, financed, and executed. This, then, represented a different, but by no means less potent, threat to the viability of the rebuilding project in Yehud. The source of trouble was not to be found among the residents of neighboring districts, but rather among the leadership of ʿăbar nahărâ itself. A brief summary of the various sorts of external opposition encountered by the various waves of migrants may be useful. In spite of what many studies have asserted, Samarian hostility to Judah is not a key theme in the narratives of the return to and rebuilding in Jerusalem. It may be that some early interpreters (e.g., Josephus), who took the liberty of specifying the generalized foes faced by the repatriated expatriates, have unduly influenced modern interpretations.66 One does find hostility shown toward the returnees by the “people(s) of the land” and by the “adversaries of Judah and Benjamin.” Yet, while Samarians may be included within this large amorphous category, they are not singled out. As we have seen, the one instance in which specific leaders of the larger province of Transeuphrates challenge the construction project underway in Jerusalem (Ezra 5:3–6:5) – a challenge in which local adversaries evidently play no part – ultimately backfires. Having secured a version of the Cyrus edict, Darius commands the satrap Tattenai and his associates not only to permit the Jerusalem temple reconstruction to move forward, but also to support it in new ways (Ezra 6:6–12). 67 The repeated recourse to written records ultimately buttresses the right of Yehud’s residents to rebuild the Temple. 68 The sanctuary is thereby afforded a new level of state aid that it did not receive before. In short, the writers of Ezra 3–6 portray a series of local and regional challenges to the returned exiles in their quest to rebuild the house of Yhwh. Although the editorial review (Ezra 4:4–5) claims that conflict attends the entire period under view (538–515 BCE), conflict with locals mainly applies to the temple rebuilding under Zerub-
66 Josephus “elaborates on the biblical texts so that the identity of the adversaries of the Jews is clearly established. They [the Samaritans] are singled out as the main opponents of the returnees from the Babylonian exile,” Pummer, Samaritans in Flavius Josephus, 101. 67 J. Fleishman, “The Investigating Commission of Tattenai: The Purpose of the Investigation and its Results,” HUCA 66 (1995): 81–102. 68 Eskenazi, Age of Prose, 37–126.
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Part One: Oppositions and Alliances
babel and Jeshua (520–515 BCE). Within the larger picture, the Samarians play only a minor role.
Conclusions The stories of Ezra 1–6 fulfill varied functions and do not focus narrowly on Judean-Samarian tensions. Each of the episodes narrated evinces its own particular characteristics and internal dynamics. The major segments of postexilic life (538–515 BCE) mark the gradual, but ultimately successful, attempts of the repatriates to meet a series of challenges. The first challenge in the time of Sheshbazzar involves negotiating (presumably) an initial return of Judeans from the Babylonian captivity, restoring the sacred utensils from the First Temple, and beginning the temple foundation (Ezra 1:1–11; 5:14–16). Sheshbazzar’s legacy is mixed, yet he does not confront local opposition. A second set of challenges in the time of Zerubbabel and Jeshua consists of negotiating another much larger relocation, securing contributions, rebuilding the temple altar, and resuming a sacrificial service in Jerusalem (Ezra 2:1–3:13). A third no less important challenge for Zerubbabel, Jeshua, and the rest of the repatriates is to rebuild and consecrate the temple (Ezra 4:1–5; 5:1–6:22). During the second and third phases, the immigrants’ efforts are complicated by obstacles set by external opponents. A variety of outside groups take turns in contesting the new project. In the case of local resistance, a number of different, ill-defined, groups are in view. In the case of regional resistance, certain officials in the larger administrative district of Transeuphrates take the lead. Nevertheless, the regional resistance is no more successful than is the local resistance. The official inquiry actually leads to new satrapal underwriting for the sanctuary project. The larger point seems clear: whether dealing with local or with regional resistance, the repatriates receive critical assistance from their imperial sponsors to overcome, at least eventually, each obstacle they encounter. There is one case in Ezra 1–6 in which the Samarians take on a much more prominent and leadership role (Ezra 4:7–23), but the specific incidents in question relate to the mid-fifth century, not to the sixth century. 69 As is generally recognized, the editors of Ezra 1–6 have interpolated correspondence that self-referentially dates to a later time – that of King Artaxerxes I (464–423 BCE) – into their treatment of the earlier struggles under King Darius.70 This material (Ezra 4:7–23) pertaining to the letters exchanged between certain officials of 69 Talmon, “Ezra and Nehemiah,” 324; Williamson, Ezra, Nehemiah, 52–66; Halpern, “Historiographic Commentary,” 112; Glatt, Chronological Displacement, 113; Steiner, “Bishlam’s Archival Search Report,” 676–79; Grabbe, “Persian Documents,” 544–46, 563; Fried, Ezra, 200–30. 70 See n. 9 above.
Chapter One: Archenemies? Samarians and Judeans in the Early Persian Period
35
the province Beyond the River and the central imperial court in the mid-5th century – inserted by means of the literary technique of resumptive repetition71 – is employed achronologically to shed light on and defend the repatriates’ actions in the late-6th century.72 The Nehemiah materials do not cite the correspondence in Ezra 4:7–23, nor does the correspondence in Ezra 4:7–23 refer to Nehemiah and his wall-building campaign.73 In any event, both agree that the major time of Samarian-Judean confrontation occurred in the mid-fifth century. As for the latesixth century, one finds both local and regional resistance to the initiatives led by the repatriated bĕnê hā-gôlâ, but notions of perpetual, much less escalating, strains between the Judean and Samarian communities find little support in the available literary evidence. The conclusions reached through a close analysis of the complex materials in Ezra 1–6 largely comport, therefore, with the study of other evidence, both material and literary, relating to the first half of the Persian period.74
71 The first resumptive repetition extends from מלך־פרסat the end of v. 3 to מלך־פרסat the end of v. 5. The second extends from עד־מלכות דריוש מלך־פרסin v. 5 to עד שנת תרתין למלכות דריוש מלך־פרסat the end of v. 24. If so, the addition of the correspondence in vv. 7–24 is dependent upon the editorial summary of vv. 4 –5. Alternatively, there could have been simply one large insertion, excepting the later addition of v. 6 (see n. 28 above), extending from מלך־פרסat the end of v. 3 to מלך־פרסat the end of v. 24. But this seems less likely, given the internal literary evidence (Ezra 1:1–4:3) and the lack of a transition to the narrative beginning in Ezra 5:1. The composition of v. 24, beginning with the temporal indicator ( )באדיןrelates to previous action and frames the entire insertion of vv. 7–23 (Glatt, Chronological Displacement, 129–31). 72 An additional motivation for the insertion may have been to defend an earlier generation’s failure to complete their sacred task of temple construction (Halpern, “Historiographic Commentary,” 112; Glatt, Chronological Displacement, 129). 73 To complicate matters further, no such northern-southern tensions are evident in the Ezra materials (Ezra 7–10; Neh 7:72b–8:18). See section I above. 74 Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 54–134.
Chapter Two
“Should You Help the Wicked and Love Those who Hate Yhwh?” Alliances, Foreign Subjugation, and Empire in Chronicles The visionary ( )חזהJehu’s blunt reprimand of King Jehoshaphat (2 Chr 19:2), referenced in this essay’s title, is surprising on at least two levels.1 First, Jehu delivers an unequivocal condemnation of the Judahite king’s participation in a military alliance.2 Second, the prophet refers to Israel’s king as someone who “hates Yhwh.” By contrast, in other literary contexts, the writers present rather nuanced views of northern Israelites and the kinship ties they share with their southern Israelite counterparts.3 The literary work acknowledges that Israelites worship the same deity as Judahites do, are related to Judahites genealogically, are subject to the Torah, and share some historic institutions, such as prophecy, with Judah, even though the two groups became politically and cultically alienated from one another during Rehoboam’s reign (2 Chr 10:1–17). The strong prophetic disapproval of Judah entering into a compact with its northern relations thus merits further study. This essay has four parts. The first two parts explore the Chronistic aversion to alliances, whether with foreign powers (I) or with the northern kingdom of Israel (II), arguing that this aversion is part of a larger pattern in which the literary work rejects all pacts the independent kingdom of Judah forges with other states.4 The coalitions that the work depicts are disparate in nature – a vassal 1
An earlier version of the first two parts of this essay appeared as “‘Yhwh Is Not with Israel’: Alliances as a Topos in Chronicles,” CBQ 58 (1996): 601–26. The present work substantially expands, updates, and revises the older work. 2 Jehu ben Hanani serves during the reign of Jehoshaphat (2 Chr 19:2; 20:34), whereas in the Deuteronomistic work Jehu ben Hanani serves during the reign of Baasha, the contemporary of Asa, Jehoshaphat’s father (1 Kgs 16:1, 7, 12). 3 G. A. Danell, Studies in the Name Israel in the Old Testament (Uppsala: Appelsbergs Boktryckeri-A.-B, 1946); S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and Its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ 9; Frankfurt: Lang, 1989) 228–77; H. G. M. Williamson, Israel in the Books of Chronicles (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977) 66–67, 87–140; R. L. Braun, “A Reconsideration of the Chronicler’s Attitude Toward the North,” JBL 96 (1977): 59–62; G. N. K noppers, I Chronicles 1–9 (AB 12; New York: Doubleday/New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004) 83–85; R. W. Klein, 1 Chronicles (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2006) 46; L. C. Jonker, Defining All-Israel in Chronicles: Multi-levelled Identity Negotiation in Late Persian-Period Yehud (FAT 106; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016). 4 Chronicles includes virtually every alliance involving Judah mentioned in Kings and a few other pacts as well. An exception is 2 Kgs 3:4–27; see J. R. Bartlett, “The ‘United’ Cam-
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treaty, a military alliance, a maritime accord, a marriage alliance, and a contract to hire imported mercenaries. Yet, whether the Kings of Judah forge coalitions with the leaders of other nations or with northern Israel, the diplomatic measures are denounced in similar terms and the coalitions yield similarly dismal results. The bold rewriting of Kings is remarkable, revealing a consistent effort to restructure the past to demonstrate both the illicit nature of such associations and, paradoxically, their futility. But why would the authors of Chronicles be concerned with pacts forged with northern Israel and with other states in the late Achaemenid/early Hellenistic period, a time in which Judeans had already been under foreign hegemony for centuries?5 The condition of foreign subjection thus also merits attention. The Yehud and Samaria of Chronistic times were not independent kingdoms, but rather sub-provinces of an immense international Persian (and subsequently much smaller Ptolemaic) empire. Although the Chronistic work devotes the bulk of its narratives to the united monarchy and the Judahite kingdom, it allocates some coverage to the age of the Babylonian and Persian empires in its discussion of Judah’s last Davidic kings. Section III of this essay examines how the work negotiates the transition to an era in which Judah loses its political autonomy. In depicting the advent of imperial hegemony, the literary work does not present a simplistic and one-dimensional approach to dealing with international diplomatic affairs. In this respect, the discussion in the third part of this essay complicates and nuances the discussion in the first two parts. As the reworking of Josiah’s ill-fated engagement with the Egyptian Pharaoh Neco demonstrates, the work does not demonize “the Other.” Neco appears, in fact, as the unexpected bearer of a blunt message from God intended to dissuade one of Judah’s most accomplished kings from pursuing an ill-conceived foreign policy venture. In confronting the rise of the Neo-Babylonian empire in the late seventh and early-sixth centuries and the rise of Persian hegemony in the late-sixth century, the work engages a set of additional issues. Granted the opposition to foreign alliances, what is a king to do if foreign subjection is not something freely sought as part of a diplomatic vassal-suzerain alliance, but is divinely imposed upon Judah as a punitive action? If the body politic thus finds itself organized as a client state or as an imperial sub-province, should the people explore ways to paign Against Moab in 2 K ings 3:4–27,” in Midian, Edom, and Moab (ed. J. F. A. Sawyer and D. J. A. Clines; JSOTSup 24; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1983) 135–46. That the story includes an unambiguous oracle of success by a revered prophet (Elisha; 2 Kgs 3:16–19), blessing the joint campaign of Judah and Israel against Moab would be regarded as problematic in Chronistic circles. See G. N. K noppers and E. L. Welch, “Friends or Foes? Elijah and Other Prophets in the Deuteronomistic History,” in Enemies and Friends of the State: Ancient Prophecy in Context (ed. C. Rollston; University Park, PA: Penn State University Press/Eisenbrauns, 2018) 219–56. 5 On this approximate date for the work’s composition, see my I Chronicles 1–9, 111–17.
Chapter Two: “Should You Help the Wicked and Love those who Hate Yhwh?”
39
extricate themselves from such an arrangement or explore means to instigate a political insurrection? Or, alternatively, should they work within the confines of an imperial regime? In this case, the work advances, I would argue, a rather nuanced stance. Because the writers follow the writings of Jeremiah and Ezekiel in regarding the dominance of Babylon as a divine judgment on Judah, they view Zedekiah’s reneging on his client oath to Nebuchadnezzar (unparalleled in Kings) as an act of bad faith, a mark against the character of his rule. Finally, the work presents the rise of Cyrus and his decree allowing the Judeans to return home to rebuild the temple as the harbinger of a new age. An exploration of the paradigmatic treatment of international covenants and foreign subjugation provides, therefore, a fresh perspective on the complexities of how Judean writers in the early Second Temple period attempted to negotiate minority status within a world dominated by others. The final part of this essay (IV) attempts to situate these complicated Chronistic foreign policy positions within the context of the shifting political currents of the fourth century BCE. Thus, my interest is not simply structural, but also historical, exploring the relevance of the ideological restructuring of the past for the times in which the writers work.6 If the patterning of tradition lends an exemplary status to the reimagined past the work creates, what is the upshot of that creation?7 My supposition is that the writers’ own situation in which Yehud formed a separate sub-province from that of Samaria was analogous in some respects to the dual monarchies in which Israel formed a separate kingdom from that of Judah. It is likely that the political agenda the writers would like to see implemented internationally, inasmuch as Judah’s elite had a role to play in these matters, would be most clearly enunciated during their portrayal of this particular era.
I. Foreign Alliances during the Dual Monarchies Five alliances made during the era of the dual monarchies comprise the principal subject matter of this section and the next. After discussing two covenants that 6 In Chronicles, the reign of David (1 Chronicles 11–29) marks a period of conquest, national consolidation, administrative organization, and planning for the temple, while the reign of Solomon (2 Chronicles 1–9) marks a period of international prestige, unprecedented peace, stability, and construction of the temple, J. Tiňo, King and Temple in Chronicles: A Contextual Approach (FRLANT 234; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2010) 35–107. 7 P. R. Ackroyd, “History and Theology in the Writings of the Chronicler,” CTM 38 (1967): 501–15; idem, “The Chronicler as Exegete,” JSOT 2 (1977): 2–32; idem, “God and People,” 160–62; T. Willi, Die Chronik als Auslegung (FRLANT 106; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1972) 160–69; R. K. Duke, The Persuasive Appeal of the Chronicler: A Rhetorical Analysis (JSOTSup 88; Sheffield: Almond, 1990) 143–44.
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Judah’s kings establish with foreign powers (I), this study will examine three of the pacts Judah makes with Israel (II). Both Kings and Chronicles mention two Judahite kings, Asa and Ahaz, who attempt to forge or reaffirm pacts with foreign powers. Even though Chronicles incorporates much of the pertinent ma terial from Kings, it reshapes and augments its source, presenting the two alliances as not only failures of faith, but also as failures of history.
i. Asa’s Treaty with Ben-hadad Kings and Chronicles contextualize the covenant between Asa and Ben-hadad of Aram differently.8 Kings associates Asa’s recourse to the Arameans with the continual state of war between Israel and Judah (1 Kgs 15:16), specifically Baasha’s attack on Judah and his fortification of Ramah, which restricted Asa’s troop movements (1 Kgs 15:17).9 Confronted with this threat, Asa empties the temple treasuries of all gold and silver and dispatches his attendants to Ben-hadad with a request for a treaty.10 The diplomatic proposal contains a codicil that Ben-hadad should abrogate his treaty with Baasha.11 Asa’s stratagem to engineer a major geo-political shift in international relations by forcing the Israelite monarch to address a new front, an external threat to the northeast is a clear success: Ben-hadad accedes to Asa’s appeal and attacks Israel (1 Kgs 15:20).12 Because Baasha is forced to withdraw from Ramah, Asa is able to fortify Geba and Mizpah, thereby expanding and protecting his northern frontier (1 Kgs 15:20–22). The more substantial and complicated Chronistic treatment of Asa, three times longer than the laconic treatment of Kings, presents Asa’s league in an entirely new light.13 Unlike the situation in Kings, Asa’s reign divides clearly into two periods, the first of which lasts thirty-four years is characterized by 8 R. B. Dillard, “The Reign of Asa (2 Chr 14–16): An Example of the Chronicler’s Theological Method,” JETS 23 (1980): 207–18. 9 The expression “to go out and come in” can have martial connotations (Deut 31:8; Josh 14:11; 1 Sam 18:13; 2 Sam 5:12; 1 Kgs 3:7; Isa 37:28). 10 Some have viewed the use of palace and temple treasuries to ward off an invading king or to invite a third party to intervene in a Judahite crisis as a mark of religious infidelity. That is undoubtedly true for Chronicles, but the Deuteronomistic writers are more pragmatically minded. See G. N. K noppers, “Treasures Won and Lost: Royal (Mis)appropriations in Kings and Chronicles,” in The Chronicler as Author (ed. M. P. Graham and S. L. McKenzie; JSOTSup 263; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999) 181–208. 11 Asa’s tactic finds parallels in extra-biblical (e.g., RS 17.340:5–24) and biblical texts (e.g., 2 Kgs 16:5–10). Faced with the invasion of an enemy force, a minor power turns to a third party for aid, offering political subservience and tribute. On Ahaz’s pact with Tiglath-pileser III, see section I.ii below. 12 On the use of the expression “( ויׁשמע אלand he heard [him]”) to imply consent, see Gen 34:17, 24; 1 Kgs 12:15, 16 || 2 Chr 10:15, 16; 2 Kgs 16:9; 18:31, 32 || Isa 36:16; 1 Chr 29:23. 13 2 Chr 13:23–16:14 (48 verses); cf. 1 Kgs 15:8–24 (16 verses). See recently, R. W. K lein, 2 Chronicles (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2012), 208–44.
Chapter Two: “Should You Help the Wicked and Love those who Hate Yhwh?”
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fidelity, while the second much shorter period of seven years is characterized by infidelity.14 Introductory Notices
1 Kgs 15:9–11
2 Chr 13:23–14:1
Cultic Reforms
1 Kgs 15:12–15
2 Chr 14:2–8
Defeat of Zerah
—
2 Chr 14:9–15
Azariah’s Oracle
—
2 Chr 15:1–7
Covenant Renewal
—
2 Chr 15:8–15
Further Reforms
—
2 Chr 15:16–18
War with Baasha
1 Kgs 15:16–17
2 Chr 15:19–16:1
Appeal to Ben-hadad
1 Kgs 15:18–19
2 Chr 16:2–3
Israel Repelled
1 Kgs 15:20–21 2 Chr 16:4–5
Building Activity
1 Kgs 15:22
2 Chr 16:6
Hanani’s Oracle
—
2 Chr 16:7–9
Asa’s Rage
—
2 Chr 16:10
Diseased Feet
1 Kgs 15:23
2 Chr 16:12
Concluding Notices
1 Kgs 15:23–24 2 Chr 16:11–14
By depicting more than three decades of royal success, Chronicles renders Asa’s recourse to a third party (Ben-hadad) as unnecessary. In fact, the response to Baasha’s embargo marks the turning point in Asa’s tenure. Heretofore, Asa’s seeking the deity and completely relying upon him have been associated with peace, the fortification of various towns, and the decimation of an immense invading Cushite army. Even though Asa’s success during this first period is dramatic, he receives an ominous visit from one Azariah son of Oded, informing Asa and “all Judah and Benjamin” about an earlier period of anarchy in Israel’s past.15 During this time of upheaval “there was no safety for the person going 14 It is evident that the Deuteronomistic presentation of Asa was problematic for the Chronicler. The juxtaposition of a commendation for Asa and a statement that Asa was continually at war with Baasha would be a counterexample to the Chronistic belief in “the coherence of action and effect” in Israelite history; see B. S. Childs, An Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979), 651–53. This belief has often been reductively typed as a doctrine of immediate retribution. 15 Both ancient and modern interpreters dispute to which period this speech alludes. The LXX uses the future active indicative tense in vv. 4 and 6. Similarly, Josephus interprets Azariah’s prophecy as pertaining to Judah’s future exile (Ant. 8.12.2 §§296–97); see C. T. Begg, Josephus’ Account of the Early Divided Monarchy (AJ 8, 212–420): Rewriting the Bible (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1993). In contrast, Tg. 2 Chr 15:3–6 presents the period of anarchy as the time of disunion. Some, but not all, modern scholars see the anarchy as referring to the period of the chieftains; see R. K ittel, Die Bücher der Chronik und Esra, Nehemia und
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Part One: Oppositions and Alliances
out or for the person coming in ()אין ׁשלום ליוצא ולבא, because of the great unrest16 among all of the inhabitants of the lands” (2 Chr 15:5). Azariah’s point is clear: Israel was delivered from its distress when “it turned back ( )וישׁבto Yhwh, sought him ()ויבקשׁהו, and he was found by them” ( ; וימצא להם2 Chr 15:4).17 Azariah’s admonitory tone is surprising, given Asa’s record of accomplishment, but I would argue that this oracle is critically situated in the first part of Asa’s reign to anticipate Asa’s major failings in the second part of his reign.18 One of the major duties of prophets is to provide Israelites with informed counsel about the consequences of their actions.19 Azariah performs this function admirably. Having editorialized upon Asa’s glory and depicted prophetic counsel to the monarch, the writers incorporate the story of Asa’s alliance with Ben-hadad from Kings with few changes, but with great effect. When Baasha marches against Judah, fortifies Ramah, and thereby blockades Asa from “going out and coming in” ( ; לבלתי תת יוצא ובא לאסא2 Chr 16:1), Asa does not turn to Yhwh for help as Azariah instructed, but to Ben-hadad (2 Chr 16:2–3). In other words, Asa’s successes over the course of some three decades may have led him to take risks that he otherwise might not have taken earlier in his reign. Including the entire account of the pact and its effects from Kings, Chronicles appends a verbal indictment of Asa from Hanani the seer.20
Esther (GHKAT 1/6; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1902), 132–33; K. Galling, Die Bücher der Chronik, Esra, Nehemia (ATD 12; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1954), 114; W. Rudolph, Chronikbücher (HAT 21; Tübingen: Mohr, 1955), 244–45; Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCB; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982), 266–69; S. Japhet, I & II Chronicles (OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1993), 717–21. 16 Reading with the MT ( מהומת רבותlectio difficilior). The LXX has ἔκστασις κυρίου, “terror of the Lord.” Cf. Zech 14:13 ( || מהומת יהוהἔκστασις κυρίου). In Chronicles ἔκστασις κυρίου usually translates ( פחד יהוה2 Chr 14:13; 17:10; 20:29). 17 Azariah’s speech (2 Chr 15:2–7) exemplifies several important facets of Chronistic theology: S. R. Driver, “The Speeches in Chronicles,” The Expositor 2 (1895): 305–6; G. von Rad, Das Geschichtsbild des chronistischen Werkes (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1930) 10–15; idem, “The Levitical Sermon in I and II Chronicles,” in his The Problem of the Hexateuch and other Essays (London: SCM, 1966) 270–71; O. Plöger, “Reden und Gebete im deuteronomistischen und chronistischen Geschichtswerk,” Festchrift für Günther Dehn zum 75. Geburts tag (ed. W. Schneemelcher; Neukirchen: Neukirchener Verlag, 1957) 35–49; T. Willi, Die Chronik als Auslegung (FRLANT 106; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1972), 213; R. Dillard, 2 Chronicles (WBC 15; Waco: Word, 1987), 77; M. T hrontveit, When Kings Speak: Royal Speech and Royal Prayer in Chronicles (SBLDS 93; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987), 127– 28; S. J. De Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles (FOTL; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1989), 300–2. 18 Hence, I disagree with the assessment of E. L. Curtis and A. A. Madsen: “This whole speech fits in badly with the occasion of the victory and is an unskillful introduction to the reform of Asa,” The Books of Chronicles (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1910), 384. 19 Japhet, Ideology, 184–90. 20 Prophetic oracles are a typical means by which the work structures and evaluates particular regnal segments. Most monarchs are subject to at least one such an oracle.
Chapter Two: “Should You Help the Wicked and Love those who Hate Yhwh?”
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Because you relied upon the king of Aram and did not rely upon Yhwh your God, the army of the Aramean king 21 has escaped from your grasp. Were not the Cushites and the Libyans a great army with chariots and horsemen 22 in great numbers?23 Yet, because you relied upon Yhwh, he delivered 24 (them) into your grasp. Indeed, the eyes of Yhwh roam over the whole land to strengthen the hearts of those who are completely devoted to him. You have acted foolishly 25 in this matter; therefore, from now on you will have26 war. 27 (2 Chr 16:7–9)
Containing many Chronistic clichés, Hanani’s judgment oracle establishes a series of contrasts that heighten the disparity between the two terms in Asa’s rule. Whereas Asa formerly relied (nipʿal of )ׁשעןupon Yhwh and was able to defeat the vast armies of Cush and Libya (2 Chr 14:7–14; 15:8), Asa’s reliance ( )בהׁשענךupon Ben-hadad is tantamount to non-reliance ( )לא נׁשענתupon Yhwh (2 Chr 16:7). Whereas Asa’s reign was formerly blessed by Yhwh’s presence (2 Chr 14:6, 10; 15:9) and tranquility ( )ׁשקטהin the land (2 Chr 13:23; 14:4, 5; 15:19), “because Yhwh granted rest to him” ( ; כי הניח יהוה לו2 Chr 14:5–6; 15:15), Asa will now find himself afflicted with personal and corporate troubles.28 Two judgments follow from Hanani’s accusation. First, the army of a potential (or real) foe has eluded Asa’s grasp. The southern king is confronted with an 21 LXX miniscules be , Theodotion, and the Armenian version reflect βασιλέως Ίσραήλ, 2 which at first glance would seem to fit better within its context (lectio facilior). After all, Asa is pressed by the army of Israel and not by an Aramean king. But Chronicles seems to have all three parties in view. Asa’s diplomatic maneuver converts Ben-hadad from being a nonaligned but potentially dangerous third party (and possibly an ally of Baasha) to being Baasha’s enemy and Asa’s suzerain. Asa has thereby needlessly complicated his own state’s security arrangements. Having proven his sovereignty against the vast armies of the Cushites and Libyans, the deity could have easily dispensed with the Aramean army as well. Hence, I read with the MT (lectio difficilior). See also Curtis and Madsen, Chronicles, 389; Japhet, Chronicles, 736; Klein, 2 Chronicles, 235. 22 The LXX AB read εἰς θάρσος, while be2 apparently conflates the two readings by inserting ἅρματα before ἱππεῖς. The relatively rare θάρσος usually renders a form of the root אמץ (E. Hatch, and H. Redpath, A Concordance to the Septuagint and the other Greek Versions of the Old Testament [2 vols.; Oxford: Clarendon, 1897] 626); hence, its occurrence here is evidently a corruption. 23 Reading with the MT and LXX. T he Syriac and Arabic have lost לרבby homoioarkton before לרכב. 24 The MT reads נתנם. The LXX, with the exception of bdgpze , lacks the suffix. Since the 2 idiom נתן בידusually takes an object, the MT is the lectio facilior. I read with the LXX (lectio brevior). In certain environments, the suffix is unnecessary in West Semitic. 25 A number of Greek witnesses explicate by adding καὶ νῦν before ἠγνόηκας. 26 Rudolph’s creative proposal (Chronikbücher, 248) that a haplography by homoioarkton has occurred (leaving עמךinstead of an original )עם ארם לעמךlacks textual support and neglects the Chronistic reuse of 1 Kgs 15:16 (see below). 27 A few Hebrew MSS, the LXX, and the Syriac have the sg. ()מלחמה, while the MT, like the MT of 1 Kgs 15:16, has the pl. ()מלחמות. I read the sg. (maximum variation). 28 The infirmity in Asa’s feet (1 Kgs 15:23) becomes another indication of Asa’s unfaithfulness, because “even in his sickness he did not seek Yhwh” ( ; וגם־בחליו לא־דרש את־יהוה2 Chr 16:12). See C. T. Begg, “‘Seeking Yahweh’ and the Purpose of Chronicles,” Louvain Studies 9 (1982): 128–41.
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unintended outcome. Given the trouble the Arameans will cause both Israel and Judah (e.g., 1 Kgs 22:1–40 || 2 Chr 18:1–34), the third party Aramean aggression against Israel comes at a cost to Judah. Second, the penalty for the royal ploy to extricate Judah from its struggle with Israel is, ironically, that Asa will always be plagued with wars.29 Hence, Chronicles derives a causal connection between Asa’s subservience to Ben-hadad and the statement of 1 Kgs 15:16 that Asa continually experienced wars. Entering a compact has only made matters worse. Orchestrating a corresponding set of rhetorical contrasts between the two terms he posits in Asa’s tenure, the text demonstrates first positively, then negatively the value of complete reliance upon the deity. However different they are in tone and in context, the prophetic speeches of Azariah and Hanani nevertheless underscore a single theme: “Yhwh is with you when you are with him” (2 Chr 15:2). Such piety involves pursuing an independent course from the nations and concomitantly, a dependent course in Judah’s relationship with Yhwh.
ii. Ahaz’s Client Treaty with Tiglath-pileser III The Chronistic treatment of Ahaz differs markedly from that of the Deuteronomistic writing.30 Both Kings and Chronicles rate Ahaz rather negatively, but the reign of the Chronistic Ahaz is characterized by unmitigated decline. In fact, Ahaz’s long and degenerate reign marks him as Judah’s worst king. Each strategic decision Ahaz makes proves to be a strategic blunder.31 Introductory Notices
2 Kgs 16:1–3a
2 Chr 28:1–2a
Cultic Impropriety
2 Kgs 16:3b–4
2 Chr 28:2b–4
Syro-Ephraimite War
2 Kgs 16:5
2 Chr 28:5
Edom Takes Elath
2 Kgs 16:6
[2 Chr 28:17]
Israel Defeats Judah
—
2 Chr 28:6–15
29 A. Ruffing, Jahwekrieg als Weltmetapher: Studien zu Jahwekriegstexten des chronistischen Sondergutes (SBB 24; Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1992); T. D. Cudworth, War in Chronicles: Temple Faithfulness and Israel’s Place in the Land (LHBOTS 627; London: Bloomsbury: T. & T. Clark, 2016). 30 P. R . Ackroyd, “The Biblical Interpretation of the Reigns of Ahaz and Hezekiah,” in In the Shelter of Elyon: Essays on Ancient Palestinian Life and Literature in Honor of G. W. Ahlström (ed. W. B. Barrick and J. R. Spencer; JSOTSup 31; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984), 247–59; E. Ben Zvi, “A Gateway to the Chronicler’s Teaching: The Account of the Reign of Ahaz in 2 Chr 28,1–27,” SJOT 7 (1993): 216–49; idem, “Chronicles and its Reshaping of Memories of Monarchic Period Prophets: Some Observations,” in Prophets and Prophecy and Ancient Israelite Historiography (ed. M. J. Boda and L. W. Beal: Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2013), 167–88,” P. S. Evans, “Prophecy influencing History: Dialogism in the Chronicler’s Ahaz Narrative,” in Prophets and Prophecy and Ancient Israelite Historiography, 143–65. 31 Ben Zvi, “Gateway,” 227–30.
Chapter Two: “Should You Help the Wicked and Love those who Hate Yhwh?”
Appeal to Assyria
2 Kgs 16:7
2 Chr 28:16
Temple Plunder
2 Kgs 16:8
[2 Chr 28:21]
Revolt of Edom
[2 Kgs 16:6]
2 Chr 28:17
Revolt of Philistia
—
2 Chr 28:18
Assyria Defeats Damascus
2 Kgs 16:9
—
Review
—
2 Chr 28:19
Assyrian Oppression
—
2 Chr 28:20
Temple Plunder
[2 Kgs 16:8]
2 Chr 28:21a
Judah Unaided
—
2 Chr 28:21b
45
Kings and Chronicles present two dramatically variant accounts of Ahaz’s relations with Tiglath-pileser III.32 In Kings, the monarchs of Aram and Israel join forces and invade Judah. Exploiting this moment of vulnerability for Judah, the king of Edom retakes Elath for his citizens and expels the Judahites living there (2 Kgs 16:6).33 Beleaguered by the Syro-Ephraimite forces, Ahaz attempts to outflank his opponents by convincing a powerful third party to enter the fray. He appeals to the Assyrian king: “Your servant and your son am I (;)עבדך ובנך אני come up and deliver me ( )עלה והושעניfrom the grasp of the kings of Israel and Aram, those rising up against me” (2 Kgs 16:7). Like Asa before him, Ahaz appropriates silver and gold from the temple and palace treasuries, conveying them as a “bribe” ( )ׁשחדto the Assyrian monarch (2 Kgs 16:8).34 This diplomatic appeal occasions a positive response similar to the response of Ben-hadad to Asa ( ויׁשמע אליו, 2 Kgs 16:9; cf. 1 Kgs 15:20). Tiglath-pileser marches to Damascus, 32 Ackroyd, “Biblical Interpretation,” 251–58; M. E. W. T hompson, Situation and Theology: Old Testament Interpretations of the Syro-Ephraimite War (Sheffield: Almond, 1982), 79–124. 33 The Kěthîb of the MT consistently reads ( ארםand )ארמיםin this verse, while the LXX reads אדםtwice and אדמיםonce. The Qĕrê of ארמיםin the MT is pointed as אדמים. The dālet/rêš confusion is not unusual in Samuel-Kings; see 1 Sam 21:8; 22:9; 2 Sam 8:12–13 [cf. 1 Chr 18:12]; 2 Kgs 24:2, and the comments of C. F. Burney, Notes on the Hebrew Text of the Book of Kings (Oxford: Clarendon, 1920) 325; P. K. McCarter, Textual Criticism (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986) 45–46. Given that the authors employed a proto-Rabbinic text of Kings (S. L. McKenzie, The Chronicler’s Use of the Deuteronomistic History [HSM 33; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985], 154–55), the reading of 2 Chr 28:17 ( )אדומיםadds support to reconstructing an original אדוםin 2 Kgs 16:6. 34 There has been considerable discussion whether Ahaz is appealing to treaty provisions already in force or is attempting to forge a new treaty. Since this issue does not directly pertain to our study, it need not detain us. See further, P. Kalluveetil, Declaration and Covenant (AnBib 88; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1982), 124–25; M. Cogan and H. Tadmor and M. Cogan, II Kings (AB 11; New York: Doubleday, 1988), 186–92; M. A. Sweeney, I & II Kings (OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2007), 380–86.
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Part One: Oppositions and Alliances
captures it, deports its inhabitants, and puts Rezin to death (2 Kgs 16:9).35 The critical third-party intervention grants a much-needed reprieve to Ahaz. The client treaty is, at the very least, a temporary success. Through omissions, modifications, additions, and alternate sequence of presentation, Chronicles presents an Ahaz whose rule differs considerably from that of Kings. First, the work directly attributes the onslaughts by Assyria and Israel to divine retribution for Ahaz’s cultic improprieties (2 Chr 28:5). Second, the kings of Aram and Israel do not act in consort. Instead, the Judahite leader is confronted with two separate and distinct invasions. The Aramean king initially defeats Ahaz and captures a host of prisoners (2 Chr 28:5). Subsequently, Israel’s king defeats Ahaz with a great slaughter and seizes a vast number of captives (2 Chr 28:6–8). In the aftermath of these debacles Ahaz does not alter course, but petitions the kings of Assyria “to help ( )עזרhim” (2 Chr 28:16).36 Within the context of this appeal to Tiglath-pileser, the work mentions revolts of the Edomites (2 Chr 28:17) and the capture of a number of towns, along with their satellites, in the Shephelah and the Negev by the Philistines (2 Chr 28:18).37 The narrator comments: “Indeed, Yhwh humbled Judah ( )כי־הכניע יהוה את־יהודהon account of Ahaz king of Israel,38 because he removed restraint in Judah 39 and rebelled wantonly against Yhwh” (2 Chr 28:19).40 35 I read with the LXX B (lectio brevior). The MT adds expansionary קירה, indicating the fulfilment of Amos 9:7. 36 I follow the MT’s מלכי אׁשור, rather than the LXX’s ( מלך אׁשורlectio difficilior). See also the use of מלכי ארםin 2 Chr 28:23. Williamson (Chronicles, 348) aptly notes the sarcastic play on עזרin vv. 16, 21, and 23. 37 The MT of Chronicles consistently reads ( תלגת פלנאסרso also 1 Chr 5:6, 26), Knoppers, I Chronicles 1–9, 377. Some commentators understand the revolts of Edom and Philistia (2 Chr 28:17–18) as precipitating Ahaz’s petition to Assyria (2 Chr 28:16) and therefore read the perfects of vv. 17–18 as pluperfects (e.g., Williamson, Chronicles, 347–48; Dillard, 2 Chronicles, 221–23). The use of perfects as pluperfects is unusual, but not impossible (P. Joüon, Grammaire de l’hébreu biblique [rev. ed.; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1923], §112c; cf. §118d). But if the writers wished to depict the Edomite and Philistine invasions as the occasion of Ahaz’s overture, why did they not follow the example of their Vorlage (2 Kgs 16:6) and simply mention the invasion(s) prior to Ahaz’s appeal? 38 Marginal notes in a number of Hebrew MSS point to “Israel” as a problematic lemma. The preceding verses have “Judah” (vv. 17–19). Similarly, many of the versions (e.g., the LXX, the Vg, and Tg. Ket.) have “Judah.” But I read “Israel” with the MT (lectio difficilior). As elsewhere in Chronicles, the work plays on the different nuances of the name Israel, Knoppers, I Chronicles 1–9, 284–85; idem, I Chronicles 10–29 (AB 12A; New York: Doubleday/New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004), 486–87, 511–14, 625–26. 39 The lack of an equivalent expression for הפריע ביהודהin the LXX may be due to haplography by homoioteleuton (from מלך יהודהto )הפריע ביהודה. BDB, 829 col. 1, translates the hipʿil of פרעonly here with the meaning to “shew a lack of restraint.” It is more likely that the verb is being used in the sense of “to remove restraint” (e.g., Exod 32:25; Prov 29:18). 40 I follow the LXX in interpreting מעול מעלas an infinitive absolute intensifying a finite verb. Japhet (Chronicles, 906–7) follows the MT and interprets ּו ָמעֹול ַמעַלas a nominal clause with both Ahaz and Judah as subject.
Chapter Two: “Should You Help the Wicked and Love those who Hate Yhwh?”
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Due to unforeseen consequences, Ahaz’s appeal to Assyria does not eventuate in the desired result. Quite the contrary, Tiglath-pileser “oppressed him and did not strengthen him” ( ;ויצר לו ולא חזקו2 Chr 28:20).41 As in Kings, the Judahite monarch plunders temple and palace to induce the king of Assyria to intervene; nevertheless, the foreign policy gambit leads only to increased oppression. Ahaz’s stratagem represents a naïve attempt to relieve Judah from Assyrian domination. Playing on the root “( עזרto help”), the narrator sarcastically remarks that Ahaz’s expropriation of the treasuries “was of no help to him” ( ; ולא לעזרה לו2 Chr 28:21).42 The diplomatic ploy is an abject failure. Both the appeal and the inducement elicit the opposite effect that Ahaz intended. Never assenting to an alliance, Tiglath-pileser seizes the opportunity to exploit Ahaz’s strategic vulnerability, rather than to aid him. The entire affair is emblematic of the decline and ignominy that define Ahaz’s rule.
iii. Foreign Alliances in Review Descriptions of international pacts in Kings typically contain little or no theological commentary. Nor do the writers of Kings explicitly draw any connection, whether negatively or positively, between the ratification of a treaty (or the abrogation of such) and the theological review of these kings. Three out of the six southern kings – Asa (1 Kgs 15:11–12, 17–19), Jehoshaphat (1 Kgs 22:18–19, 43), and Hezekiah (2 Kgs 18:3–5, 13–16) – who explicitly enter into pacts (or who rebel against their suzerains) are rated positively in Kings.43 The regnal evaluations in Kings involve cultic fidelity, defined as unstinting support for the Jerusalem temple and the abolition of all illicit cults –Yahwistic or otherwise.44 The writers evidently adopt a pragmatic stance, accepting that especially in emergencies strategic alliances with certain foreign potentates afforded the small state of Judah with relief from the pressure it faced from much larger and more powerful regimes. Playing one enemy off against another could serve the national interest. 41 The phase ולא חזקו, “and he did not strengthen him” or “and he did not overtake him” (Japhet, Chronicles, 907), may be an expansion in the MT. T he LXX is the lectio brevior, yet it is possible that the phrase was lost to the Vorlage of the LXX by haplography (either homoi oteleuton or homoioarkton after )ויצר לו. 42 In contrast, God helps ( )עזרfaithful kings (e.g., 2 Chr 14:11; 18:31: 25:8; 26:7, 15; 32:8). 43 Three southern kings – Ahaz (2 Kgs 16:2–3, 5–9), Jehoiakim (2 Kgs 23:35, 37; 24:1), and Zedekiah (2 Kgs 24:19–20) – who enter into pacts (or who rebel against their suzerains) are rated negatively. One king, rated positively in Kings – Amaziah (2 Kgs 14:3, 11–14) enters into a foreign association, as we have seen, in Chronicles. Another king, rated positively in Kings – Hezekiah (2 Kgs 18:3–5) does not violate a client treaty, as he does in Kings. Instead, the invasion of Sennacherib (2 Chr 32:1–22) comes as a complete surprise. 44 G. N. K noppers, Two Nations Under God: The Deuteronomistic History of Solomon and the Dual Monarchies (2 vols.; HSM 52–53; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1993–1994), 2.171–215.
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Part One: Oppositions and Alliances
In contrast, much negative attention is devoted to foreign treaties in Chronicles. Employing the prophetic voice, the Chronistic writing editorializes against foreign associations and restructures the narratives drawn from Kings to argue for the adverse effects of such diplomatic ventures. To be sure, inveighing against foreign pacts is not novel. Prophetic writings, such as Hosea (7:10–13; 8:9–10), Isaiah (20; 28:14–28; 30:15), and Jeremiah (2:14–19, 33–37), attack treaties with surrounding states as acts of disloyalty. Similarly, Deuteronomy forbids any union of interests between Israel and the autochthonous inhabitants of Canaan (7:2).45 The deity urges Israelite fidelity to his statutes, vowing swift retribution against those who reject him, while promising loyalty to the thousandth generation to those who love him (Deut 7:9–11). Yet, the prophetic legacy is not univocal. While cautioning against pacts with Judah’s regional neighbors, the authors of Jeremiah do so on the grounds that Judah should give up any hopes of independence and accept rule by Babylon (e.g., Jer 25:1–14).46 In this judgment, submission to the yoke of an international empire is the price that Judah has to pay for its transgressions against Yhwh (Jer 27:1–28:17). As we shall see (Section IV), Chronicles also presents a more nuanced perspective in dealing with the challenges posed by the events of the sixth century BCE. Yet, in dealing with the prospect of foreign alliances in the dual monarchies, the work presents a wary stance, urging royal restraint in international affairs. Like Deuteronomy, Chronicles associates foreign alliances with infidelity and divine retribution. But Chronicles also goes beyond the assertions of Deuteronomy and the prophets. The writer thoroughly reworks his Vorlage to demonstrate that each pact is actually unsuccessful. Divine retaliation attends the pursuit of each treaty. Seeking deliverance from one war, Asa is confronted with continual wars (2 Chr 16:9). Desiring help from Tiglath-pileser, Ahaz encounters oppression instead.
II. Alliances with the Northern Kingdom Having examined the condemnation of two attempted international treaties, we are in a better position to assess the significance of Judah’s alliances with Israel. Of the various pacts made between southern Israel and northern Israel, my work will focus upon pacts occurring in the reigns of Jehoshaphat and Amaziah.47 Despite the disparate nature of these covenants between South and North, 45 Targeting specifically indigenous peoples, the Deuteronomic prohibition does not extend to alliances with other powers. 46 See, e.g., R. A lbertz, A History of Religion in the Old Testament Period (2 vols.; OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1994); D. S. Vanderhooft, The Neo-Babylonian Empire and Babylon in the Latter Prophets (HSM 59; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1999). 47 In the depictions of the monarchs who succeed Jehoshaphat, the Chronistic strictures
Chapter Two: “Should You Help the Wicked and Love those who Hate Yhwh?”
49
the Chronistic treatment of them is clear and uniform. Unlike Kings, Chronicles denounces each league in similar terms, associating each pact with betrayal and divine retribution. The dismal outcome of each pact directly contradicts its intended effect.
i. The Joint Expedition of Ahab and Jehoshaphat to Ramoth-gilead Jehoshaphat’s reign inaugurates a new era in North-South relations. During the reigns of his predecessors Judah and Israel were often at war, but Jehoshaphat begins a pattern of collaboration with the northern kingdom, a pattern that continues in the reigns of his successors. Although both Kings and Chronicles mention this union of interests, Chronicles takes a much greater interest in conveying its negative effects upon Judah. The depiction of Jehoshaphat’s reign, like that of Asa, is much more extensive and complex than that of Kings.48 Most of the new material, such as Jehoshaphat’s judicial reform (2 Chr 19:4–11) and his defensive war against the southeastern coalition (2 Chr 20:1–30), reflect well on the Judahite monarch.49 However, the work relates two geo-political mishaps each of which involves his relations with Israel. In both instances, Chronicles includes incidents from Kings, but reinterprets their significance. First Kings 22:1–40 depicts an alliance between Jehoshaphat of Judah and Ahab of Israel. Chronicles frames this episode by reworking the Deuteronomistic introduction and by adding a conclusion in the form of a prophetic speech. Marriage Pact
—
2 Chr 18:1b
Military Treaty
1 Kgs 22:2–4
2 Chr 18:2–3
Micaiah’s Prophecy
1 Kgs 22:5–28
2 Chr 18:4–27
Joint Campaign
1 Kgs 22:29–33 2 Chr 18:28
Ahab’s Demise
1 Kgs 22:34–40 2 Chr 18:33–34
Jehoshaphat’s Return
—
2 Chr 19:1
Prophetic Rebuke
—
2 Chr 19:2–3
against alliances continue. Rather than pursuing an alternative, more independent course of action, Jehoshaphat’s successors – Jehoram and Ahaziah – intensify the pattern of close cooperation with northern Israel. The effects of this collaboration with and emulation of northern practices eventually threaten to topple the institutional pillars upon which the nation is built – the Davidic dynasty and the temple cult in Jerusalem. See S. J. De Vries, “The Schema of Dynastic Endangerment in Chronicles,” PEGLMBS 7 (1987): 59–78; Japhet, Chronicles, 804– 38; Klein, 2 Chronicles, 298–331. 48 G. N. K noppers, “Reform and Regression: The Chronicler’s Treatment of Jehoshaphat,” Bib 72 (1991): 500–24; K. Strübind, Tradition als Interpretation in der Chronik: König Josaphat als Paradigma chronistischer Hermeneutik und Theologie (BZAW 201; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1991). 49 Later comments about Jehoshaphat are also quite favorable (2 Chr 21:12; 22:9).
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Part One: Oppositions and Alliances
Whereas in Chronicles this affair occurs in the context of Jehoshaphat’s reign, in Kings this event takes place in Ahab’s reign against the larger background of Aramean-Israelite hostilities.50 The diplomatic terms confirming the treaty, “You and I are as one, your people and my people as well” (; כמוני כמוך וכעמך עמי 1 Kgs 22:4 || 2 Chr 18:3), are used both in client treaties and in parity treaties.51 The impression gained from 1 Kgs 22:3 is, however, that Ahab is the dominant power. Some have even surmised that Jehoshaphat’s journey to Samaria reflects a client treaty relationship.52 It is, after all, in the context of Ahab’s exhorting his “servants” that Ahab proposes this joint venture with Jehoshaphat (1 Kgs 22:3– 4).53 Consistent with the focus upon Ahab, the joint campaign ends with a detailed description of his ignoble death (1 Kgs 22:34–40). The recontextualization of the Israelite-Judahite coalition in Chronicles presents the campaign against Ramoth-gilead in a new light. Jehoshaphat begins well: consolidating his reign (2 Chr 17:1–2), enjoying peace and prosperity (vv. 5 –6), promoting torah (vv. 7–9), receiving tribute from his neighbors (vv. 10– 11), building fortresses (vv. 12–13a), and completing an impressive muster of Judah and Benjamin (vv. 13b–19). Like other highly lauded monarchs, Jehoshaphat enjoys international prestige. The Jehoshaphat who leagues himself with Ahab is, therefore, an independent, respected, and powerful monarch. Having described many exemplary features of Jehoshaphat’s tenure, the work depicts a major turning point: “he became related to Ahab by marriage” ( ויתחתן ;לאחאב2 Chr 18:1). The wedlock most likely involved Jehoshaphat’s son, Jehoram 50 Chronicles presents almost four full chapters on Jehoshaphat’s reign before it includes the Deuteronomistic formulaic introduction and evaluation of Jehoshaphat’s reign. In so doing he slavishly follows his Vorlage, even though in 1 K ings 22 the joint venture to Ramoth-gilead falls outside of Jehoshaphat’s reign proper (1 Kgs 22:41–51). The accession formulae for Ahab (1 Kgs 16:29), Jehoshaphat (1 Kgs 22:41), and Ahaziah of Israel (1 Kgs 22:51) are anomalous; see J. D. Shenkel, Chronology and Recensional Development in the Greek Text of Kings (HSM 1; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1968), 73–86; J. C. Trebolle Barrera, Jehú y Joás: texto y composición literaria de 2 Reyes 9–11 (Institución San Jerónimo 17; Valencia: Institución San Jerónimo, 1984); idem, Centena in libros Samuelis et Regum: variants textuales y composición literaria en los libros de Samuel y Reyes (Textos y estudios “Cardenal Cisneros” 47; Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas Instituto de Filología, 1989). On the Chronistic reuse of the Deuteronomistic formulae, see my “Reform and Regression: the Chronicler’s Presentation of Jehoshaphat,” Bib 72 (1991): 502–19. 51 RS 17.340, 1 Kgs 20:4, and 1 Chr 12:18–19 (vassal treaties); cf. RS 18.54 and Gen 34:15–22 (parity treaties). 52 J. Gray, I & II Kings (2nd ed.; OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1970), 448–49; E. Würthwein, Die Bücher der Könige: 1. Kön. 17–2. Kön. 25 (ATD 11/2; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1984), 255–56; M. Cogan, I Kings (AB 10; New York: Doubleday, 2000), 420–98. Based on ancient Near Eastern precedent, it is clear that a client relationship could exist without the existence of a formal diplomatic treaty, R. Westbrook, “International Law in the Amarna Age,” in Amarna Diplomacy: The Beginnings of International Relations (ed. R. Cohen and R. Westbrook; Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2000), 40. 53 The phrase is not found in Chronicles. The term עבד, “servant” (and its cognates) is, of course, ubiquitous as a designation for a vassal in the ancient Near East.
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and Ahab’s daughter, Athaliah (2 Chr 21:6; 22:2). The implications of this action only appear during the course of Jehoram and Ahaziah’s reigns, but it is significant that the text already mentions the action here as a royal initiative.54 Marriages between different royal houses in the ancient Near East were important on a number of levels not least because they “served to reinforce the political relationship, to assure the unwavering loyalty of the other.”55 The literary setting of the story renders, however, such a maneuver superfluous. Jehoshaphat is a distinguished king, who governs a sovereign, militarily secure, and thriving land. Enjoying such blessings, he has no compelling reason to commit his descendants to a long range dynastic relationship with Ahab’s house. Another detail not found in Kings is a lavish feast given by Ahab on behalf of Jehoshaphat at Samaria (2 Chr 18:2). It is within this genial setting that Ahab incites ( )ויסיתהוhis Judahite counterpart to accompany him on the campaign against Ramoth-gilead (2 Chr 18:2b).56 Jehoshaphat is duped. The literary shaping of Jehoshaphat’s reign accentuates both his involvement with Ahab and his culpability for the events that follow. The campaign against Ramoth-gilead largely recalls the account in 1 K ings 22, but there are a few significant variations. First, consistent with its focus upon Judah, Chronicles omits much of the narration of Ahab’s demise. Second, “Jehoshaphat cries out” ( )ויזעק יהושפטwhen he is about to be attacked in battle (2 Chr 18:31). Accordingly, Yhwh helped him ( )עזרוand God lured the enemy forces away from him ()ויסיתם אלהים ממנו.57 Third, the description of Jehoshaphat’s return to Jerusalem, “and he returned … safely to his home” ( ; וישב … אל־ביתו בשלום2 Chr 19:1), resonates with the prophecy of Micaiah in his Vorlage. In this vision Yhwh responds mercifully to Micaiah’s depiction of Israel being “scattered over the hills, like sheep without a shepherd” (1 Kgs 22:17 || 2 Chr 18:16) by declaring, “These have no master; let everyone return to his home in safety” ( ;ישובו איש־לביתו בשלום1 Kgs 22:17 || 2 Chr 18:16). The content of Micaiah’s vision explains, therefore, Jehoshaphat’s survival (2 Chr 18:31–19:1), an issue that goes unaddressed in Kings. That the pact is itself at issue is confirmed by the prophetic rebuke that awaits the vanquished ruler. 54 In contrast, the Deuteronomistic writing does not mention this marriage alliance until the reign of Jehoram (2 Kgs 8:18). Willi (Auslegung, 144) observes that Chronicles’ mention of Jehoshaphat’s marriage alliance elucidates Jehoshaphat’s visit to Samaria, an event that goes unexplained in Kings. On the literary contextualization of this material, see further my “Reform and Regression,” 510–13, 518–19. 55 Kalluveetil, Declaration and Covenant, 80. 56 The hipʿil of סיתseems to be used here in the sense of enticement into apostasy. See Deut 13:6; 1 Kgs 21:25; 1 Chr 21:1, and the analysis of P. R. Ackroyd, I and II Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah (TBC; London: SCM, 1973), 144. 57 I read with the MT in 2 Chr 18:31 ()ויסיתם, rather than with the LXX (καὶ ἀπέστρεψεν αὐτοὺς = )ויסירם. The text puns on the deity luring ( )סיתJehoshaphat away from danger after Ahab had lured ( )סיתJehoshaphat on an ill-conceived military campaign (2 Chr 18:2).
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Should you help58 the wicked59 and love those who hate Yhwh? On account of this, Yhwh’s wrath is upon you. 60 Nevertheless, some good has been found in you, because you incinerated the asherahs from the land61 and you have set your heart on seeking God. (2 Chr 19:2b–3)
Jehu’s succinct message exhibits traits of a classic judgment oracle, containing both an accusation (in the form of a question) and a declaration of punishment (“Yhwh’s wrath is upon you”). 62 It contains a common feature of Chronistic theology as well: the tempering of divine punishment due to repentance or good works. 63 The formulaic language employed in this oracle (“to help the wicked,” “to love those who hate Yhwh”) recalls similar diplomatic language in other international contexts. 64 Jehoshaphat’s ties to and support of Ahab earn him a stern rebuke. The lack of commentary upon the joint military venture between Ahab and Jehoshaphat in Kings is consistent with the canons of Deuteronomistic historiography. Blaming the secession of Israel on Solomon, the work presents the creation of distinct Israelite and Judahite states as divinely ordained (1 Kgs 11:1– 13, 26–39; 12:15).65 Characterizing both Israel and Judah as divinely sanctioned polities, the work does not pass judgment on either nation for establishing commercial, military, or diplomatic links with the other. The methodical rewriting of Jehoshaphat’s alliance with Ahab in Chronicles comports with themes stressed in King Abijah’s seminal speech to King Jeroboam and all Israel (2 Chr 13:4–12). In the context of a holy civil war fought against “Jeroboam and all Is-
58 Instead of the infinitive עזרthe LXX reads the 2 masc. sg. תעזרas consistent with תאהב later in the verse. We read with the MT as the lectio difficilior. On the construction, see GKC, §114r. 59 I follow the MT. T he LXX reads singulars for both רׁשעand ׂשנאי. Lucifer of Cagliari reads: et eorum qui oderunt Domicum amicus es. The MT need not be seen as inconsistent, because רׁשעcan be used as a collective (e.g., Ps 9:6, 17; 10:2; Isa 11:4). Since Ahab is obviously the person in view, the impetus would be to level a perceived inconsistency between the pl. and the sg. to the sg. 60 So the MT. T he LXX adds explicating ἐγένετο. 61 I read with the MT (lectio brevior). The LXX adds Ἰούδα, an expansion of specification. 62 C. Westermann, Basic Forms of Prophetic Speech (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1967) 163– 68. 63 R. L. Braun, 1 Chronicles (WBC 14; Waco: Word, 1986), xxxix–xl; Japhet, Ideology, 176– 91; B. E. Kelly, Retribution and Eschatology in Chronicles (JSOTSup 211; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1996), 104–20; idem, “‘Retribution’ Revisited: Covenant, Grace, and Restoration,” in The Chronicler as Theologian: Essays in Honor of Ralph W. Klein (ed. M. P. Graham, S. L. McKenzie, and G. N. K noppers; JSOTSup 371; London: T. & T. Clark Continuum, 2003), 206–27. 64 W. L. Moran, “The Ancient Near Eastern Background to the Love of God in Deuteronomy,” CBQ 25 (1963): 77–87; J. A. T hompson, “Israel’s Lovers,” VT 27 (1977): 475–81; idem, “Israel’s Haters,” VT 29 (1979): 200–5; S. Ackerman, “The Personal is Political: Covenantal and Affectionate Love (ʾāhēb, ʾahăbâ) in the Hebrew Bible,” VT 52 (2002): 437–58. 65 Knoppers, Two Nations Under God, 1.135–223.
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rael,” Abijah proclaims that both the kingship and cult of Israel are retrograde. 66 Unlike Kings, Chronicles places most of the blame for northern Israel’s independence on rebellious Jeroboam and his cohorts. Rehoboam and his advisors also bear some responsibility, because they act foolishly in responding to northern demands. Nevertheless, the main onus for disunion lies with northern Israel. The Chronistic evaluation of Jehoshaphat’s relations with Israel is, therefore, consistent with the charges Abijah levels at the northern regime. The decline in Jehoshaphat’s fortunes is traced to his strategic decision “to help the wicked” ()לעזר לרשע. Coalitions with Ephraim have become, in and of themselves, an issue. Since neither the cult nor the kingship of the northern kingdom enjoys divine sanction, it would be inappropriate for the Judahite monarch to “love those who hate Yhwh” ()לשׂנאי יהוה תאהב. To enter into a pact with Israel would violate the norms of Judah’s own relationship with Yhwh. The allegiance demanded by God is and must remain exclusive.
ii. A Joint Naval Alliance between Jehoshaphat and Ahaziah One other pact is mentioned in the presentation of Jehoshaphat’s tenure: a maritime alliance (2 Chr 20:35–37). Again, this league marks a regression in Jehoshaphat’s rule and again the context in Chronicles diverges substantially from that of Kings. 67 Aside from the joint venture narrated in 1 K ings 22, the presentation of Jehoshaphat’s reign in Kings consists of a paratactic list of sundry activities, including an abortive attempt by Jehoshaphat to have ship(s) built to obtain gold (1 Kgs 22:49). 68 The plan fails when the fleet is wrecked at Ezion-geber. Ahaziah the king of Israel then offers a maritime alliance, which is turned down by Jehoshaphat (1 Kgs 22:50). There is no editorial comment upon this sequence in Kings. 69 The context for Jehoshaphat’s shipbuilding venture diverges markedly in Chronicles. After the fiasco with Ahab, Jehoshaphat recovers and embarks on two praiseworthy measures. First, he initiates a major judicial reform from 66 G. N. K noppers, “Rehoboam in Chronicles: Villain or Victim?” JBL 109 (1990): 423– 440; idem, “‘Battling Against Yahweh’: Israel’s War against Judah in 2 Chr 13:2–20,” RB 100 (1993): 511–32. For a different view, see E. Ben Zvi, “The Secession of the Northern Kingdom in Chronicles: Accepted ‘Facts’ and New Meanings,” in The Chronicler as Theologian: Essays in Honour of Ralph W. K lein (ed. M. P. Graham, S. L. McKenzie, and G. N. K noppers; JSOTSup 371; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 2003), 61–88. 67 The divergent witnesses to this event in Kings (3 Rgns 16:28c–g || 1 Kgs 22:45–51) need not be pursued in detail, because they do not materially affect our understanding of Chronicles’ reshaping of its Vorlage. 68 3 Reigns 16:28f has the sg.; however, its Vorlage could have read the collective אני תרׁשיׁש, as in 1 Kgs 10:22. The form אניותis the nomen unitatis of אני. Perhaps confusion arose because the pl. אניותalso occurs. The MT of both 1 Kgs 22:49 and 2 Chr 20:37 read אניות. 69 Würthwein, Könige, 263–65; R. H. Lowery, The Reforming Kings: Cult and Society in First Temple Judah (JSOTSup 120; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991), 99–105.
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Beer-sheba to the highlands of Ephraim (2 Chr 19:4b–11). Second, he demonstrates tremendous courage in responding to a national crisis. When confronted with an invasion by a coalition of Moabites, Ammonites, and the inhabitants of Mt. Seir, Jehoshaphat appeals to Yhwh, who sends the enemy into a such a panic that they all slaughter each other.70 In spite of this miraculous triumph over Judah’s southeastern neighbors, the king’s next major action is to ratify a treaty with an Israelite monarch. The political strategy partially resembles the pattern of the earlier compact with Ahab. Having experienced great success, the Judahite monarch embarks on a new maritime venture with his northern counterpart. 71 Alliance with Ahab
1 Kgs 22:2–40
2 Chr 18:1–19:1
Prophetic Rebuke
—
2 Chr 19:2–3
Judicial Reforms
—
2 Chr 19:4–11
Victory vs. Coalition
—
2 Chr 20:1–30
Introductory Notices
1 Kgs 22:41–44 2 Chr 20:31–33
Joint Venture with Ahaziah
1 Kgs 22:45
[2 Chr 20:35]
Concluding Notice
1 Kgs 22:46
[2 Chr 20:34]
Reforms
1 Kgs 22:47
—
1 Kgs 22:48
—
Shipbuilding Alliance
—
2 Chr 20:36
Prophetic Reprimand
—
2 Chr 20:37
Shipwreck
1 Kgs 22:49
2 Chr 20:37
Offer Refused
1 Kgs 22:50
—
Regent in Edom
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Chronicles generates a substantially different presentation from that of Kings by omitting certain details, rearranging notices, changing content, and adding new material. Placing the treaty with the Israelite king mentioned in 1 Kgs 22:45 at the beginning of his narrative (2 Chr 20:35) formally links this covenant with the naval undertaking that follows.72 The text not only asserts that Jehoshaphat 70 G. N. Knoppers, “Jerusalem at War in Chronicles,” in Zion, City of Our God (ed. R. S. Hess and G. J. Wenham; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 57–76. 71 I read באדוםwith the MT and the LXX A ; 3 Rgns 16:28e reads ἐν Συρίᾳ (= )בארם, reflecting a dālet/rêš confusion. 72 The interpretive strategy is an instance of sěmûkîn, whereby one statement is understood in light of another in close proximity, M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon, 1985), 399–403; I. Kalimi, Zur Geschichtsschreibung des Chronisten: Literarisch-historiographische Abweichungen der Chronik von ihren Paralleltexten in den Samuel- und Königsbüchern (BZAW 226; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1995), 18–34.
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initiated a nautical alliance with Ahaziah of Israel to build ships to travel to Tarshish, but also unambiguously criticizes Jehoshaphat for taking this action, “he did evil in so doing” ( ; הוא הרשיע לעשׂות2 Chr 20:35).73 As with the earlier agreement with Ahab, the context presents Jehoshaphat’s bond with Ahaziah in a bad light. Having effectively reformed his nation’s judiciary and witnessed a tremendous divine intervention on behalf of his people, Jehoshaphat need not pursue an alliance with anyone. Again, Jehoshaphat finds himself reproached by a seer, a prophet named Eliezer: “Because you allied yourself with Ahaziah ()כהתחברך עם־אחזיהו, Yhwh has broken up your work” ( ;פרץ יהוה את־מעשׂיך2 Chr 20:37). Neither the offer of assistance by Ahaziah nor its decline by Jehoshaphat is an issue in Kings, but the strong condemnation of Jehoshaphat’s actions is unequivocal in Chronicles. The partnership itself occasions the prophetic indictment. It would seem that alliances are ipso facto unholy. Whereas in Kings the maritime catastrophe provides the setting for Ahaziah’s offer of a joint naval alliance, in Chronicles the maritime catastrophe effects the deity’s punishment of the naval alliance (2 Chr 20:37).
iii. Warriors for Hire: Amaziah and the Israelite Mercenaries The final instance of formal collaboration between North and South occurs in an unparalleled story relating to Amaziah’s reign. Unlike the case with previous alliances, there is no mention of a northern royal house. Of the four events in Amaziah’s reign mentioned in Kings – his vengeance upon those officials who had murdered his father, his defeat of the Edomites in the Salt Valley, his war with King Jehoash of Israel, and the conspiracy against Amaziah resulting in his death – the war with Israel easily receives the most attention (2 Kgs 14:8– 14).74 Chronicles considerably expands the coverage devoted to Amaziah and divides his reign into two distinct parts.75 In the first half of his tenure, Amaziah proves obedient to the prophetic word and enjoys success (2 Chr 25:1–13), while in the second half Amaziah engages in idolatry and suffers defeat (2 Chr 25:14–28). Only the first period in Amaziah’s reign is of relevance to our study.
73 Strübind,
Introductory Notices
2 Kgs 14:1–4
2 Chr 25:1–2
Vengeance
2 Kgs 14:5–6
2 Chr 25:3–4
Muster
—
2 Chr 25:5
Tradition als Interpretation, 176–88. receives a positive but qualified review both in Kings (2 Kgs 14:3–4) and in Chronicles (2 Chr 25:2; cf. 26:4). 75 2 Kgs 14:1–20 (20 verses); cf. 2 Chr 25:1–28 (28 verses). On the propensity of monarchs to do well before falling into divine disfavor, see J. Jarick, 2 Chronicles (Readings; Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2007). 74 Amaziah
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Mercenaries Hired
—
2 Chr 25:6
Prophetic Rebuke
—
2 Chr 25:7–9
Mercenaries Disbanded —
2 Chr 25:10
Victory over Edom
2 Kgs 14:7
2 Chr 25:11–12
Mercenaries’ Raids
—
2 Chr 25:13
Unlike Kings, Chronicles makes the Edomite excursion a major point of interest in its own right by prefacing an account of Amaziah’s military preparations.76 A muster reveals that the king has “300,000 picked men fit for war, capable of handling lance and shield” (2 Chr 25:5).77 The motivation for the king’s desire to hire an additional 100,000 warriors from Israel is unclear. At first glance, it may appear that Amaziah commands a huge army, but compared with other military censuses in Chronicles his muster is not large.78 Hence, the point may have to do with reinforcements. In any event, actual numbers have little to do with victory or defeat. If anything, the size of Judah’s armies in victories (e.g., 2 Chr 13:13–21; 14:7–14) bears an inverse relationship to the size of those involved in defeat (e.g., 2 Chr 24:23–24; 28:6; 32:8)! When Amaziah implements his plan, he receives a reprimand from an anonymous man of God. O king, let not the army of Israel march with you, because Yhwh is not with Israel, [with] any of the descendants of Ephraim. Indeed, if79 you80 are going to march with 76 M. P. Graham, “Aspects of the Structure and Rhetoric of 2 Chronicles 25,” in History and Interpretation: Essays in Honor of John H. Hayes (JSOTSup 173; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993), 78–89; E. Ben Zvi, “A House of Treasures: The Account of Amaziah in 2 Chronicles 25—Observations and Implications,” SJOT 22 (2008): 63–85. 77 The use of fantastically large round numbers is typical of the Chronistic Sondergut, Knoppers I Chronicles 10–29, 569–71. 78 The number of his troops is less than that assembled by Abijah (2 Chr 13:3), Asa (2 Chr 14:8) and Jehoshaphat (2 Chr 17:14–19). The number of forces opposing Amaziah is not given. 79 As generally conceded, the MT of 2 Chr 25:8 is corrupt. The function of ( כי אםLXX ὅτι ἐὰν) is a crux interpretum. The particle כיwith pleonastic אםcan have an adversative function after a negative; see v. 7 and the discussions of R. J. Williams, Hebrew Syntax (2nd ed.; Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1976), §555 and B. K. Waltke and M. O’Connor, An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1990), §39.3.5d, but this usage is unattested in Chronicles (A. K ropat, Die Syntax des Autors der Chronik Vergleichen mit der seiner Quellen: Ein Beitrag zur historischen Syntax des Hebräischen [BZAW 16; Giessen: Töpelmann, 1909], 31) and would be awkward in context. Exceptive or limitative clauses can also be introduced by ( כי אםWilliams, Hebrew Syntax, §556); however, in light of v. 7 this would be syntactically quite difficult. Finally, the particle ( כיoccasionally occurring with pleonastic )אםcan be used in an asseverative sense (Waltke and O’Connor, Biblical Hebrew Syntax, §39.3.1d; Williams, Hebrew Syntax, §449). Following the declaration of v. 7, an asseverative function of כיat the beginning of v. 8 seems to be the most likely possibility. The particle אם, then, introduces either a real condition (Williams, Hebrew Syntax §515) or a concessive clause, “even though you are going to march with these …,” (Joüon, Grammaire de l’hébreu biblique, §164b). 80 The LXX reads ὑπολάβῃς, “you presume,” for the MT’s בא אתה, while Lucifer has te existimaueris. The Vorlage of the LXX is unclear. If a form of the verb בואoccurred in the LXX’s
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these81 to be strong for battle,82 God83 will cast you down84 before your enemies,85 for God has the power to help or to cast down. (2 Chr 25:7–8)
The reproof echoes other denunciations of international coalitions. The dec laration: “Yhwh is not with Israel ()אין יהוה עם־ישראל, [with] any of the descendants of Ephraim” ()כל בני אפרים, recalls the seminal speech of King Abijah to King Jeroboam and “all Israel” at Mt. Zemaraim (2 Chr 13:4–12). There, Abijah repeatedly compares the Israelites who have the golden calves and “no-gods” ( )לא אלהיםwith them and the Judahites who have Yhwh with them (2 Chr 13:8– 12). The condemnation of Amaziah’s actions is, therefore, not an exception to the Chronistic posture taken toward the North, but a restatement of the position consistently maintained earlier in the work. Unlike Kings, Chronicles portrays both the cult and the kingship of the northern kingdom as illegitimate. Every alliance with Israel is treated as if it were an act of infidelity. The terms of the strident condemnation reveal, however, a profound paradox. The very denunciation reinforces the longstanding kinship of those forces with the people of Judah. Indeed, the man of God privileges the status of the Ephraimites by calling them by the historic name Israel, the traditional appellation of the northern tribes, the northern kingdom, and the descendants of Jacob. Vorlage, a haplography of the ʾālep in בא אתהmay have triggered its variant reading (= )?באתה. Alternatively, L. A llen suggests that the Vorlage of the LXX (mistakenly) read אתעשׁת, The Greek Chronicles: The Relation of the Septuagint of I and II Chronicles to the Masoretic Text (2 vols.; VTSup 25, 27; Leiden: Brill, 1974), 2.78, 115. 81 The LXX reads ἐν τούτοις (= באלהor )?בםwhile be and Theodotion conflate the two 2 readings. Unless the LXX’s κατισχῦσαι represents the MT’s חזק למלחמה, which is unlikely (see following n.), it is difficult to determine the older reading. Allen (Greek Chronicles, 2:85) contends that באwas construed as an abbreviation of באלה. While this is a theoretical possi bility, what is the precedent for such a phenomenon? It may be possible that if 2 Chr 25:8 read * כי אם בא אתה באלה חזק למלחמה, then, באלה, could have been lost to the MT by haplography (homoioarkton). I interpret באas a participle used in the protasis of a real condition to express imminent or future time (GKC, §159v; Williams, Hebrew Syntax, §515). With the LXX (κατισχῦσαι) I read חזקas an infinitive. With the MT I retain ( למלחמהcf. החזק מלחמהin MT 2 Sam 11:25). 82 The LXX simply reads the infinitive κατισχῦσαι for the MT’s imperatives עׂשה חזק. Lucifer reads praeualere, while the Vg has putas in robore exercitus bella consistere, i.e., תאמר בזאת אחזק למלחמה. The verb κατισχύω most often represents a form of ( חזקqal, piʿel, or hitpaʿel) and occasionally ( עזרHatch and Redpath, Concordance, 751). Hence, the LXX lacks an equivalent to עׂשה. The occurrence together of the imperatives of עׂשהand חזקis quite common in formulae of encouragement prior to a difficult challenge, such as an impending battle (e.g., 1 Chr 28:10, 20; 2 Chr 19:11; Ezra 10:4; Hag 2:4). The MT’s lemma may reflect a secondary assimilation toward the standard idiom. Read עׂשהwith the LXX (lectio brevior). 83 The LXX twice reads the Tetragrammaton in this verse where the MT has אלהים. The variation between יהוהand אלהיםis common in the Hebrew and Greek witnesses to Chronicles. 84 I follow the LXX AB in reading a wāw before ( יכׁשילךlectio facilior). A resumptive wāw usually introduces the apodosis in real conditions (Williams, Hebrew Syntax, §511). 85 Reading with the LXX L , the Syriac, and the Arabic. As Rudolph suggests (Chronikbücher, 278), the MT and the LXX AB may have lost the suffix יך-through haplography after אויביךand before כי.
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Like many other Second Temple writings, Chronicles sometimes employs the designation Israel for Judah itself (or for Judah and Benjamin). By employing the title Israel as shorthand for the kingdom of Judah, the tribes of Judah and Benjamin, or the broader people of Israel, centered in Jerusalem and its foundational institutions (the temple, the Aaronic priesthood, and the Davidic dynasty), Chronicles underscores the pivotal status of Judah to the historically larger kinship group of which Ephraim is also an intrinsic part. In calling the Ephraimites Israel, the man of God underscores their links to the eponymous ancestor they share with their southern kin. Yet, when it comes to formal alliances, the leadership of Israel is not to be trusted. Not becoming involved in a dependent relationship with the northern kingdom means that Judah will be relying upon God alone (e.g., 2 Chr 13:13–21; 14:7–14; 20:1–30; 32:1–23). 86 In the divine economy, treaties are inherently pointless. This is precisely the point the man of God makes when he responds to Amaziah’s reluctance to depart with the hundred thousand talents he paid his mercenaries, “Yhwh is able to give you much more than this” (יש ליהוה לתת לך ;הרבה מזה2 Chr 25:9). Ensuing events largely validate the advice, but with significant complications.87 After releasing the Israelite mercenaries, Amaziah journeys to the Valley of Salt and enjoys a great victory (2 Chr 25:11–12). Yet, the northern mercenaries, after being dismissed by Amaziah, proceed to raid a number of towns north of Jerusalem, “from Samaria and as far as Beth-horon,” killing 3,000 inhabitants and seizing much booty (2 Chr 25:13).88 One could argue that the prophetic intervention averted an even larger catastrophe for the Judah; but, whatever the case, the incident demonstrates that the very actions of hiring and summarily dismissing such a mercenary force resulted in their own set of unintended consequences. One result of Amaziah’s actions is collateral damage to his own domain. Marching south to deal with the threat posed by the invading Edomite force, the Judahite monarch leaves his northern flank exposed to the mischief caused by the very northern soldiers he dismissed. 86 On this matter, see L. C. Jonker, “The Chronicler’s Portrayal of Solomon as the King of Peace within the Context of the International Peace Discourses of the Persian Era,” OTE 21 (2008): 653–69. 87 Pace Japhet (Chronicles, 858), the issue of whether the king will receive some sort of monetary compensation for dispatching these mercenaries is beside the point. Since the oracle stresses divine beneficence, Amaziah’s strategy of hiring Israelite mercenaries is unnecessary. 88 The formulation “from Samaria to Beth Horon” presupposes that Beth Horon, historically an Ephraimite site, had become part of Judah (2 Chr 13:18–19; 15:8–9; 17:2). Williamson (Chronicles, 327–30), followed by Klein (2 Chronicles, 358–59), contends that the basis of the story contained in vv. 6 and 13 stems from a separate source that the Chronicler has integrated, not altogether successfully, into his own narrative. While I would not deny the employment of a non-biblical source in the inclusion of this material within the Amaziah narrative, I view it as serving a deliberate function in the narrative. The writer could have excised portions of the source, should he have determined that their contents did not align with his compositional goals.
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iv. Review: Alliances with the Northern Kingdom The finding that the treatment of international treaties falls into repeated patterns complements the research that other scholars have carried out in discerning various topoi in this literary work. For example, Welten discusses in considerable detail the topoi of war reports, descriptions of military techniques, and records of military fortifications.89 To take a second example, Mosis contends that the Chronistic portrayal of the chaos attending Saul’s demise is indicative in its vocabulary and imagery of an exilic predicament that reappears throughout monarchic history.90 Through the deployment of such topoi, the work structures and unifies history.91 The portrayal of alliances also constitute one of the Chronistic topoi. In this literary conceit, history takes on a paradigmatic cast, offering readers lessons to be drawn from the past. To be sure, given the polemic in certain earlier biblical traditions against forging alliances with surrounding nations, it is not surprising that Chronicles dis89 P. Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung in den Chronikbüchern (Neukirchen: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973). 90 R. Mosis, Untersuchungen zur Theologie des chronistischen Geschichtswerkes (FTS 92; Freiburg: Herder, 1973), 17–43. I must demur, however, from Mosis’ related contention that David and Solomon form two paradigms (restoration and eschatological bliss respectively). The theme of peace as an eschatological motif is also represented in the detailed study of I. Gabriel, Friede über Israel: Eine Untersuchung zur Friedenstheologie im Chronik I 10–II 36 (OBS 10; Klosterneuberg: OKB, 1990) and the link between repentance and divine blessing is stressed by Kelly, Retribution and Eschatology in Chronicles. But Japhet forcefully argues that the work lacks a clearly defined eschatological dimension, Ideology, 493–504; eadem, “Exile and Restoration in the Book of Chronicles,” in The Crisis of Israelite Religion: Transformation of Religious Tradition in Exilic and Post-Exilic Times (ed. B. Becking, M. Korpel; OtSt 42; Leiden: Brill, 1999), 33–44. Rather than functioning as a paradigm of eschatological happiness, the Solomonic era might be better categorized as a utopian age or as an alternative reality. On this, see S. J. Schweitzer, Reading Utopia in Chronicles (LHBOTS 442; London: T. & T. Clark International, 2007); Jonker, “Solomon as the King of Peace,” 653–69; E. Ben Zvi, “Reading and Constructing Utopias: Utopia/s and/in the Collection of Authoritative Texts/ Textual Readings of Late Persian Period Yehud,” SR 42 (2013): 463–76. 91 On the literary and theological aspects of Chronistic historiography, see M. Z. Brettler, The Creation of History in Ancient Israel (London: Routledge, 1995), 112–34; Kalimi, Geschichtsschreibung des Chronisten; idem, The Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History in Chronicles (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005); E. Ben Zvi, “Malleability and its Limits: Sennacherib’s Campaign Against Judah as a Case Study,” in ‘Bird in a Cage’: The Invasion of Sennacherib in 701 BCE (ed. L. L. Grabbe; JSOTSup 363; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press/ Continuum, 2003) 73–105; idem, History, Literature and Theology in the Book of Chronicles (London: Equinox, 2006); L. C. Jonker, Reflections of King Josiah in Chronicles: Late Stages of the Josiah Reception in II Chr. 34f. (Textpragmatische Studien zur Literatur- und Kulturgeschichte der Hebräischen Bibel 2; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 2003); idem, Texts, Contexts and Readings in Postexilic Literature: Explorations into Historiography and Identity Negotiation in Hebrew Bible and Related Texts (FAT 106; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011); and the essays in The Chronicler as Historian (ed. M. P. Graham, S. L. McKenzie, and K. Hoglund; JSOTSup 238; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997) and in Chronicling the Chronicler: The Book of Chronicles and Early Second Temple Historiography (ed. P. S. Evans and T. F. Williams; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2013).
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parages kings who form compacts with Judah’s neighbors. Such treaties violate the exclusive loyalty to the deity demanded of the people. But that the work also inveighs against any type of alliance with the northern kingdom is extraordinary. During the dual monarchies, collaboration with northern Israel takes many forms, yet the writing criticizes them all. The strictures are not confined to the reign of any particular king or dynasty. For Judah to enter into a co-dependent relationship with a tribe or group of tribes embracing idolatry entails transgressing the norms of its relationship with Yhwh. Even though the Ephraimites remain bona-fide Israelites, Judah is to avoid pursuing covenants with them. The Chronistic treatment of alliances with northern Israel is, therefore, strikingly similar to the Chronistic treatment of alliances with foreign nations. They belong to the same broad topos. Each pact is associated with failure, prophetic condemnation, and divine retribution.
III. The Era of Foreign Subjugation: Neo-Babylonian and Achaemenid Imperial Rule We have been discussing how Chronicles rewrites Judahite royal history to demonstrate the illegitimacy and inefficacy of forming international compacts – whether martial, dynastic, or commercial – with neighboring states, including the northern kingdom. Yet determining that the work consistently counsels against becoming entangled in external alliances leaves a number of questions unanswered. If entering international treaties is tantamount to “helping the wicked and loving those who hate Yhwh” (2 Chr 19:2), is the work fundamentally xenophobic? If the prophets repeatedly warn of the consequences of leaguing with foreigners, what are the people expected to do, if they are ever forcibly subjugated by their adversaries? Given the animus toward collaborating with others, are Judahite subjects of foreign rulers supposed to resist, even agitate against, foreign occupation? An additional question is relevant, granted that the authors of Chronicles, like other biblical authors, assume that both humans and the divine are active in history. What happens if the people of Judah find themselves subject to foreign rule, because their own deity imposed such an outcome upon his people? In this scenario, the contact with foreigners and the necessity of dealing with them in an orderly way would seem to be necessary outcomes of their own patron deity’s actions. In this section, I would like to suggest that Chronicles ultimately does not present a simplistic perspective either in dealing with foreigners or in dealing with diplomatic policy under foreign rule.
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To address the question of xenophobia, the work casts foreigners in a wide variety of poses.92 The writing is perfectly capable of portraying certain foreign leaders, such as Huram of Tyre (2 Chr 2:3–16; 8:1–2, 18; 9:10–11) and the Queen of Sheba (2 Chr 9:1–9), in a favorable light. Both appear as righteous others, who embrace some Israelite beliefs, acknowledge the sovereignty of the God of Israel, and perform constructive actions on behalf of the Israelite people.93 Rather than someone who “hates Yhwh,” Huram enthusiastically blesses Yhwh as the God, “who created the heavens and the earth” (2 Chr 2:11) and studiously contributes a greater range of tabernacle materials than Solomon himself requested for the temple project.94 In short, Solomon works perfectly well with these potentates. That Chronicles does not always cast foreigners negatively can also be seen from its treatment of mixed marriages. The writing does not inveigh against intermarriage in the manner some biblical writings (e.g., Deuteronomy, EzraNehemiah) do. Several texts mention exogamy without any condemnation.95 Indeed, the lineages of Judah (1 Chr 2:3–4:23) document the roles marital relations with Canaanites, Ishmaelites, Geshurites, Egyptians, and Moabites play in the ethnogenesis of the larger tribe.96 Judahite links with the Qenites, Qenizzites, and Edomites are intimated. These examples, as well as others that could be adduced, suggest that aliens neither dominate the work nor always appear as Judahite foes. In spite of the strictures against foreign alliances, the Chronistic treatment of the “Other” is, therefore, hardly uni-dimensional or invariably antagonistic.97
92 A. Siedlecki, “Foreigners, Warfare and Judahite Identity in Chronicles,” in The Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and Texture (ed. M. P. Graham and S. L. McKenzie; JSOTSup 263; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), 229–66. 93 E. Ben Zvi, “When the Foreign Monarch Speaks,” in The Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and Texture (ed. M. P. Graham and S. L. McKenzie; JSOTSup 263; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), 209–28. 94 G. N. K noppers, “When the Foreign Monarch Speaks about the Israelite Tabernacle,” in History, Memory, Hebrew Scriptures: A Festschrift for Ehud Ben Zvi (ed. I. D. Wilson and D. V. Edelman; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2015), 49–63. 95 Williamson, Israel, 60–61; Knoppers, I Chronicles 1–9, 295–375. 96 G. N. K noppers, “Intermarriage, Social Complexity, and Ethnic Diversity in the Genealogy of Judah,” JBL 120 (2001): 15–30; idem, “‘Married into Moab’: The Exogamy Practiced by Judah and his Descendants in the Judahite Lineages,” in Mixed Marriages: Intermarriage and Group Identity in the Second Temple Period (ed. C. Frevel; LHBOTS 547; London: Continuum, 2011), 170–191. 97 C. Mitchell, “Otherness and Historiography in Chronicles,” in Historiography and Identity (Re)formulation (ed. L.C. Jonker; LHBOTS 534; New York: T. & T. Clark, 2010), 93–112.
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i. Is Neco among the Prophets? In the case of Pharaoh Neco of Egypt, Chronicles turns this king into a temporary mouthpiece of God (2 Chr 35:20–22). The story about Neco and Josiah, as a number of commentators have pointed out, differs markedly from the enigmatic version found in Kings.98 As Neco makes his way to Carchemish by the Euphrates, he admonishes a belligerent Josiah: “What is it with me (that has to do) with you, O King of Judah? It is not against you, you (that I march) this day, but against the house battling me. God told me to hurry ()ואלהים אמר לבהלני. Hold yourself back from God, who is with me ( )חדל לך מאלהים אשר עמי so that he might not annihilate you” ( ; אל־ישחיטך2 Chr 35:20–21).
In this extraordinary message, the Egyptian monarch scolds his would-be foe and speaks of the deity directing him forward with haste.99 The imperial communication contains a number of speech elements often found in prophetic speeches – a direct address, a version of the divine assistance formula (“God, who is with me”), and a threat (“lest he annihilate you”).100 In this instance, then, a foreign potentate plays the ironic role of a prophetic persona, warning the ambitious Judahite monarch against entering an unnecessary and potentially calamitous foreign entanglement. The examples of Huram, the Queen of Sheba, and Pharaoh Neco indicate, then, that the strictures against foreign coalitions do not stem from an inherent hatred of foreigners. Quite the contrary, non-Israelites can and do play positive roles in the divine economy. The opposition to diplomatic covenants cannot be attributed simply to an aversion to foreigners.
ii. Zedekiah’s Oath As for the question of foreign subjection, there are two important cases that complicate the issue of international agreements and foreign diplomacy: the reign of Zedekiah, Judah’s last Davidic king, and the reign of Cyrus the Great, 98 There are related textual issues in determining the nature and extent of the authors’ Vorlage (cf. 1 Esd 1:23–31), S. L. McKenzie, The Chronicler’s Use of the Deuteronomistic History (HSM 33; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985), 184–85, 188; H. G. M. Williamson, “The Death of Josiah and the Continuing Development of the Deuteronomic History,” VT 32 (1982): 242–47; idem, “Reliving the Death of Josiah: A Reply to C. T. Begg,” VT 37 (1987): 9–15; C. T. Begg, “The Death of Josiah in Chronicles: Another View,” VT 37 (1987) 1–8; Z. Talshir, “The Three Deaths of Josiah and the Strata of Biblical Historiography (2 K ings xxiii 29–30; 2 Chronicles xxxv 20–25; 1 Esdras i 23–31),” VT 46 (1996): 213–36; A. van der Kooij, “The Death of Josiah according to 1 Esdras,” Text 19 (1998): 97–109. 99 Although the noun אלהיםis a pl. formation, it consistently takes a sg. verb in Neco’s speech (2 Chr 35:21), indicating that the Egyptian king has a single deity in mind. 100 The normal forms of the assistance formula are “Yhwh is/will be with you” and “I am/ will be with you,” S. J. De Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles (FOTL; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1989), 437.
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Judah’s first Persian king. In the Chronistic discussion of the last four Judahite monarchs (Jehoahaz, Jehoiakim, Jehoiachin, and Zedekiah), each of these individuals is rated negatively and subjugated by foreign rulers (2 Chr 36:1–22).101 This is in itself hardly significant, because the much longer treatment of Kings also rates these kings negatively and documents in much greater detail the humiliations they suffer at the hands of Egyptian and Babylonian kings (2 Kgs 23:29–25:21). Yet, there is one notable instance in which the text criticizes a southern king for abrogating the terms of a treaty. In discussing the reign of the last Davidic monarch, the work condemns Zedekiah for violating his vassal oath to his liege lord, construing this sedition as a mark of disloyalty to the deity. Zedekiah “rebelled” ( )מרדagainst King Neuchadnezzar, “who had made him swear by God” ( ;אשר השביעו באלהים2 Chr 36:13).102 The Judahite coalition with some of its regional neighbors – Edom, Moab, Ammon, Tyre, and Sidon – (Jer 27:3–11), which seems to have formed part of the larger backdrop to Zedekiah’s rebellion, is not mentioned, however, in Chronicles.103 Zedekiah’s evident tilt toward Egypt (whether toward Psammetichus II or toward Apries) is also not discussed, but may be assumed by the accusation that Zedekiah violated the terms of his oath.104 The claim that Zedekiah rebelled ( )מרדagainst his suzerain is foregrounded by a related censure, namely that Zedekiah “did not humble himself ( )נכנעbefore Jeremiah the prophet (who spoke) from the mouth of Yhwh” ( ;מפי יהוה2 Chr 36:12).105 Jeremiah is, of course, one of the prophets, who most firmly counselled subjugation to Babylon as the fulfillment of God’s will for Judah (Jer 25:1–29:32, 43:9–11).106 101 Rudolph (Chronik, 334–38), Japhet (Ideology, 364–73; eadem, Chronicles, 1060–72); I. Kalimi, An Ancient Israelite Historian: Studies in the Chronicler, His Time, Place and Writing (SSN 46; Assen: Van Gorcum, 2005), 115–23; and Klein (2 Chronicles, 530–44) discuss the ways in which Chronicles innovates beyond Kings in creating its own distinctive portrayal of Judah’s demise. 102 The same verb ()מרד, normally denoting an illicit revolt (HALOT 632a), is employed in the source text (2 Kgs 24:20//Jer 52:3; so also Ezek 13:15), but Kings does not refer to Zedekiah’s oath. For that, one must turn to Ezekiel (17:13–20; cf. Josephus, Ant. 10.102), who excoriates “the royal seed” ( ; זרע המלוכה17:13), that is Zedekiah, because “he despised his oath” ( )בזה את־אלתוand “annulled his covenant with him” ()הפיר את־בריתו אתו, that is, with the Babylonian king (17:16). “In the midst of Babylon, he [Zedekiah] will die” (Ezek 17:16; cf. Jer 34:1–5). 103 Cogan and Tadmor, II Kings, 322–23; J. M. M iller and J. H. Hayes, A History of Ancient Israel and Judah (2nd ed.; Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2006), 468–77. 104 D. B. Redford, Egypt, Canaan, and Israel in Ancient Times (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992); idem, A History of Ancient Egypt: Egyptian Civilization in Context (Dubuque, IA: Kendell Hunt, 2006). 105 E.g., Jer 21:1–7; 24:1–10; 27:3–15; 37:1–27; 38:8–22; 39:1–7. Japhet suggests that prophecies of Ezekiel also lie in the background to this passage, Chronicles, 1069–70. 106 Vanderhooft, Neo-Babylonian Empire; R. A lbertz, Israel in Exile: The History and Literature of the Sixth Century B.C.E. (Studies in Biblical Literature 3; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2003); O. Lipschits, The Fall and Rise of Jerusalem: Judah under Babylonian Rule (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005), 36–84, 272–359; G. N. K noppers, “Exile, Return, and Diaspora: Expatriates and Repatriates in Late Biblical Literature,” in Texts, Con-
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The reference to Zedekiah’s violation of his oath is one factor in explaining how “he did evil in the sight of Yhwh his God” (2 Chr 36:11).107 Having consented to stand as a client king (2 Chr 36:10), following Nebuchadnezzar’s forced deportation of Kings Jehoiakim (2 Chr 36:6) and Jehoiachin (2 Chr 36:10), Zedekiah was expected to fulfill the terms of that client treaty. Yet, Zedekiah followed the path tread by other monarchs before him (e.g., 2 Chr 28:6, 19, 22, 25; 33:23), who refused to heed prophetic warnings.108 “He stiffened his neck ( ) ויקש את־ערפוand hardened his heart ( ) ויאמץ את־לבבוfrom returning ( )שובto Yhwh, the God of Israel” (2 Chr 36:13).109 In other words, Zedekiah’s rebellion is viewed not only as a political insurrection, but also as an abrogation of his duties to Yhwh. The very criticism presupposes that Nebuchadnezzar was entitled to receive due service from his liegeman. This example demonstrates, therefore, that the stance advanced in the literary work toward foreign diplomacy is multi-dimensional. In this important instance, cooperating with a foreign monarch is not an act of disloyalty, but an act congruent with (or a constituent part of) Judah’s larger obligation to serve Yhwh.
iii. “Yhwh has Granted All the Kingdoms of the Earth to Me”: Cyrus in the Divine Economy One encounters a new set of foreign policy questions with the rise of King Cyrus of Persia, given that the Judeans and the Persians did not share a previous history of diplomatic relations. With the passing of military dominion from the Neo-Babylonian regime to that of the Persians, what fate awaits Judeans in the new international order? What is the posture of Judeans to be toward the new government? Does the transition portend a restoration of the preexilic order, a continuation of the status quo, or something else again? The short treatment in Chronicles casts the rule of Cyrus, like that of Nebuchadnezzar before him, as divinely authorized. Indeed, this particular foreign emperor plays a unique role within the divine economy. Along with the writers of Ezra, the writers of Chronicles speak of Yhwh “arousing the spirit of Cyrus, King of Persia” to actualize the prophecies of Jeremiah (2 Chr 36:22//Ezra 1:1). The Persian king himself avers that “Yhwh the God of the Heavens,” granted to him “all the texts and Readings in Postexilic Literature: Explorations into Historiography and Identity Negotiation in Hebrew Bible and Related Texts (ed. L. C. Jonker; FAT II, 53; Tübingen: Mohr-Siebeck, 2011), 29–61. 107 The reason why the Chronistic evaluation is briefer than the longer evaluation in Kings and Jeremiah – “He did evil in the sight of Yhwh, according to all what Jehoiakim had done” (2 Kgs 24:18//Jer 52:2) – seems apparent. Zedekiah committed a series of rebellious actions that did not accord with all what his predecessor had done. 108 Japhet, Ideology, 176–91; Kelly, Retribution and Eschatology, 110–34. 109 The text of 2 Kgs 24:20 (cf. Jer 52:3), which mentions Zedekiah’s revolt, does not speak of his recalcitrance.
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kingdoms of the lands,” appointed him to build Yhwh a temple in Jerusalem, and invites all those who profess allegiance to this deity to travel up to Jerusalem to build Him a temple (2 Chr 36:23//Ezra 1:3).110 The period of forced exile is, therefore, over, even if the period of foreign subjection is not. Like Neco before him, Cyrus functions as a temporary spokesperson for the God of Israel. The ending of the work presents the rule of this foreign monarch not only as divinely ordained, but also as beneficial for Jerusalem and Judah. That Yehud is but a small part of this immense empire and subject to it is one implicit assumption of the imperial decree. Having effectively imposed a client relationship on his people in Neo-Babylonian times, the deity works through the aegis of a renewed client relationship in Persian times to the advantage of his dispersed people. To summarize, the work is critical of insurrection against foreign rule, if that foreign rule is considered to be divinely sanctioned. In such a scenario, to violate one’s relationship with a liege lord is tantamount to violating the terms of one’s relationship with one’s divine liege Lord. To complicate matters further, Chronicles presents clear instances in which foreign rulers act neither as adversaries nor as oppressors, but as pro tempore prophets and agents of Israel’s own God. How may one best explain the strong views articulated at the end of the composition, urging Judeans to respond positively to the opportunity that beckons with new imperial leadership? It may be recalled that the literary work depicts a time in which Judah enjoyed political independence as a Davidic monarchy, but is written during a time in which Judah was subject to imperial rule – the late Achaemenid/early Hellenistic age. In other words, the writing was prepared in the type of period sketched at the end of the work. Taking imperial governance as a divinely given (2 Chr 36:22–23), at least for a period of indeterminate length, it engages foreign policy issues Judah faced, when it enjoyed significant political autonomy. The question is why? Why does it repeatedly counsel a non-aggressive foreign policy and communal self-restraint throughout the Judahite monarchy? The work is not entirely pacifistic, because Judahites on various occasions defend themselves, when the state is invaded by opposing forces. But, by the same token, the state does not initiate with divine approbation aggressive military actions against its neighbors. Granted that Judah had been under foreign rule for over two centuries by the time the authors wrote, why would they even care about avoiding undue foreign entanglements, the unintended consequences of regional alliances, and the likelihood of divine retribution for pursuing client relationships? Why consistently contradict Kings on external affairs?
110 On the composition of the doublet in 2 Chr 36:22–23 and Ezra 1:1–3a, see my I Chronicles 1–9, 75–80.
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IV. The Topos of Alliances in the Fourth Century The non-belligerent and highly cautious Chronistic approach, stressing the community’s dependence on Yhwh, may be illumined by giving some attention to the fraught historical circumstances of minority societies in the southern Levant during the fourth century BCE. In what follows, I would like to pursue the historical question of why the writers of Chronicles, residing within the Yehud of the late-fourth century BCE, would be so concerned with revolts, conspiracies, unholy alliances, and the unintended consequences of foreign policy initiatives. In so doing, it is necessary to sketch what developments in the fourth century may have meant for the people of Yehud, because this subject is increasingly contested. Scholars agree that the largest geopolitical shift affecting the societies of the eastern littoral in the early to mid-fourth century BCE was the successful revolt of Egypt at the end of the fifth century BCE.111 Two successive Egyptian leaders successfully resisted the might of Persian armies: Amyrtaeus of Sais (Ἀμύρταῖος Σαΐτης; 404–398 BCE) of the 28th Dynasty and Nepherites I (398–393 BCE) of the 29th Dynasty. Given that Egypt represented such an enormous geopolitical and economic prize to the Achaemenid regime, the success of the Egyptian quest for independence could not have had but noticeable political, social, and economic effects on neighboring regions.112 The main centers of Egyptian power were geographically situated, of course, much closer to the southern Levant than were the main centers of Persian power. After consolidating power, it seems likely that Nepherites I expelled the Qedarite Arabs under Qaynu, son of Gashmu, from the eastern sector of the Wadi Tumilat, where they had formerly held sway with Persian support for over a century.113 In the decades following the Egyptian uprising, the eastern canal, which had formerly functioned as passageway between the Nile and the Persian heartland for commerce and military transport, was allowed to silt up.114 At some point (the date is uncertain), the Persians were forced to abandon northern 111 D. B. Redford, “Some Observations on the Traditions Surrounding ‘Israel in Egypt,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Persian Period (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and M. Oeming; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2011), 279–373. 112 Redford, “Observations,” 315–24. 113 F. V. Winnett and W. L. Reed, Ancient Records from North Arabia (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1970), 115–17; D. F. Graf, “Arabia in Achaemenid Times,” in Centre and Periphery: Proceedings of the Groningen 1986 Achaemenid History Workshop (ed. H. Sancisi-Weerdenburg and A. Kuhrt; Achaemenid History 4; Leiden: Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Oosten, 1990), 138–42; I. Ephʿal, “Changes in Palestine during the Persian Period,” IEJ 48 (1998) 115; E. Eshel, “The Onomasticon of Mareshah,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century B.C.E. (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and R. A lbertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 149. 114 C. Tuplin, “Darius’ Suez Canal and Persian Imperialism,” in Asia Minor and Egypt: Old Cultures in a New Empire: Proceedings of the Groningen 1988 Achaemenid History
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Arabia.115 Accordingly, the land route extending from southern Arabia to Gaza gained new prominence. The growing importance of this trade route illumines the linear setting of many Persian fortresses along the Beer Sheba-Arad Valley and along the Negev mountains, about 30 km to the south.116 With the rise of Egyptian independence, the Phoenician city-states became periodic objects of Egyptian ambitions. Nepherites I (398–393 BCE) of Mendes went so far as to launch an expedition of indeterminate length through the Sinai, into the coastal plain, and inland to Gezer, where a seal impression and broken inscription of his were discovered.117 On the basis of this evidence and the evidence of scattered uprisings in Asia Minor, one could contend that the Persian central regime was steadily losing its grip on the southwestern periphery of its empire. Indeed, some have argued that the Achaemenid state was mortally weakened by multiple threats without and by corruption within.118 According to this influential theory, the Persian government became heavily reliant on foreign mercenaries, excessive taxation of the provinces, and the good will of its own increasingly powerful satraps, as it encountered new challenges to its rule. The growing troubles the empire faced in subject territories were, therefore, a reflection of the government’s own structural weaknesses.119 Would that matters were so simple. The theory presumes what it needs to demonstrate, namely that the central state had become stuck in a long and irremediable decline. Historically, the situation was more dynamic and uncertain. Generalizations about an inescapable downward trajectory underestimate the powerful international force that the Persian empire remained. To be sure, the repeated successes of the Egyptians against the Persians reflected some disinteWorkshop (ed. H. Sancisi-Weerdenburg and A. Kuhrt; Achaemenid History 6; Leiden: Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Oosten, 1991), 238. 115 E.A. Knauf, “The Persian Administration in Arabia,” Transeu 2 (1990): 201–17; H. J. Katzenstein, “Gaza in the Persian Period,” Transeu 1 (1989): 77–78; Tuplin, “Suez Canal,” 272–73; H. K lengel, “Aufstände in vorhellenistischen Syrien: Versuch einer histori schen Bewertung,” in Avraham Malamat Volume (ed. S. A hituv et al.; ErIsr 24; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1993), 134*. 116 O. Lipschits and D. S. Vanderhooft, The Yehud Stamp Impressions: A Corpus of Inscribed Impressions from the Persian and Hellenistic Periods in Judah (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2011), 748–52, 761. 117 E. Stern, Archaeology of the Land of the Bible, II: The Assyrian, Babylonian, and Persian Periods (732–332 BCE (ABRL; New York: Doubleday, 2001), 358. 118 Proponents of the theory include A. T. Olmstead, History of the Persian Empire (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1948), 411–12, 495–524; J. Bright, A History of Israel (3rd ed.; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1981) 407–12; J. M. Cook, The Persian Empire (London: J. M. Dent, 1983), 128–31, 209–31; G. W. A hlström, The History of Ancient Palestine from the Palaeolithic Period to Alexander’s Conquest (JSOTSup 146; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1993), 890–91; Stern, Archaeology, 358–60. 119 The hypothesis is further burdened by the weight of Classical stereotypes of the Persians as Oriental despots, who became ever more effeminate, corrupt, and enervated as the empire they ruled deteriorated around them.
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gration of Achaemenid power and control over the vast empire they claimed as their own. Yet, even in the midst of fourth century uprisings, the Achaemenid state was still in command of a vast intelligence service, able to govern a wide variety of tributary states, satrapies, and sub-provinces, and capable of projecting power into the hinterland.120 In short, the problems the Achaemenids faced in Egypt and in the eastern Mediterranean littoral were not irreparable and there was no major rival to the Achaemenid regime itself. The traditional theory also occludes the plight of small provinces, such as Yehud and Samaria, which had to negotiate a constantly shifting international terrain. For many communities in Western Asia during the fourth century BCE, the Pax Persica was anything but peaceful. While the situation in Syria-Palestine in the early and mid-fourth century had neither become wildly chaotic nor anarchic, this area did become a contested international theatre that required sustained attention from the central authorities. With the loss of Egypt, successive Achaemenid monarchs saw the need to build a buffer zone and staging area against Egypt in southern Palestine.121 The rise of Egyptian independence, along with related developments in the West, led to more, not less, intensive Persian involvement in the southern Levant.122 A series of major attempts to retake Egypt in the fourth century followed the rise of Egyptian independence. One was led by Pharnabazos satrap of Daskylium (Hellespontine Phrygia; 413–373 BCE) along with his fellow satraps Tithraustes and Abrocomas. These leaders were entrusted by Artaxerxes II with the commission of leading a major Persian military campaign to retake Egypt (ca. 389–387 BCE). Insofar as the satraps were concerned with pushing the Egyptians out of Phoenicia and Palestine, they seemed to have been successful. The conquest of Egypt proved ultimately, however, to be a failure. The Egyptian ruler Akoris of the 29th Dynasty (393–380 BCE), aided by his allies, 120 Indeed, some contend that the imperial regime remained quite vigorous and successful in almost all respects until it came into direct conflict with the forces of Alexander of Macedon. See J. D. Grainger, Hellenistic Phoenicia (Oxford: Clarendon, 1991), 24–31; P. Briant, From Cyrus to Alexander: A History of the Persian Empire (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2002), 663–66, 817–71; L. L. Grabbe, A History of the Jews and Judaism in the Second Temple Period (2 vols.; LSTS 47, 68; London: T. & T. Clark, 2004, 2008), 1.322–49; 2.267–87; J. Wiesehöfer, “The Achaemenid Empire in the Fourth Century B.C.E.: A Period of Decline?” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and R. A lbertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 11–30. 121 J. D. R ay, “Egypt: Dependence and Independence (425–343 B.C.),” in Sources, Structures, and Synthesis: Proceedings of the Groningen 1983 Achaemenid History Workshop (ed. H. Sancisi-Weerdenburg; Achaemenid History I; Leiden: Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Oosten, 1987), 79–95; A. Lemaire, “La fin de la première période perse in Égypte et la chronologie judéene vers 400 av. J.-C.,” Transeu 9 (1995): 51–61; Briant, Cyrus to Alexander, 646–55, 663–66, 991–92. 122 D. F. Graf, “The Persian Royal Road System in Syria-Palestine,” Transeu 6 (1993): 149– 66.
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was up to the challenge and withstood the Persian invaders.123 Indeed, Akoris belongs to the line of Egyptian leaders who attempted to capitalize on their successes against the Persians by taking the offensive and attempting to reassert Egyptian influence along the Levantine littoral.124 One short inscription of Akoris is attested at Akko, while another is attested at Sidon.125 Unfortunately, the sources for reconstructing his reign leave something to be desired, so it is not known how long his campaign lasted or how far his reach extended.126 Although Pharnabazos failed in his first attempt against Egypt, he was entrusted with another consignment from Artaxerxes II to launch a second military assault in 373 BCE against Nectanebo I (Nakhtnebef) of the 30th Dynasty.127 Yet, this invasion also failed. In spite of the initial success enjoyed by the forces of Pharnabazos, Nectanebo was able with an undetermined amount of support from his Greek allies to repel the Persian invaders.128 A later attempt to recapture Egypt was led by the Persian king himself, namely Artaxerxes III, 123 Diodorus 15.2.2–3; Aristophanes, Ploutos 178; J. V. A. Fine, The Ancient Greeks: A Critical History (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1983), 558. 124 J. Elayi, “The Phoenician Cities in the Persian Period,” JANES 12 (1980): 22; eadem, Histoire de la Phénicie (Paris: Perrin, 2013); E. Stern, “The Persian Empire and the Political and Social History of Palestine in the Persian Period,” in The Cambridge History of Judaism, I: Introduction; The Persian Period (ed. W. D. Davies and L. Finkelstein; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984), 75; J. W. Betlyon, “Egypt and Phoenicia in the Persian Period: Partners in Trade and Rebellion,” in Egypt, Israel, and the Ancient Mediterranean World: Studies in Honor of Donald B. Redford (ed. G. N. Knoppers and A. Hirsch; Probleme der Ägyptologie 20; Leiden: Brill, 2004), 455–77; O. Tal, “Some Remarks on the Coastal Plain of Palestine under Achaemenid Rule: An Archaeological Synopsis,” in L’archéologie de l’empire achéménide, nouvelles recherches: actes du colloque organisé au Collège de France par le “Réseau international d’études et de recherches achéménides,” GDR 2538 CNRS, 21–22 novembre 2003 (ed. P. Briant and R. Boucharlat; Persika 6; Paris: De Boccard, 2005), 71–96. 125 A. Rowe, Catalogue of Egyptian Scarabs, Scaraboids, Seals and Amulets in the Palestinian Archaeological Museum (Cairo: Imprimerie de l’Institut français d’archéologie orientale, 1936), 205 (pl. xxxviii); Stern, Archaeology, 358, 362 (pl. III.1). 126 Nevertheless, that it was attempted at all tells us something about conditions in Syria-Palestine during this time. Nepherites I, Akoris, and Tachos (and Nectanebo II) would not have sought out alliances with kindred interests in the west and launched forays into targeted areas of the Levant unless they perceived vulnerabilities in Persian hegemony over Syria-Palestine. 127 The Greek name Pharnabazos in Greek script (ΦΑΡΝΑΒΑΖΟΣ) appears on one Samarian coin, written retrograde, from right to left, with only two vowels written (ΦΑΡΝΒΑΖC). See Y. Meshorer and S. Qedar, Samarian Coinage (Numismatics Studies and Researches 9; Jerusalem: Israel Numismatics Society, 1999), 28–29, 83 (no. 1). On the reverse of the coin, Samaria is written ( )שמרןin retrograde, from left to right, in Aramaic script. A second coin (a half denomination of the first) features the first three letters of the name Pharnabazos (ΦΑΡ), again written in retrograde, Meshorer and Qedar, Samarian Coinage, 83 (no. 2). The reverse ( )שמרis also written retrograde, from left to right, in Aramaic script. There has been some debate as to whether this Pharnabazos is the Pharnabazos, who became satrap of Daskylium in approximately 413 BCE and who led two unsuccessful campaigns against Egypt. But Pharnabazos is the most obvious candidate and no other plausible choices have surfaced thus far. His name also appears on a Tarsus coin struck between 379 and 372 BCE. 128 S. Ruzicka, Politics of a Persian Dynasty: The Hecatomnids in the Fourth Century B.C.
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who raised a large army and attempted an invasion of Egypt in the winter of 351/350 BCE. Nevertheless, he was defeated by Nectanebo II (360–343 BCE) of the 30th Dynasty. The second major campaign of Artaxerxes III succeeded, however, where others before had failed. Launching a massive assault against Egypt in 343 BCE, Artaxerxes III retook Egypt and the Persians were able to hold onto this prized possession, albeit with considerable brutality, for the next decade until the ascent of Alexander the Great.129 This military conquest would represent an entirely unexpected military achievement, if the Persians were no longer able to muster large forces, lacked critical support from major satrapies, and failed to master challenging military logistics over an enormous terrain. It is sometimes maintained that the battles in other parts of Syria-Palestine and the several Persian attempts to recapture Egypt in the fourth century had little, if no effect, on the sub-provinces of Samaria and Yehud, which were nestled in the interior hill country and thus largely separated from major troop movements along the coast. Yet, the thesis that the central hill country was somehow unaffected either by the disturbances in coastal areas or by the massive military campaigns against Egypt fails to convince. To begin with, large armies require tremendous amounts of logistical support, including a constant flow of foodstuffs (grain, wine, and oil), military (re)supply depots, and a defensive system to protect supply lines.130 To manage such major military expeditions, involving large numbers of troop contingents over long distances, requires administrative quarters for military leaders, significant supplementation of the forces by local conscripts (or mercenaries), the training and integration of such local forces, support personnel, and staging areas by which the contingents of soldiers could prepare to attack the enemy. It would be most unlikely if Samaria and Yehud were not called upon to do their share in providing critical support for the military campaigns. They were, after all, sub-provinces of the larger Persian empire and part of a vital land bridge, which connected Egypt to Mesopotamia and Asia Minor. In terms of land mass, the area is not large. Jerusalem is only some fifty-nine km from the Mediterranean Sea. (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1992); idem, Trouble in the West: Egypt and the Persian Empire, 525–332 BCE (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012). 129 Redford, “Observations,” 315–22; B. Lincoln, ‘Happiness for Mankind’: Achaemenian Religion and the Imperial Project (Acta Iranica 53; Leuven: Peeters, 2012). Upon the death of Artaxerxes III in 338 BCE, the Egyptians were again in revolt, but the insurrection failed. 130 J. W. Betlyon, “Archaeological Evidence of Military Operations in Southern Judah during the Early Hellenistic Period,” BA 54 (1991): 36–43; idem, “Neo-Babylonian Military Operations Other Than War in Judah and Jerusalem,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Neo-Babylonian Period (ed. O. Lipschits and J. Blenkinsopp; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2003), 263–83; idem, “Evidence of Peace and War in Persian Period Yehud,” in Cultural Contact and Appropriation in the Axial-Age Mediterranean world: A Periplos (ed. B. Halpern, K. Sacks, and T. E. Kelley; CHANE 86; Leiden: Brill, 2017), 83–102.
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Moreover, there is literary and material evidence to indicate the development of related types of administrative reforms in the fourth century BCE. To begin with, literary sources (e.g., Herodotus; Isocrates, Panegyricus 140) mention the Persian authorities requisitioning the support of local resources and personnel in support of imperial armies. Even the book of Chronicles, with its particular interests in the Davidic monarchy’s relationship with the Jerusalem Temple, mentions within its Sondergut Judah’s better kings amassing incredibly large armies and equipping them for deployment. In the good phases of their reigns, laudatory monarchs build fortifications ()מצרות, construct fortresses ()בירניות, station garrisons, and construct storehouses ( )אצרותor store-towns ( )ערי מסכנותin various parts of their domain (e.g., 1 Chr 27:25, 27–28; 2 Chr 11:10, 23; 12:4; 14:5; 17:2, 12; 21:3; 27:4; 32:27).131 Such royal investments in materiel and public infrastructure are, of course, hardly unknown in the earlier history of the ancient Near East and it has to be remembered that Chronicles ostensibly depicts life under the Judahite monarchy. But these sorts of assertions, which are almost entirely lacking in Kings, likely reflect, at least in part, projections into the Judahite past of administrative undertakings on the part of the imperial authorities the writers knew within recent history.132 Seeking to bolster their grip on the southern Levant, the Achaemenid authorities reinforced security along the roads in the southern parts of Palestine, including along the southern coast, the southern Shephelah, and the Beersheba-Arad valleys. The Negev forts were outfitted with large quantities of supplies.133 The fourth century is also the most likely date for the erection of the main fortified administrative center in Lachish (Level Ib).134 The new and rather large construction included an administrative residency, fortifications, and a number of subsidiary structures.135 Near Jerusalem, the major administrative center at Ramat Rachel, likely the seat of the Persian imperial governor of the province of Yehud, underwent a major expansion in the northwest section of the
131 Investments in public infrastructure and fortifications belong to a larger repertoire of motifs indicating divine favor. See recently, J. W. Wright, “Divine Retribution in Herodotus and the Book of Chronicles,” in Chronicling the Chronicler: The Book of Chronicles and Early Second Temple Historiography (ed. P. S. Evans and T. F. Williams; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2013), 195–214. 132 So also Betlyon, “Military Operations,” 274–75. 133 E. Stern, Material Culture of the Land of the Bible in the Persian Period 538–332 B.C.E. (Warminster: Aris & Phillips, 1982), 251–52; O. Lipschits and D. S. Vanderhooft, “Yehud Stamp Impressions in the Fourth Century B.C.E.,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century B.C.E. (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and M. Oeming; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 75–94. 134 A. Fantalkin and O. Tal, “Redating Lachish Level 1: Identifying Achaemenid Imperial Policy at the Southern Frontier of the Fifth Satrapy,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Persian Period (ed. O. Lipschits and M. Oeming; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2006), 167–97. 135 Fantalkin and Tal, “Lachish Level 1,” 167–77.
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palace.136 Such a considered enlargement of an already impressive public building evinces a serious imperial investment in a relatively small sub-province.137 Other much smaller administrative centers and Persian forts were situated along the central mountain ridge, in the Shephelah, in the Negev, and along the main roads near the coast.138 The fundamental modification in the form, style, pa leography, and orthography of the Yehud stamp impressions, which occurred in the late fifth or fourth centuries, may be also tied to the reorganization and administrative consolidation of the province after the Persian empire lost its dominion over Egypt.139
Conclusions In the setting of the latter fourth century, the Chronistic strictures against forming alliances and revolting against imperial forces become more understandable. At a time in which the hold of the Persian central regime on its western periphery was increasingly questioned, it is quite imaginable that Judeans, like other minority populations, yearned to see themselves free from centuries of living under a foreign yoke. To be sure, it would have been suicidal for any one center to rebel (although some did anyway), but small states leagued together stood a better chance. If the central regime was forced to confront resistance on several fronts simultaneously, its task would be much more challenging. Given the small population of Yehud and its precarious position in the postmonarchic era, regional alliances might well be viewed by some as the most expedient means to consolidate the community in the hopes of gaining greater political autonomy. Engineering some sort of accommodation with the leadership of Judah’s neighbors might well be seen as serving the best interests of all parties. That thoughts of achieving independence were not matters of idle speculation is evidenced by the fourth-century revolts of several satraps in Asia Minor and by the Tennes rebellion in mid-century Sidon.140 Closer to home, the leadership 136 O. Lipschits, Y. Gadot, and D, Langgut, “The Riddle of Ramat Rachel: The Archaeology of a Royal Edifice,” Transeu 41 (2012): 57–79. 137 O. Lipschits, Y. Gadot, B. A rubas, and M. Oeming, “Paradise and Village, Paradise and Oblivion,” NEA 74 (2011): 2–49; idem, What are the Stones Whispering? Ramat Rahel: 3,000 Years of Forgotten History (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2017). 138 Stern, Archaeology, 420–21, 577–79; O. Tal, “Some Remarks on the Coastal Plain of Palestine under Achaemenid Rule: An Archaeological Synopsis,” in L’archéologie de l’empire achéménide, nouvelles recherches: actes du colloque organisé au Collège de France par le “Réseau international d’études et de recherches achéménides,” GDR 2538 CNRS, 21–22 novembre 2003 (ed. P. Briant and R. Boucharlat; Persika 6; Paris: De Boccard, 2005), 71–96; Fantalkin and Tal, “Redating Lachish Level I,” 181–83. 139 Lipschits and Vanderhooft, Yehud Stamp Impressions, 761. 140 It may be best to understand these revolts not as one grand coordinated conspiracy against Achaemenid imperial hegemony, but as a series of local rebellions (or clusters of rebel-
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of Samaria, Judah’s northern neighbor, rose up against the rule of Alexander the Great. The particular reasons why Samarians murdered the Macedonianappointed prefect of Syria (Andromachus) in 331 BCE, while Alexander the Great was extending his campaign into Egypt, are unknown (Quintus Curtius Rufus, Hist. Alex. 4.8, 9–10). The rebellion resulted in punitive reprisals by Alexander’s forces that included the destruction of the town of Samaria and a new settlement of Macedonians at the site.141 The reaction of Samaria to the turmoil created by the forces of Alexander the Great in upending the status quo in the southern Levant may be contrasted with that of Judah. Unlike Sidon, Samaria, and some other sites, Judah successfully navigated the transition from the rule of one empire to another without bloodshed or the loss of life. In the highly imaginative account of Josephus (Ant. 11.317–345; cf. 1 Macc 1:1–7), the forces of Alexander the Great were met by the High Priest Jaddua, attendant priests, and a procession of laypeople from Jerusalem.142 Whatever the case, the diplomatic restraint exercised by Judean leaders in the latter part of the fourth century may be considered one of the great achievements of Judean foreign policy. The particulars of the internal discussions among the elite within Yehud as the Persian empire fell and was replaced by an even larger Alexandrine empire are lost to us. Nevertheless, one wonders whether the (Levitical) circles responsible for the composition of Chronicles, with their emphases upon relying on Yhwh, standing firm in the face of adversity (2 Chr 20:20; cf. Isa 7:9), and exercising communal self-restraint may have made their own contribution to this debate.
lions) over an indeterminate period. The notion (Diodorus 15.90.3) that a variety of satraps in Asia Minor actively conspired to launch a coordinated invasion of Transeuphratene in 362 BCE (the so-called “Great Satraps revolt”), advancing all the way into Mesopotamia, has proved to be ill founded. Cf. M. Weiskopf, The So-Called “Great Satraps’ Revolt,” 366–360 B.C.: Concerning Local Instability in the Achaemenid Far West (Historia-Einzelschriften 63; Stuttgart: F. Steiner, 1989). Similarly, the theory that the Tennes rebellion comprised a well-coordinated and large-scale multi-state conspiracy is based largely on conjecture and relies too heavily on the problematic testimony of Diodorus. See Briant, Cyrus to Alexander, 663–85; L. L. Grabbe, “Archaeology and Archaiologias: Relating Excavations to History in Fourth-Century BCE Palestine,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and R. A lbertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 125–35. 141 G. N. K noppers, Jews and Samaritans: The Origins and History of Their Early Relations (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013), 169–70. 142 J. C. VanderKam, From Joshua to Caiaphas: High Priests after the Exile (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2004).
Chapter Three
Archaizing Tendencies in Samaria’s Religious Culture during Hellenistic Times1 In the first volume of his extensive study, A History of the Jews and Judaism in the Second Temple Period, Lester Grabbe comments that a number of peculiar problems confront the would-be historian in attempting to write about the Persian period.2 Among these are the survival of few primary (contemporary) documents, the types of extant written sources, large gaps in the available sources, and the fact that most narrative descriptions written about this era in antiquity are late works in Greek or Latin, presenting events from a Hellenic or Roman perspective. When he later turns to discussing the history of one of Judah’s neighbors, Samaria, during the Achaemenid era, Grabbe describes our present knowledge as “skimpy.”3 One might add that scholarly reconstructions have been hampered by an over-reliance on late Judean biblical texts, most of which are polemical in tone, and the testimony of Josephus.4 Happily, as Grabbe himself notes, recent discoveries have begun to change this picture.5 The publication of the Samaria papyri and seal impressions, the publication and analysis of hundreds of Samarian coins, and the partial publication of the Mt. Gerizim excavations have enhanced our knowledge and complicated older reconstructions of the religious history of the region of Samaria during the Achaemenid and Hellenistic eras. 6 1 An earlier version of this revised and updated essay appeared as “Aspects of Samaria’s Religious Culture during the Early Hellenistic Period,” in The Historian and the Bible: Essays in Honour of Lester L. G rabbe (ed. P. R. Davies and D. V. Edelman; LHBOTS 530; London: T&T Clark, 2010), 159–74. 2 L. L. Grabbe, A History of the Jews and Judaism in the Second Temple Period, 1: Yehud – A History of the Persian Province of Judah (LSTS 47; London: T&T Clark, 2004), 17. 3 Grabbe, History of the Jews, 155. 4 See D. V. Edelman, The Origins of the ‘Second’ Temple: Persian Imperial Policy and the Rebuilding of Jerusalem (BibleWorld; London: Equinox, 2005), 66–67. 5 Grabbe, History of the Jews, 155–59. 6 See F. M. Cross, “The Papyri and Their Historical Implications,” in Discoveries in the Wâdī ed-Dâliyeh (ed. P. W. Lapp and N. L. Lapp; AASOR 41; Cambridge: ASOR, 1974), 17– 29; idem, “A Report on the Samaria Papyri,” in Congress Volume, Jerusalem 1986 (ed. J. A. Emerton; VTSup 40; Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1986), 17–26; M. J. W. Leith, Wadi Daliyeh I: The Seal Impressions (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997); D. M. Gropp, Wadi Daliyeh II: The Samaria Papyri from Wadi Daliyeh (DJD 28; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001); Dušek, Les manuscrits araméens; L. M ildenberg, “Yĕhûd und šmryn: Über das Geld der persischen Provinzen Juda und Samaria im 4. Jahrhundert,” in Geschichte-Tradition-Reflexion: Fest-
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My essay deals with some aspects of Samaria’s religious culture as reflected in the hundreds of short (fragmentary) inscriptions from Mt. Gerizim written in lapidary Aramaic, cursive Aramaic, and paleo-Hebrew script.7 The Mt. Gerizim inscriptions written in the Samaritan script may be left out of this discussion as these texts date to the late antique and medieval periods.8 This study will focus on the composition of proper names within the available epigraphic sources.9 At the outset, some caution must be exercised in dealing with onomastic evidence so as not to draw far reaching and detailed conclusions about the history and culture of a particular area.10 There are limits to how much inforschrift für Martin Hengel zum 70. Geburtstag (ed. H. Cancik, H. Lichtenberger, and P. Schäfer; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1996), 119–46; idem, Vestigia Leonis: Studien zur antiken Numismatik Israels, Palästinas und der östlichen Mittelmeerwelt (NTOA 36; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1998); Y. Meshorer and S. Qedar, Samarian Coinage (Numismatics Studies and Researches 9; Jerusalem: Israel Numismatics Society, 1999); Y. Magen, “Mt. Gerizim—A Temple City (Hebrew),” Qadmoniot 33/2 (2000): 74–118; idem, “The Dating of the First Phase of the Samaritan Temple at Mount Gerizim in Light of the Archaeological Finds in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and R. A lbertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 157–211; idem, Mount Gerizim Excavations, 3: Temple City (JSP 8; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2008); Y. Magen, H. M isgav, and L. Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations, I: The Aramaic, Hebrew and Samaritan Inscriptions (JSP 2; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2004). 7 Some issues of script nomenclature: what F. M. Cross (“The Development of the Jewish Scripts,” in The Bible and the Ancient Near East: Essays in Honor of William Foxwell Albright [ed. G. E. Wright; Garden City: Doubleday, 1961], 136–53) and others have called the paleo-Hebrew script, the imitation (or continuation) of the old Hebrew script, Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania call the Neo-Hebrew script (Mount Gerizim Excavations, 30–35). We retain the older (and less confusing) designation. What Cross (“The Development,” 136–53), Joseph Naveh (“Hebrew Texts in Aramaic Script in the Persian Period?” BASOR 203 [1971]: 27–32), and others have called the Proto-Hasmonean script, referring to the archaic (or archaizing) script that appears in approximately 250–150 BCE, the Mt. Gerizim epigraphers call the Proto-Jewish script. This script should be renamed, however, in light of the paleographic evidence found at Mt. Gerizim. Both designations (Proto-Jewish and Proto-Hasmonean) are inappropriate, because said script was once thought to be a distinctive local development from the standard Aramaic cursive of the late Persian empire. But the script is neither distinctive of Judah nor unique to Judah and Samaria. Following Jan Dušek, I label the script cursive Aramaic (Les manuscrits araméens, 62; Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions from Mt. Gerizim and Samaria between Antiochus III and Antiochus IV Epiphanes [CHANE 54; Leiden: Brill, 2012]). 8 Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations, 261–64. 9 For political and administrative history, the recent survey of Dušek is helpful (“Administration of Samaria in the Hellenistic Period,” in Samaria, Samarians, Samaritans: Studies on Bible, History, and Linguistics [ed. J. Zsengellér; SJ 66; StSam 6; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2011], 71–88). 10 See D. V. Edelman, “Introduction,” in The Triumph of Elohim: From Yahwisms to Judaisms (ed. D. V. Edelman; CBET 13; Kampen: Pharos, 1995), 15–25; idem, “Tracking Observance of the Aniconic Tradition through Onomastics,” in The Triumph of Elohim: From Yahwisms to Judaisms (ed. D. V. Edelman; CBET 13; Kampen: Pharos), 185–225; M. C. A. Macdonald, “Personal Names in the Nabataean Realm: A Review Article,” JSS 44 (1999): 251–89; L. L. Grabbe, Judaism from Cyrus to Hadrian (2 vols.; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1992); idem, Judaic Religion in the Second Temple Period: Belief and Practice from the Exile to Yavneh
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mation about ethnicity or religious affiliation can be derived from the make-up of proper names. To take one example, the element בעלcan function in a proper name as a theonym or as an appellative. In the former case, the term can refer to a particular deity, the Canaanite god Haddad or Haddu; but, in the latter case, בעלcan function as an epithet for a variety of ancient Near Eastern deities, including Yhwh.11 To take a second example, in dealing with the onomastic evidence stemming from the Neo-Babylonian, Achaemenid, and Hellenistic periods, one has to account for the phenomenon of double (or second) names. Double names are cases in which a person may carry a second name with no relationship to that person’s own ethnic background.12 The use of double names may be subject to several different explanations within the larger international context of various ethnic groups coexisting during the postmonarchic era. But, in any case, the very phenomenon of second names augurs against assuming that those bearing foreign names had somehow abandoned their traditional gods or ethnic backgrounds. In short, the linguistic and religious features of personal names may be used in some cases to provide some indication of their bearers’ identities, but one must be careful to recognize the limitations of the evidence available to us.13 If the names appear with patronyms, affiliations, titles, or place names, that information may be very useful as a control in contextualizing the possible significance (London: Routledge, 2000); B. Becking, “West Semites at Tell Šēh Hamad: Evidence for the ˘ ˙ Israelite Exile?” in Kein Land für sich allein: Studien zum Kulturkontakt in Kanaan, Israel/ Palästina und Ebirnâri für Manfred Weippert zum 65. Geburtstag (ed. U. Hübner and E. A. K nauf; OBO 186; Freiburg: Universitätsverlag, 2002), 153–66. 11 M. J. Mulder, “ בעַל ַ baʿal,” TDOT 2:182–85. An example from the Samaria papyri is bʿlytwn, “Baʿl has given” (WDSP 12.4, 5). A much-discussed case in biblical literature is the name of one of Saul’s sons: אישׁ בשׁת, “Ishbosheth” (MT 2 Sam 2:8) or אשבעל, “Ishbaal” (LXX 2 Kgdms 2:8; MT 1 Chr 8:33; P. K. McCarter, II Samuel (AB 8A; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1984], 85–87). Cf. 1 Chr 12:6 בעליה, “Yhwh is (my) lord” (one of David’s warriors). It is interesting that בעלappears as a PN and that the בעלelement appears in a variety of personal names in Chronicles, by all accounts a postexilic work. Not all of these anthroponyms are reproduced from the Chronicler’s Vorlagen (see G. N. K noppers, I Chronicles 10–29 [AB 12A; New York: Doubleday/New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004], 521, 562). 12 See R. Zadok, The Pre-Hellenistic Israelite Anthroponymy and Prosopography (OLA 28; Leuven: Peeters, 1988), 12–13; M. Dandamaev, “Twin Towns and Ethnic Minorities in First-Millennium Babylonia,” in Commerce and Monetary Systems in the Ancient World: Means of Transmission and Cultural Interaction (ed. R. Rollinger and C. Ulf; Melammu Symposia 5; Stuttgart: Franz Steiner, 2004), 137–49. 13 See J. H. Tigay, You shall have No Other Gods: Israelite Religion in the Light of Hebrew Inscriptions (HSS 31; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986); idem, “Israelite Religion: The Onomastic and Epigraphic Evidence,” in Ancient Israelite Religion: Essays in Honor of Frank Moore Cross (ed. P. D. M iller, P. D. Hanson, and S. D. McBride; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987), 157–94; S. Layton, Archaic Features of Canaanite Personal Names in the Hebrew Bible (HSM 47; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990); P-.A. Beaulieu, “Yahwistic Names in Light of Late Babylonian Onomastics,” in Judah and the Judeans: Negotiating Identity in an International Context (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and M. Oeming; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2011), 245– 66.
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of such anthroponyms. In any case, one has to deal with the evidence that is available to us, recognizing its limitations and cultural context(s).
I. Proper Names in the Mt. Gerizim Inscriptions When looking at the composition of Samarian proper names in the Hellenistic period, the recently published inscriptions discovered at Mt. Gerizim are of considerable help. The approximately 400 fragmentary inscriptions unearthed over the course of the recent excavations on Mount Gerizim represent a most welcome epigraphic discovery.14 The inscriptions are written in lapidary Aramaic, cursive Aramaic, paleo-Hebrew, and Samaritan scripts. The discovery of a large number of inscriptions in the cursive Aramaic script is especially notable. Most of the inscriptions from Mt. Gerizim are dated to the third and second centuries BCE.15 Unfortunately, most of the inscriptions, whatever their exact dates, were not found in situ, but were found scattered in various areas around the site.16 Almost all of the inscriptions are of a votive or dedicatory character.17 It should be noted that many of the texts written in Aramaic (lapidary Aramaic and cursive Aramaic) script and paleo-Hebrew script were discovered in and around the area of the sacred precinct. Yitzhak Magen, Haggai Misgav, and Levana Tsfania hypothesize that the votives were inscribed on already extant stones embedded in walls surrounding or leading up to the temple.18 After the temple was destroyed, many of the stones upon which the votive texts were inscribed were reused in later building phases. In what follows, I wish to discuss not only certain aspects of the inscriptions written in lapidary Aramaic, but also some of the cursive Aramaic and paleo-He14 See J. Naveh and Y. Magen, “Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions of the Second-Century BCE at Mount Gerizim,” ʿAtiqot 32 (1997): 9*–17*; J. Naveh, “Scripts and Inscriptions in Ancient Samaria,” IEJ 48 (1998) 91–100; Magen, “Mt. Gerizim”; idem, “The Dating of the First Phase of the Samaritan Temple at Mount Gerizim in Light of the Archaeological Finds,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and R. A lbertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 157–211; Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations; Dušek, Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions. 15 The epigraphers leave open the possibility that at least some of the texts—those written in lapiday Aramaic script—may have been written in the late Persian period (Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations, 14, 41). If my assumption that these texts date to the third and second centuries BCE, following the analysis of Dušek (Les manuscrits araméens; Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions), proves to be mistaken, it would not materially affect the conclusions reached below. 16 Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations, 14, 30, 271–72. 17 A. K. de Hemmer Gudme provides a detailed form-critical study (Before the God in this Place for Good Remembrance: A Comparative Analysis of the Aramaic Votive Inscriptions from Mount Gerizim [BZAW 441; Boston: de Gruyter, 2013], 52–90). 18 Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations, 13–14.
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brew inscriptions. It must be remembered that although these texts date to the Hellenistic era, they provide a glimpse into the longue durée of the Mt. Gerizim site. They either presuppose the existence of a Yahwistic temple or make explicit references to this shrine.19 As such, the inscriptions may provide us with insight into the character of the developing Samarian community and its reception of the Mt. Gerizim sanctuary. Since epigraphic evidence from this general area dating to the third and second centuries is not abundant, the texts provide welcome light on an obscure era. It may be appropriate to begin with a very brief discussion of some personal names among the inscriptions before we move on to discuss inscriptions involving the temple and its religious affairs. As is the case with the Samaria papyri and the Samarian numismatic remains, one finds a variety of personal names of a Yahwistic character, such as Delaiah ()דליה, Hananiah ( )חנניהand/or Honiah ˙ ˙ ([)חני]ה, Jehonathan ()יהונתן, Jehoseph ( ; יהוסףcf. Ps 81:6), Joseph () יוסף, Shemaiah ()שמעיה, as well as common anthroponyms, such as Elnatan ()אלנתן, Ephraim ()אפרים, Zabdi ()זבדי, Haggai ()חגי, 20 Jacob ()יעקוב, and Simeon ()שמעון.21 Less com˙ mon names include Abishag ( )]אבי[שגand Shobai ()שבי.22 In a northern context, it is not surprising to find personal names such as Ephraim, Jacob, and Joseph. Yet, one also finds ]י[הוד, “Yehud” (MGI 43 [cursive Aramaic script]) and ]י[הודה, “Judah” (MGI 49 [cursive Aramaic script]) among the anthroponyms at Mt. Gerizim. If there was a long history of intense rivalry and ongoing enmity between the Jerusalem and Mt. Gerizim communities, it would be less likely that one would find individuals named Judah and Yehud making dedications at the Mt. Gerizim shrine.23 Also of interest is the threefold occurrence of the personal name Miriam ( )מריםamong the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions. In the Hebrew scriptures, the name occurs prominently as the nomenclature for the sister of Moses, one of the lead19
The structure is referred to as a מקדש, “sanctuary,” in MGI 150.3. also appears as the name of a village ( ;כפר חגיMGI 3.4–5), the home of one of those, ˙who made a dedication on Mt. Gerizim. 21 Perhaps the name Tabya (MGI 200 [lapidary Aramaic script]) should be added to this ˙ means “deer” in Aramaic. The excavators believe, however, that list, although tbyʾ normally ˙ tbyʾ may be short for tbyh (or tbyhw). Tabya was a common Samaritan name the fragmentary ˙ once in the Samaritan high priestly ˙ Excepting recent times, ˙ ˙ appears in several periods. the PN lineages (Tulida 18ב7). 22 Cf. ; שביEzra 2:53; N. Avigad and B. S ass, Corpus of West Semitic Stamp Seals (Jerusalem: Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1997), 71 no. 63. 23 Alternatively, it is not out of the realm of possibility that the dedicator mentioned in the inscription was from Judah or Benjamin. Note, for example, the use of Judah ( )יהודהas the personal name of a Benjaminite individual in the postexilic age (Neh 11:9; cf. 1 Chr 9:7 Hodaviah [ ;]הודויהG. N. K noppers, “Sources, Revisions, and Editions: The Lists of Jerusalem’s Residents in MT and LXX Nehemiah 11 and 1 Chronicles 9,” Text 20 [2000]: 141–68; idem, I Chronicles 1–9 [AB 12; New York: Doubleday/New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004], 495). Judah could also have been the name of a Levite (e.g., Ezra 3:9; 10:23; Neh 12:8 [MT]) or of a priest (e.g., Neh 12:34, 36). 20 Haggai
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ers of the exodus generation (Exod 15:20; Num 12:1–15; 20:1; 26:59; Deut 24:9; Mic 6:4; 1 Chr 5:29). The name appears only once elsewhere, as the proper name of a descendant of Judah (1 Chr 4:17).24 The name is thus far unattested, to my knowledge, on any Israelite or Judahite inscriptions, seals, or bullae.25 On two of the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions, Miriam appears as the name of a donor. In one case, an inscription written in monumental Aramaic script, a certain Miriam makes an unspecified offering ( )הקרבתon behalf of herself ( )על נפשוand on behalf of her sons ( ;ועל בניהMGI 17).26 In another case, Miriam appears as one of a number of benefactors (MGI 20 [lapidary Aramaic script]).27 In the third case, an inscription in cursive Aramaic script, the context (… )מרימis too fragmentary to reach any larger conclusions (MGI 213). Miriam is thus only one of several names found among the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions that are reminiscent of the appellatives given to prominent figures in the people’s classical past. Some archaizing names recall the time of the ancestors (e.g., Jacob, Joseph, Ephraim, Judah, Levi, Simeon), while others recall major figures associated with the times of exodus, Sinai, and Israel’s emergence in the land (e.g., Amram, Eleazar, Miriam, Phinehas).28 As with the personal names found among the Samaria papyri, there are some foreign names in the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions, for example, ]בג[והי, “Bagohi” (MGI 27 [lapidary Aramaic]). Interestingly, but not too surprisingly given the long history of the Mt. Gerizim sacred precinct in the Persian, Hellenistic, Roman, and Byzantine eras, about one fifth of the total proper names attested are Greek names.29 In summary, when surveying the Mt. Gerizim onomasticon with the early Hellenistic period in view, one is struck by three things: 1) the 24 Knoppers,
I Chronicles 1–9, 350. The PN becomes very common, however, in the latter part of the Second Temple period (T. Ilan, “Notes on the Distribution of the Jewish Women’s Names in Palestine in the Second Temple and Mishnaic Period,” Journal of Jewish Literature 40 [1989]: 191–97). 26 Since Miriam appears as the donor and no husband is mentioned, Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania assume that she was widowed or divorced (Mount Gerizim Excavations, 61). This is quite possible, but the overall situation may be somewhat complex. In most cases, as Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania point out, a husband/father makes an offering on behalf of himself and his family (Mount Gerizim Excavations, 20). But there are also a few instances of joint husband-wife dedications (MGI 1; 54). Moreover, in a few cases, a wife makes a dedication herself (MGI 18; 19 [see below]). In these instances, the inscription acknowledges a marital attachment or identification for the woman in question, but the woman is in reality the only benefactor. 27 Without any statement of filial relations or marital attachment (see previous note). 28 Of these, some names, such as Joseph and Jacob, become very common in later Second Temple inscriptions found in Judean contexts both within the land and within the diaspora (T. Ilan, Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity, I [TSAJ 91; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002], 150–68, 171–74; T. Ilan with T. Ziem, Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity, III [TSAJ 126; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008], 111–27). 29 Given their number, along with the different scripts represented, these names deserve a separate study. 25
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number of common Yahwistic proper names; 2) the number of archaizing personal names, that is, names that recall the names of male and female figures associated with Israel’s ancient past; and 3) the number of common Hebrew names.
II. The Mt. Gerizim Inscriptions and the Mt. Gerizim Temple The names found in the Mt Gerizim inscriptions may be approached from another vantage point. It may be useful to pay some attention to the relevance of the inscriptions for our understanding of the temple and its religious context. To begin with, one inscription written in lapidary Aramaic mentions “bulls ( )פריןin … [sacrifi]ced in the house of sacrifice” ( ;בית דבחאMGI 199).30 The reference to a “house of sacrifice” is especially intriguing, because the same expression (in Hebrew) is used by the deity in the book of Chronicles to refer to his election ( )בחרof the temple in Jerusalem ( ;בית זבח2 Chr 7:12). Similarly, the governors of Judah and Samaria refer to the small Judean temple at Elephantine in the Persian period as “the altar house,” ;בית מדבחאTAD 4.9:3) in their joint communique supporting the Elephantine community’s tender to obtain authorization from the Egyptian satrap to rebuild their sanctuary. Other inscriptions contain formulae, such as “before God/the Lord in this place,” or simply “before God” or “before the Lord” (MGI 149–55).31 Based on biblical and extrabiblical parallels, such phraseology almost always suggests the context of a sacred precinct. One of the inscriptions written in paleo-Hebrew script contains the Tetragrammaton, apparently as part of the phrase “[the house of] Yhwh” (MGI 383).32 The use of the Tetragrammaton is, however, relatively rare and is not found among the extant cursive Aramaic inscriptions.33 The common terms for the divine are Elaha, “God” ( )אלהאand “the Lord” ()אדני. For example, an inscription in cursive Aramaic script reads, in part, “[that which] Joseph [son of …] offered [for] his [w]ife and for his sons [before the L] ord in the sanctuary” (MGI 150.1–3). 30 B. Becking provides a helpful discussion (“Do the Earliest Samaritan Inscriptions Already Indicate a Parting of the Ways?” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century [ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and R. A lbertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007], 213– 22). 31 Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations, 18–19, 140–46. 32 Dušek (Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions, 54–58, 62–63) hypothesizes that MGI 382– 385, 387 were originally all part of one inscription (discovered in locus 22), serving an official purpose. All of these inscriptions, featuring priestly names, are written in paleo-Hebrew script on stones prepared with double vertical rulings. On the use of double vertical rulings in Samari(t)an tradition (also characteristic of SP manuscripts), see J. Dušek, “Ruling of Inscriptions in Samaria,” Maarav 14 (2007): 43–65. 33 Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations, 22–23.
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Some inscriptions contain the titles of a priest ( כהןor )כהנאor priests ( כהניאor )כהנים, who served as religious specialists at the Mt. Gerizim shrine.34 There may even be a reference in one of the inscriptions, including the name Phinehas (MGI 384.1), to the high priest (MGI 384.3), but the context is fragmentary ()…[ הגדל.35 One should mention, in this context, the appearance of a number of Levitical and priestly names found in the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions, such as Levi ( )לוי, a personal name that is found on two different inscriptions (MGI 56.1 [lapidary Aramaic script]; MGI 165.1 [cursive Aramaic script]).36 It should be pointed out, however, that unlike the situation with the references to the priests as a group ()כהנים ;כהניא, there are no attested references to the Levites as a group (e.g., לוים, )הלוים. Among the priestly names attested in the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions are Amram ()עמרם, the name of the father of Moses in biblical tradition (Exod 6:18, 20; Num 3:19; 26:58; Ezra 10:34; 1 Chr 5:28; 6:3; 23:12; 24:20; MGI 149.1 [cursive Aramaic script]) and Eleazar ()אלעזר, the name of the son of Aaron (Exod 6:23; Josh 24:33; Judg 20:28; Ezra 7:5; 1 Chr 5:29; 6:35; 24:1–6). The name Eleazar is found on two separate inscriptions (MGI 1.1 [lapidary Aramaic script]; MGI 32 [lapidary Aramaic script]), as well as on one square-shaped object, possibly a late seal (MGI 390 [paleo-Hebrew script]).37 Another common priestly name found among the inscriptions is Phinehas ()פינחס, the son of Eleazar in biblical tradition and in the Deutero-Canon.38 The name Phinehas is found on five different inscriptions.39 The repeated appear34 MGI 24 (lapidary Aramaic); MGI 25 (cursive Aramaic); MGI 382 (paleo-Hebrew), MGI 388–389 (paleo-Hebrew). Actually, MGI 389 is written in a mixed script (cursive Aramaic and paleo-Hebrew). See further Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations, 40. 35 Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations, 255; Dušek, Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions, 58. 36 The PN לויregularly appears in the Samaritan high priestly lists (Tulida 8א216; 8ב103; 8ב106; 11א172; 18ב6). By contrast, Levi is not attested as a high priestly name in the succession of Jerusalem high priests attested in biblical and extra-biblical sources (J. C. VanderKam, From Joshua to Caiaphas: High Priests after the Exile [Minneapolis: Fortress, 2004]). 37 A priest by the name of Eleazar ben Phinehas is attested in the times of Samuel (1 S am 7:1) and Ezra (8:33; cf. Neh 12:42). But Eleazar is not exclusively a priestly name. Eleazar appears as the personal name of one of David’s warriors (2 Sam 23:29//1 Chr 11:12; 27:24 [LXX]; Knoppers, I Chronicles 10–29, 537, 548) and as the name of a layperson in the time of Ezra (10:25). The name Eleazar is probably the most common of all the Samaritan high priestly names, appearing some twenty times in the high priestly lineages (M. Florentin, The Tulida—A Samaritan Chronicle: Text, Translation, Commentary [Jerusalem: Ben Zvi, 1999]; R. P ummer, “An Update of Moses Gaster’s ‘Chain of Samaritan High Priests’” in The Bible, Qumran, and the Samaritans [ed. M. Kartveit and G. N. K noppers; SJ 104; StSam 10; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2018], 149–72). 38 Exod 6:25; Num 25:7, 11; 31:6; Josh 22:13, 30–32; 24:33; Judg 20:28; Ps 106:30; Ezra 7:5; 8:2; 1 Chr 5:30; 6:35; 9:20; 24:1; Sir 45:23; 50:24; 1 Macc 2:26, 54; 4 Macc 18:12. As the priestly son of Eli, see 1 Sam 1:3; 2:34; 4:4, 11, 17, 19; 14:3. 39 MGI 24 (lapidary Aramaic script); MGI 25 (cursive Aramaic script); MGI 61 (cursive Aramaic script); MGI 384 (paleo-Hebrew script); and MGI 389 (paleo-Hebrew script). The
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ance of the name in paleo-Hebrew script may be important insofar as this script seems to have been favored (although not exclusively so) in sacerdotal dedications.40 If the reconstruction of Jan Dušek is on the mark, the appellative of Abisha/Abishua is also attested in one of the inscriptions written in paleo-Hebrew script (…] ;אב[ישע וMGI 385.2).41 In biblical lore Abisha/Abishua was the son of Phinehas (Exod 6:25) and the great grandson of Aaron (Ezra 7:5//1 Esd 8:2//2 Esd 1:2; 1 Chr 5:29–31 [ET 6:4–5]; 6:35 [ET 6:50]). The anthroponym is relatively rare (1 Chr 8:4), apart from sacerdotal lineages.42 My argument is not that all of these figures with traditional Levitical and priestly names actually served as cultic functionaries or priests at Mt. Gerizim. The fragmentary evidence does not permit such a sweeping conclusion. Nevertheless, a few of the inscriptions do mention such sacerdotal personnel, along with their personal names, as the source of the relevant dedications.43 In other words, it is clear priests were among those who made dedications at the shrine. It is also interesting that many of these priestly names replicate priestly names associated with Israel’s ancient past. Perhaps some of the other dedicatory inscriptions included additional priestly names along with priestly titles, but the evidence is too partial to know for sure.
III. Biblical Names, Samarian Names, and Judean Names In their studies of the epigraphic remains from northern Israel, both André Lemaire and Ran Zadok observe that the percentage of Yahwistic names attested from the fifth-fourth centuries in epigraphic sources (Samaria papyri, Samarian coins) is much higher than the percentage of Yahwistic names attested from the ninth-eighth centuries in epigraphic sources (the Samaria ostraca and various seal impressions).44 It might be tempting to draw similar contrasts between the fifth-fourth centuries and the third-second centuries. Based on such a broad comparison, one could leap to the conclusion that the Samarian community became more conservative during the Hellenistic era. Such a conclusion PN Phinehas is quite common in the Samaritan high priestly lineages in various periods (see Florentin, Tulida; Pummer, “Chain of Samaritan High Priests,” 149–72). 40 Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations, 257. 41 Dušek, Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions, 58. 42 The PN is thus far unattested as a Judean PN in the latter part of the Second Temple period (T. Ilan, Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity, I; Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity, III; T. Ilan with K. Hünefeld, Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity, IV [TSAJ 141; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011]). 43 MGI 24 (Phinehas); 25 ([Phine]has); 389 (son of Phinehas). 44 A. Lemaire, Inscriptions hébraïques, I: Les ostraca (LAPO 9; Paris: Cerf, 1977), 226–27; idem, “Épigraphie et religion en Palestine à l’époque achéménide,” Transeu 22 (2001): 97–113; R. Zadok, “A Prosopography of Samaria and Edom/Idumea,” UF 30 (1998): 785. Admittedly, the evidence available from the ninth-eighth centuries BCE is quite limited.
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about a major onomastic shift would be potentially misleading, however. The names available from the Persian period derive from commercial, administrative, and political contexts, whereas the names available from the Hellenistic period largely derive from a cultic setting at a different geographic location. It is not surprising that a good number of the appellations in the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions are priestly or Levitical in nature, whereas such appellations are rare, if non-existent, among the Samaria papyri and the Samarian coins.45 If one examines for the sake of comparison, the anthroponyms found within the lists in Ezra-Nehemiah, one discovers that the lists of priests and Levites contain more Yahwistic names than those pertaining to other groups.46 Similarly, the fact that the Samarian coins and papyri contain a fair number of Persian and Babylonian names is understandable, given the nature of the documentation and the larger imperial, diplomatic, and commercial setting within which the capital of Samaria functioned. Indeed, one cannot presume that all of the names in the Samaria papyri (mostly slave sales and slave dockets) are those of Samarians.47 Similarly, some allowance has to be made, for example, for the appearance of regional satraps on Samarian coins.48 One has to situate, as best one 45 A (Yahwistic) priestly name is attested on one Judean coin stemming from the fourth century, ywhnn hkwhn, “Johanan the priest” (D. Barag, “A Silver Coin of Yohanan the High ˙ Priest and ˙the Coinage of ˙Judea in the Fourth Century B.C.,” INJ 9 [1986–87]: 4–21; Y. Meshorer, A Treasury of Jewish Coins from the Persian Period to Bar Kochba [Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi, 2001], 14 no. 20; L. S. Fried, “A Silver Coin of Yohanan Hakkôhen,” Transeu 26 [2003]: 65–85, Pls. II–V). At least, some of the names appearing on Samarian coins could be those of priests (M. Mor, “Putting the Puzzle Together: Papyri, Inscriptions, Coins and Josephus in Relation to Samaritan History in the Persian Period,” in Proceedings of the Fifth International Congress of the Société d’Études Samaritaines, Helsinki, August 1–4, 2000: Studies in Memory of Ferdinand Dexinger [ed. H. Shehadeh, H. Tawa, and R. P ummer; Paris: Paul Geuthner, 2005], 41–54). The matter remains uncertain, because the coins do not label them as such. 46 Indeed, the number of Yahwistic personal names in the list is not large (Ezra 2:1–70// Neh 7:6–72). This is true of the Israelites, that is, the laity (Ezra 2:2–35//Neh 7:7–38; cf. Ezra 2:59–60//Neh 7:61–62) and even more so of the gatekeepers (Ezra 2:42//Neh 7:45), temple servants ( ; נתניםEzra 2:43–54//Neh 7:46–56), and the sons of Solomon’s servants (Ezra 2:55– 57//Neh 7:57–59). There are more Yahwistic names as a percentage of the whole in the list of the returnees with Ezra (Ezra 8:1–14, 18–19). Joel Weinberg (The Citizen-Temple Community [JSOTSup 151; Sheffield: JSOT, 1992], 80–91) provocatively argues that neither the נתניםnor the sons of Solomon’s servants were part of the temple personnel either in preexilic or in postexilic times, but the literary contexts in Ezra-Nehemiah suggest otherwise (see J. Blenkinsopp, Ezra-Nehemiah: A Commentary (OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1988], 86–91). 47 J. Z sengellér, “Personal Names in the Wadi ed-Daliyeh Papyri,” ZAH 9 (1996): 181–89; H. Eshel, “Israelite Names from Samaria in the Persian Period (Hebrew),” in These are the Names: Studies in Jewish Onomastics (ed. A. Demsky, J. Tabory, Y. A. Raif, and E. D. Lawson; Ramat Gan: Bar Ilan University, 1997), 181–89. 48 L. M ildenberg, “Yĕhûd und šmryn: Über das Geld der perischen Provinzen Juda und Samaria im 4. Jahrhundert,” in Geschichte-Tradition-Reflexion: Festschrift für Martin Hengel zum 70. Geburtstag (ed. H. Cancik, H. Lichtenberger, and P. Schäfer; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1996), 119–46; Meshorer and Qedar, Samarian Coinage; idem, “Samaritan Coins in the Per-
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can, each onomasticon within its own particular geographic, social, and historical setting. It may be more prudent to maintain that the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions provide evidence of some continuity within the history of the Yahwistic community in Samaria. As in Judah, the elite was populated largely by Yahwists, but each of these communities had its own particular history and character. It hardly seems likely that Yahwism in Samaria was a late arrival or that Yahwistic Samarians were a late breakaway group from Judah. Similarly, it is not particularly helpful to view the Yahwists in Judah as completely dominated by or particularly beholden to the Yahwistic Samarians, even though Samaria appears to have been larger and more populous than was Yehud.49 Each of these provinces had its own particular cultic emphases and traits. Analysis of the proper names may bear this out. Certain names appearing in the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions are rare in Judean biblical literature, except as anthroponyms of traditional northern figures.50 The name of one of the dedicators in the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions, Ephraim, appears regularly in biblical literature as the son of the patriarch Joseph, the eponymous ancestor of the Ephraimites, the tribe bearing this appellation, the hill country associated with Ephraim, and a synonym of the northern kingdom itself.51 The association of Ephraim with the tribe of Ephraim or with northern Israel continues in the early Second Temple period (e.g., Zech 9:10, 11; 10:7; 1 Chr 9:3; 2 Chr 25:10; 28:7). But the name of Ephraim does not appear in the genealogies and lists of Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah as the proper name of any individuals from Judah, Benjamin, or Levi. The name does not appear as a personal name, to my knowledge, in any Judean extrabiblical inscriptions dating to the Iron age, the Persian period, or the early Hellenistic period. Similar things may be said of the name Joseph. The name appears in biblical literature as the son of Jacob and Rachel, the name of a tribe, a synonym of sian Period (Hebrew),” in The Samaritans (ed. E. Stern and H. Eshel; Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi, 2002), 71–81. 49 G. N. K noppers, “What has Mt. Zion to do with Mt. Gerizim? A Study in the Early Relations between the Jews and the Samaritans in the Persian Period,” SR 34 (2005): 307–36; idem, “Revisiting the Samarian Question in the Persian Period,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Persian Period (ed. O. Lipschits and M. Oeming; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2006), 265–89. On how the situation dramatically changed with the rise of Maccabean rule, see Dušek, Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions, 155–57; G. N. K noppers, Jews and Samaritans: The Origins and History of Their Early Relations (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), 212– 39; R. P ummer, The Samaritans: A Profile (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), 128–31. 50 The same holds true for the appellative Jeroboam ()ירבעם, which is attested on five fourth-century Samarian coin types, the most for any personal name (Meshorer and Qedar, Samarian Coinage, 24–25). Given that this was the name of two of the northern kingdom’s most famous monarchs, its reuse in the late Persian period is significant (Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 118–19). 51 HALOT 80b–81a. The name also appears in a few texts in a locution identifying the northern gate of Jerusalem ( ;שער אפרים2 Kgs 14:13; Neh 8:16; 12:39; 2 Chr 25:23).
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northern Israel, and the name of the northern kingdom.52 But the name Joseph only rarely appears in exilic or postexilic Judean literature as the proper name of a layperson (Ezra 10:42) or a priest (Neh 12:14). The personal name does not appear, to my knowledge, in any Judean extrabiblical inscriptions dating to the Iron age, the Persian period, and the early Hellenistic period.53 The situation is quite different with the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions. Within the Mt. Gerizim texts, the personal name Joseph ()יוסף, or more often Jehoseph () יהוסף, appears in six different contexts.54 The situation is somewhat more complicated with another famous biblical figure, Jacob. This name also appears in the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions as one of two brothers, sons of Simeon ()בני שמעון, making an offering.55 In biblical literature, Jacob functions as a patriarchal name, a synonym for the people of Israel, and a synonym for northern Israel. There has been considerable discussion about the usage of this name, like that of Israel, in some prophetic passages to refer to some portion of the people as a whole or to some portion thereof (HALOT 422a–b). In some texts in Deutero-Isaiah and Trito-Isaiah, the term may designate Judah or a particular group within Judah, such as the Babylonian deportees.56 In one passage in Lamentations (2:2), the phrase the “settlements of Jacob” parallels the “fortresses of the daughter of Judah.”57 Nevertheless, the new usage does not signal an unequivocal shift in meaning, because there are other passages in Second and Third Isaiah in which the name Jacob still relates to the people as a whole.58
52
HALOT 396b ( ;)יהוסף403a () יוסף. The PN becomes, however, very common in the latter part of the Second Temple period (Ilan, Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity I, 150–68; Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity III, 111–20; Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity IV, 88–93). 54 On the spelling of Joseph ( ) יוסףin cursive Aramaic script, see MGI 150. The spelling Jehoseph ( ) יהוסףis more common in the Mt. Gerizim texts: lapidary Aramaic script (MGI 20.2); cursive Aramaic script (MGI 52); cursive Aramaic script (MGI 53, ;)]יהו[סףcursive Aramaic script (MGI 148.2); cursive Aramaic script (MGI 203.1). 55 In MGI 22.1 the name appears in cursive Aramaic script with plene spelling ()יעקוב. 56 See L. Rost, Israel bei den Propheten (BWANT 4/19; Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1937); H. G. M. Williamson, “The Concept of Israel in Transition,” in The World of Ancient Israel (ed. R. E. Clements; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 141–60; H.-J. Zobel, “ יַעֲק ֹב/ ; יַעֲקֹובyaʿ aqōb / yaʿ aqôb,” TDOT 6 (1990): 185–208; R. A lbertz, Israel in Exile: The History and Literature of the Sixth Century B.C.E. (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2003), 376–403; J. Blenkinsopp, Isaiah 40–55 (AB 19A; New York: Doubleday, 2002); idem, Isaiah 56–66 (AB 19B; New York: Doubleday, 2003); R. K ratz, “Israel in the Book of Isaiah,” JSOT 31 (2006): 103–28; K. Weingart, Stämmevolk – Staatsvolk – Gottesvolk?: Studien zur Verwendung des Israel-Namens im Alten Testament (FAT II 68; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014), 73–84. 57 The specification is significant in light of the earlier usage in Ps 79:6–7 and the reuse of that imagery in Jer 10:25. 58 G. N. K noppers, “Did Jacob become Judah?: Assessing Israel’s Reconstitution in Deutero-Isaiah,” in Samaria, Samarians, Samaritans: Studies on Bible, History, and Linguistics (ed. J. Zsengellér; SJ 66; StSam 6; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2011), 39–70. 53
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Apart from its use to signal a patriarch or a collective ethnicity bearing his name, the appellation Jacob is used relatively infrequently in what is traditionally considered to be Persian or early Hellenistic period Judean literature.59 The name does not appear as a personal name in any of the lists and genealogies in Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah with one possible exception. 60 The name Jacob seems to be unattested in extra-biblical Judean inscriptions dating to the Iron and Persian ages, including the Elephantine papyri. The name does appear, however, in the later Wadi Murabbaʿat documents, the Masada ostraca, a variety of ossuaries, and a number of other Jewish texts. 61 In short, the appearance of certain personal names, such as Jeroboam, Ephraim, Jacob, and Joseph on inscriptions from Samaria does not seem to be accidental. The redeployment of such names suggests that at least some elite residents of Samaria identified with earlier figures in the history of northern Israel. The Samarians have often been viewed as schismatic sect, but it must be recognized that the Samarians had their own particular historical traits and traditions. 62 Approaching the Samarians as Judeans under a different name is too simplistic. Nevertheless, it must also be said that the evidence from the papyri, coins, and inscriptions suggests many lines of continuity between Samaria and Yehud in Persian and Hellenistic times. Even as some members in each community 59 The appellative does not appear in Joel, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Ezra-Nehemiah, Haggai, and Zechariah. In contrast, Judah, for instance, does appear as a PN (e.g., Neh 11:9; 12:8, 34, 36). In Chronicles the name Jacob is very rare, appearing only in two quotations from the Psalms (1 Chr 16:13, 17). The Chronicler consistently employs Israel, rather than Jacob (G. A. Danell, Studies in the Name Israel in the Old Testament [Uppsala: Appelbergs boktrykeri-a.-b., 1946]; S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought [BEATAJ 9; Frankfurt am Main: Lang, 1989]; H. G. M. Williamson, Israel in the Books of Chronicles [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977]; T. Willi, Juda–Jehud– Israel: Studien zum Selbstverständnis des Judentums in persischer Zeit [FAT 12; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1995]; L. C. Jonker, Defining All-Israel in Chronicles: Multi-levelled Identity Negotiation in Late Persian-period Yehud [FAT 106; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016]). 60 In the Simeonite lineages (1 Chr 4.36), a person with the name Jaaqobah ( )יעקבהappears (with a hypocoristic ending (M. Noth, Die israelitischen Personnamen im Rahmen der gemeinsemitischen Namengebung [BWANT III.10; Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1928], 27–28, 38, 197 no. 699; R. Zadok, The Pre-Hellenistic Israelite Anthroponymy and Prosopography [OLA 28; Leuven: Peeters, 1988], 154–56). 61 Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations, 66. 62 J.-D. Macchi, Les Samaritains: histoire d’une légende: Israël et la province de Samarie (MdB 30; Geneva: Labor et Fides, 1994); I. Hjelm, The Samaritans and Early Judaism (JSOTSup 303; Copenhagen International Seminar 7; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 2000); idem, Jerusalem’s Rise to Sovereignty: Zion and Gerizim in Competition (JSOTSup 404; London: T&T Clark, 2004); J.-F. Faü and A. D. Crown, Les Samaritains: rescapés de 2,700 ans d’Histoire (Paris: Maisonneuve et Larose, 2001); G. N. K noppers, “In Search of Postexilic Israel: Samaria after the Fall of the Northern Kingdom,” in In Search of Preexilic Israel (ed. J. Day; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2004), 150–80; idem, Jews and Samaritans, 18–168; I. Cornelius, “A Tale of Two Cities,” in Texts, Contexts and Readings in Postexilic Literature (ed. L. C. Jonker; FAT II/53; Tübingen: Mohr-Siebeck, 2011), 213–37.
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may have been emphasizing distinctions between the two groups, the material evidence indicates that Yahwists in the two adjacent provinces possessed many common traits. The overlap in Yahwistic names and in Hebrew names is particularly noteworthy. The reuse of traditional Levitical and priestly names, such as Levi, Amram, Phinehas, Abishua, and Eleazar demonstrates that the Samarians, like the Judeans, construed their identity, at least in part, by recourse to traditions about and figures drawn from Israel’s classical past. The avoidance of the use of the Tetragrammaton in the third-to-second century BCE Mt. Gerizim dedicatory inscriptions, especially those written in the cursive Aramaic script, is striking. The preference for the use of “God” ( )אלהאor the “Lord” ()אדני over the use of “the LORD” ()יהוה, is important, because the same preference as a religious phenomenon to protect the sanctity of the personal name of the God of Israel occurs in the development of early Judaism. Such parallels between the two communities are all the more interesting, because other material evidence from the province of Samaria, limited though it is, points to an overlap in cultural tradition with Yehud during the late Persian and early Hellenistic periods.63 The epigraphic (onomastic) evidence from Mt. Gerizim, dating mostly to the third and second centuries B.C.E., shows that the religious overlap between the Samarians and the Judeans was as strong, if not stronger, in the Hellenistic period as it was in the Persian period. From the vantage point of the material remains, there is no clear indication that the two communities were moving in two opposite directions or that the two communities were drifting apart. 64
Conclusions The available material evidence underscores some strong similarities between the elites of both the Samarians and the Judeans, even as other evidence (chiefly literary) suggests that some members of communities’ elites advanced competing claims about upholding the heritage of Israel’s ancient institutions. Paradoxically, the recourse to traditional writings, the means to distinguish a particular heritage (e.g., through the reuse of particular names), and the means to honor the deity both groups worshiped (whether at Mt. Gerizim, Jerusalem, or anoth-
63 M. J. W. Leith, “Seals and Coins in Persian Period Samaria,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls Fifty Years after their Discovery (ed. L. H. Schiffman, E. Tov, and J. C. VanderKam; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 2000): 691–707; Knoppers, “Revisiting the Samarian Question,” 265–89. 64 See also B. Hensel, Juda und Samaria: Zum Verhältnis zweier nach-exilischer Jahwismen (FAT 110; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016), 195–230. For a somewhat different perspective, see Becking, “Earliest Samaritan Inscriptions,” 213–22.
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er shrine) 65 were implemented in similar ways. 66 Doing justice to the history of Samaria and Judah entails acknowledging this paradox in the history of Samarian-Judean relations.
65 On the possibility of a small Yahwistic sanctuary in Idoumea in postexilic times, see A. Lemaire, “Nouveau Temple de Yahô (IVe S. AV. J.-C.),” in “‘Basel und Bibel’: Collected Communications to the XVIIth Congress of the International Organization for the Study of the Old Testament, Basel 2001 (ed. M. Augustin and H. M. Niemann; BEATAJ 51; Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 2004), 265–73. 66 In particular, I am referring to the books that constitute the Pentateuch, but not to the Prophets or the Writings (see E. Ben Zvi, “Inclusion and Exclusion from Israel as Conveyed by the Use of the Term Israel in Post-Monarchic Biblical Texts,” in The Pitcher is Broken: Memorial Essays for Gösta W. Ahlström [ed. S. W. Holloway and L. K. Handy; JSOTSup 190; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995], 95–149; R. P ummer, “The Samaritans and Their Pentateuch,” in The Pentateuch as Torah: New Models for Understanding Its Promulgation and Acceptance [ed. G. N. Knoppers and B. M. Levinson; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007], 237–69). Indeed, in later tradition, the Samaritans viewed themselves as protectors of the Torah over against the beliefs found in the (Judean) Prophetic works (see A. M ikolášek, “The Samaritans: Guardians of the Law against the Prophets,” in Essays in Honour of G. D. Sexdenier: New Samaritan Studies of the Société d’études samaritaines, III and IV [ed. A. D. Crown and L. Davey; Sydney: Mandelbaum Publishing, The University of Sydney, 1995], 85–94).
Chapter Four
Samaritan Conceptions of Jewish Origins and Jewish Conceptions of Samaritan Origins: Any Common Ground? In Samaritan tradition, the first fundamental break between the northern and southern tribes occurs during the early history of Israel some two and a half centuries following the entrance into the land.1 The chief instigator of dissent was the elderly priest Eli. Profoundly unhappy with the prospect of supporting the very young but legitimate priest of his time, Uzzi, the great grandson of Phinehas, the elderly Eli decided to break away from worship at the central ˙ sanctuary located at Mt. Gerizim.2 Eli’s decision to establish a new system of worship at Shiloh was a momentous one, both because he had accumulated considerable clout as the one in charge of the treasury and because he enjoyed the support of his own cadre of priests and followers. Stemming from an Ithamaride lineage, Eli laid claim to the office of high priest and set up a rival altar and sanctuary at Shiloh.3 As some Samaritan sources explain things, the tribe of Judah, together with some members of other Israelite tribes, joined Eli and shifted their worship to
1 An earlier version of this paper under the same name was published in Die Samaritaner und die Bibel: historische und literarische Wechselwirkungen zwischen biblischen und samaritanischen Traditionen (ed. J. Frey, U. Schattner-Rieser, and K. Schmid; SJ 70; StSam 7; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2012), 81–118. The present version updates and slightly revises the older piece. 2 It is of no small importance in Samaritan lore that Phineh as was awarded an eternal cov˙ enant of priesthood by the deity (Num 25:12–13). 3 See, e.g., E. N. Adler and M. S éligsohn, “Une nouvelle Chronique Samaritaine,” REJ 44 (1902): 205. Yet, the circumstances leading up to the action are, as we shall see, more complicated than this quick summary suggests (Section III.vii). The interrelated histories of the Samaritan chronicles are complex and have been the subject of intensive study. Some later chronicles, such as that published and translated by Adler and Séligsohn draw upon, develop, augment, and occasionally differ from earlier chronicles, A. D. Crown, “New Light on the Inter-Relationships of Samaritan Chronicles from Some Manuscripts in the John Rylands Library,” BJRL 54 (1971–72): 282–313; idem, “New Light on the Inter-Relationships of Samaritan Chronicles from Some Manuscripts in the John Rylands Library, II,” BJRL 55 (1972– 73): 86–111; idem, “Samaritan Literature and Its Manuscripts,” BJRL 76 (1994): 21–49; P. L. Stenhouse, “Samaritan Chronicles,” in The Samaritans (ed. A. D. Crown; Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1989), 218–65; I. Hjelm, The Samaritans and Early Judaism (JSOTSup 303; Copenhagen International Seminar 7; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000), 97–103; R. P ummer, The Samaritans: A Profile (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), 241–49.
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Shiloh at this time.4 To be sure, there was not a total collapse. Much of Israel continued to support Uzzi and worship at Mt. Gerizim, but the rift begun by Eli was never healed. Indeed, the fundamental bifurcation of Israelite worship created by Eli’s unwarranted actions became his dubious legacy to the Israelite people. It is important to stress that this commonly-recited tale does not deal directly with the question of Samaritan origins or with the question of Jewish origins, for that matter.5 Rather, the incident explains how a breach occurred, creating a basic division in ancient Israelite worship between the traditional site at Mt. Gerizim and its new rival at Shiloh. That the Samaritan Chronicles are written, however, with much later events in mind is clear in their later depiction of a shift from Shiloh to Jerusalem. As such, the narratives deal with pre-Jewish and pre-Samaritan times, but with larger implications for long term Jewish-Samaritan relations. The Samaritan story of how Judahite worship became separated from Israelite worship at Mt. Gerizim is both important and well known. The larger literary context of this story and its function within the Samaritan Chronicles are, however, less well known and deserve closer examination. In this study, I would like to look at how one medieval work within Samaritan tradition situates the era of Israel’s emergence in the land within the larger development of Israelite history. My study will argue that portrayal of Israelite history in the era of conquest and settlement in the Samaritan Chronicle, sometimes called the Samaritan Arabic Book of Joshua, displays more unity and thematic focus than is commonly recognized. 6 Although this work has been sometimes described as a 4 But Judah is not mentioned per se in the Samaritan Chronicle under view. Rather, the defectors are simply described as one group of Israelites. See Section III.viii below. 5 M. K artveit discusses the perils of employing the Samaritan chronicles to reconstruct early Judean and Samarian history, “The Origin of the Jews and the Samaritans according to the Samaritan Chronicles,” in “Durch Dein Wort ward jegliches Ding!” 2. Mandäistische und samaritanistische Tagung: zum Gedenken an Rudolf Macuch (1919–1993) (ed. R. M. Voigt; Mandäistische Forschungen 4; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2013), 283–97. 6 T. W. J. Juynboll, Chronicon Samaritanum: Arabice conscriptum, cui titulus est Liber Josuae: Ex unico codice Scaligeri nunc primum edidit, latine vertit, annotatione instruxit, et dissertationem de codice, de chronico, et de quaestionibus, quae hoc libro illustrantur (Leiden: S. & J. Luchtmans, 1848). An English translation with notes was published by O. T. Crane, The Samaritan Chronicle or the Book of Joshua the Son of Nun (New York, J.B. A lden, 1890). When the many medieval Samaritan Arabic manuscripts in the Russian National Library in St. Petersburg are published, they will enrich our understanding of the complex textual history, literary development, and content of this Samaritan Chronicle, H. S. Jamgotchian, “The Earliest Known Manuscripts of Samaritan Arabic Chronicles and Other Texts in the Russian National Library in St. Petersburg,” in Congress Volume Ljubljana 2007 (ed. A. Lemaire; VTSup 133; Leiden: Brill, 2010), 147–51. The work claims to be originally written in Hebrew (Samaritan Joshua 1), but translated into Arabic employing the Samaritan script. A caveat must be offered, however, here. The Leiden manuscript employed by Juynboll seems to have suffered a haplography (homoioteleuton). Based on an examination of fragments in the Russian National Library and of other relevant manuscripts available in European libraries, Jamgotchian concludes that the Arabic translation was made from a Samaritan Aramaic text,
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highly selective retelling of the historical books of the Hebrew Bible with Samaritan flourishes and a new chronological schema, such a description does not begin to do justice to the literary structure, content, and plot of the work. In dealing with Israel’s emergence in the land, the writers of the Samaritan book of Joshua show familiarity with the historical books of the Bible (or at least parts thereof).7 There are central narrative elements and certain details that both share in common. But the story told in the Samaritan book of Joshua is hardly the biblical story with a few new twists and turns. 8 The Samaritan account is both fundamentally linked to the stories found in Joshua, Judges, Samuel, Kings and fundamentally different from those stories. The divergences between the two in their presentations of early Israelite history include characterization, periodization, content, and relationship to pentateuchal law. Rather than constituting a midrashic retelling of the historical books of the Hebrew Bible, the Samaritan Chronicle may be better categorized as a counter-narrative to the basic storyline found in those works. This counter-narrative carefully contextualizes and nuances the results of Eli’s actions. A major interest in the Samaritan Chronicle is the assertion of a continuous era of communal solidarity and divine satisfaction, extending from the time of the entry into the land under Joshua through to the end of the reign of the last of the chieftains (Shamsham/ Samson). One cannot begin to grasp the force of the story of the Elide defection without appreciating the Samaritan construction of the centuries leading up to the time of Uzzi and Eli. In what follows, my study will proceed in three steps. Beginning with a brief overview of the legislation in the Jewish and Samaritan Pentateuchs pertaining to centralization, I shall briefly review the manner in which the Former Prophets explain the long delay in the implementation of the centralization mandate. In this short survey, special attention will be paid to how the biblical writers periodize history to underline the accomplishments, but especially the shortcomings, of the Israelite people and their leaders. Gaining a grasp of the issues concerning conquest, rest, and sanctuary construction in the Former Prophets is critical to understanding the alternate stance of the Samaritan Chronicle. The third section will provide an overview of early Israelite history in the land according to Samaritan perspective. In this section, special attention will be paid to how the writers of the Chronicon Samaritanum periodize history and portray the successes of the Israelite people, their political leaders, and their priests. with the translator assuming that this Aramaic text was itself based on a (no longer extant) Hebrew text, “Earliest Known Manuscripts,” 148–49. 7 To pursue all of these allusions, relectures, refutations, and other cases of reuse would require a study in and of itself. 8 The oft-cited shorthand for the Chronicon Samaritanum as the Samaritan Arabic Book of Joshua is, in important respects, misleading. Chronologically, the work begins at a point before the book of Joshua does and extends many centuries thereafter.
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In all respects, the era of entry into and inhabitation of the land represents a time of divine favor and community cohesion. The many corporate blessings Israel receives during this era illuminate the dispute between Uzzi and Eli, occurring centuries after Israel settled in the land. A few technical issues. In what follows, I will be focusing on one of the Samaritan chronicles, the fourteenth century Scaliger codex of the Chronicon Samaritanum published and annotated by Juynboll.9 My focus will be on the first 44 chapters of this work dealing with the preparations, conquest, and settlement.10 Reference will occasionally also be made to the fourteenth-century work, Kitāb al-Tarīkh of Abū ʾl Fath.11 There are some interesting textual vari˙ ants, especially in the territorial allotments, in the Samaritan Book of Joshua in Hebrew that will be occasionally noted but not dealt with systematically here.12 In dealing with the biblical materials, the focus will be on the Former Prophets, but reference will also occasionally be made to other historical writings within the Hebrew Bible.13 Finally, the textual variants between the MT and LXX ver9 Juynboll thought that the original (and shorter) manuscript of this work was translated into Arabic at the beginning or middle of the thirteenth century, Chronicon Samaritanum, 15–24, 70–85, 97–100. In dealing with later eras the Chronicon Samaritanum is selective. As such, it does not comprise a continuous chronicle from beginning to end. 10 I am inclined to follow Juynboll in his assessment that these chapters (particularly, 1–46 [middle]) predate the rest of the chronicle, Chronicon Samaritanum, 23–24, 70–74, 98. Juynboll thought that the original chronicle was compiled from a number of sources. Chapters 9–15 represented the oldest form of the text and chapters 1–8 and 16–46 were drawn from other Arabic sources. Chapter 46 (from the middle of this chapter onward) through to the end of the work were based on one of these sources and added to the chronicle last, Chronicon Samaritanum, 83–89. That is, the material dealing with Alexander the Great and subsequent eras dates to later times. 11 E. Vilmar, Abulfathi Annales Samaritani (Gotha: F. A. Perthes, 1865); English translation by P. L. Stenhouse, The Kitāb al-tarīikh of Abū ʾl Fath (Studies in Judaica 1; Sydney: Mandelbaum Trust, University of Sydney, 1985). The base of˙this chronicle, abbreviated hereafter as Abū ʾl Fath, is commonly dated to the fourteenth century CE. T he continuation of ˙ this chronicle was published by M. Levy-Rubin, The Continuation of the Samaritan chronicle of Abū l-Fath Al-Sāmirī Al-Danafī (Studies in Late Antiquity and Early Islam 10; Princeton: ˙ As with the Chronicon Samaritanum, it is hoped that careful use of the fragDarwin, 2002). ments of this chronicle available in the Russian National Library in St. Petersburg will be employed to prepare a new critical edition, Jamgotchian, “Earliest Known Manuscripts,” 149. 12 A. D. Crown provides a helpful analysis of the issues, “The Date and Authenticity of the Samaritan Hebrew Book of Joshua as Seen in Its Territorial Allotments,” PEQ 96 (1974): 79– 100; idem, “Was there a Samaritan Book of Joshua?” in Ancient History in a Modern University: Proceedings of a Conference held at Macquarie University, 8–13 July, 1993: 2, Early Christianity, Late Antiquity and Beyond (ed. T. W. Hillard et al.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 15–22. On the late date of the Samaritan Book of Joshua in Hebrew, see M. Florentin, Late Samaritan Hebrew: A Linguistic Analysis of Its Different Types (Studies in Semitic Languages and Linguistics 43; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 357–58. 13 In particular, the writer shows some detailed familiarity with sections of the Hebrew Bible apart from the Former Prophets, such as some of the Writings. In fact, a few of the genealogical details found in the Samaritan Chronicle line up more closely with those found in the biblical book of Chronicles than those found in the Former Prophets (Section III.vii).
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sions of Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings and how some of these variants may line up with the Samaritan book of Joshua is a major subject in and of itself and, as such, largely lies beyond the scope of this study.14
I. The Mandate for and Conditions of Centralization The book of Deuteronomy depicts an Israel encamped on the Steppes of Moab, poised to cross the Jordan. As part of his ostensible rehearsal of laws given earlier at Mt. Sinai, Moses delivers a variety of divine commands, which modify, go beyond, or differ from earlier laws.15 One of the most notable pieces of new legislation is the mandate for centralized worship, fundamentally affecting how Israelites are to conduct themselves in the promised land. The Deuteronomic injunctions involve both cultic unity (Kultuseinheit) and cultic purity (Kultusreinheit). Israelites are to concentrate and unify sacrificial worship at a single site, but they are also to abolish all rival cult centres in the land of Israel, whether Yahwistic or not. Such radical moves, if implemented, would transform how people would practice their daily, weekly, monthly, and annual sacred rites. I have been speaking of Deuteronomic legislation affecting national worship in somewhat general terms. In doing so, I do not wish to deny that the Jewish and Samaritan Pentateuchs differ in some small, but important respects. The books of Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy are held as canonical scripture by both Jews and Samaritans and the centralization laws are extremely important to both groups.16 Nevertheless, the Samaritan Pentateuch (SP) contains a series of small but highly significant variants from the MT Pentateuch that are critical to understanding the fundamental ways in which Samaritan tradition differs from Jewish tradition in construing the centralization mandate.17 14 In Joshua, the text of the MT exhibits expansionistic tendencies, P. K. McCarter, Textual Criticism (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986), 89; E. Tov, Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible (3rd rev. ed.; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012), 294–99. Among the LXX mss, the LXX B is somewhat shorter than the MT, even though it contains several pluses over against the MT. T he LXX B and the LXX A diverge substantially only in the city and boundary lists, J. Svensson, Towns and Toponyms in the Old Testament: With Special Emphasis on Joshua 14–21 (ConBOT 38; Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell International, 1994). 15 See B. M. Levinson, Deuteronomy and the Hermeneutics of Legal Innovation (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), and the references listed there. 16 The SP is closer to the MT Pentateuch than either is to the LXX Pentateuch. Yet, the SP and LXX versions of the Pentateuch share some readings over against the MT, Tov, Textual Criticism, 74–93. 17 In what follows, see my “Parallel Torahs and Inner-Scriptural Interpretation: The Jewish and Samaritan Pentateuchs in Historical Perspective,” in The Pentateuch: International Perspectives on Current Research (ed. T. Dozeman, K. Schmid, and B. Schwartz; FAT 78; Tubingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 507–31, and the further references listed there.
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i. The Place of God’s Own Choosing The most famous discrepancy between the MT and the SP is the variant of the Deuteronomic expression, “the place that Yhwh your God will choose ()יבחר,” as “the place that Yhwh your God has chosen ( ”)בחרin each and every relevant context within Deuteronomy.18 In both cases, there is some ambiguity in the divine injunction to the Israelite people in that a specific cultic site is not expli citly named. Centralization is mandated in considerable detail, but the specific locus of such centralized sacrifice is not given. Such an indefinite locution could be taken in different ways and was.
ii. Mt. Gerizim as a Site of National Blessing The site of Mt. Gerizim carries prestige in some pentateuchal texts. In Deut 11:29, a passage which closely precedes the divinely authorized mandate for centralization in both the MT and the SP, Israel is instructed on exhibiting proper behavior upon entering the land: “And you will pronounce the blessing upon Mt. Gerizim” ()ונתתה את־הברכה על־הר גרזים.19 In this passage, Mt. Gerizim is explicitly presented as a place of divine favor. Given the mention of Mt. Gerizim in Deut 11:29 just prior to the instructions about centralization, the literary contextualization calls attention to Mt. Gerizim as a natural candidate for the site of the divinely-promised sanctuary.20 18 The relevant texts are: Deut 12:5, 11, 14, 18, 21, 26; 14:23, 24, 25; 15:20; 16:2, 6, 7, 11, 15, 16; 17:8, 10; 18:6; 26:2; 31:11 (cf. Josh 9:27). See the discussions of M. Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School (Oxford: Clarendon, 1972), 324 [no. 1a]) and R. P ummer, “The Samaritans and their Pentateuch,” in The Pentateuch as Torah: New Models for Understanding Its Promulgation and Acceptance (ed. G. N. K noppers and B. M. Levinson; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 244–45. That the use of בחרin the SP amounts to a later sectarian change is disputed by A. Schenker, who points out that the Deuteronomistic citation of the Deuteronomic central place formula, “the city/Jerusalem that Yhwh has chosen” (e.g., 1 Kgs 8:16, 44, 48; 11:13, 32, 36; 14:21; 2 Kgs 21:7; 23:27) is phrased consistently in the perfect ()בחר, “Le Seigneur choisira-t-il le lieu de son nom ou l’a-t-il choisi? L’apport de la Bible grecque ancienne à l’histoire du texte samaritain et massorétique,” in Scripture in Transition: Essays on Septuagint, Hebrew Bible, and Dead Sea Scrolls in Honour of Raija Sollamo (ed. A. Voitila and J. Jokiranta; JSJSup 126; Leiden: Brill, 2008), 339–51. Reasoning that the Deuteronomistic writers are quoting an older text, Schenker argues that the MT lemma in Deuteronomy ()יבחר represents a later Judean (sectarian) change. He also points out that there are witnesses to the LXX, the OL, the Bohairic, and the Coptic, which support the lemma of the SP. On the complexities of the issue, see further G. N. K noppers, Jews and Samaritans: The Origins and History of Their Early Relations (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013) 184–88. 19 Spelled as הר גריזיםin the MT and in some Qumran witnesses or as הרג)י( זיםin most textual witnesses to the SP. In Samaritan tradition, the specific choice of Mt. Gerizim is also tied to the larger patriarchal blessing of Joseph (Gen 49:26; Deut 33:15). 20 On the criterion of literary (and chronological) proximity in inner-biblical and early Jewish exegesis, see I. Kalimi, Zur Geschichtsschreibung des Chronisten (BZAW 226; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1995), 18–34.
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The literary proximity between the command to assemble as a nation to pronounce the blessing on Mt. Gerizim and the curse on Mt. Ebal (Deut 11:29–31) and the later command to centralize the practice of sacrifice at a single site (Deut 11:31–12:31) would suggest to at least some early readers a connection between the two injunctions.21 One would be interpreted in light of the other, based on the assumption that the order found in the text was purposeful. That SP Deut 12:5, 11, 14, 18, 21, 26 speak consistently of “the place where Yhwh your God chose ( )בחרto cause his name to reside” reinforces this notion. Accordingly, Moses later instructs the Israelites that after they cross the Jordan, Simeon, Levi, Judah, Issachar, Joseph and Benjamin are all to stand upon Mt. Gerizim to hear the blessing spoken (Deut 27:11–13).22 There are clear indications of Mt. Gerizim’s singular status earlier in the Samaritan Pentateuch. The story of Abram’s construction of an altar at Shechem upon his arrival in the land privileges this particular site. Shechem is also the first place Jacob visits upon his return to the land of Canaan (Gen 33:18). He constructs an altar at Shechem, as Abraham did before him and there he invokes “El, the God of Israel” (Gen 33:20). Given the association between Shechem and Mt. Gerizim in Samaritan tradition, the foundational ancestral actions call attention to this special site. The Samaritan version of the Ten Words in both Exodus 20 and in Deuteronomy 5 confirms Mt. Gerizim’s central character, because the tenth commandment includes a mandate to set up stones and an altar on Mt. Gerizim (SP Exod 20:17b; Deut 5:18b).23 The version of the altar law in the Sinaitic legislation of SP Exodus 20, which closely follows the recitation of the Ten Words, also presupposes centralization. According to both the SP and the MT of Exod 20:24 (20:21 in some versions), Yhwh commands the people of Israel to build an earthen altar ()מזבח אדמה. But the formulation, which follows, differs. In the MT the text reads: “in every place ( )בכל המקוםat which I shall cause ( )אזכירmy name to be remembered, I shall come to you and bless you.” In the SP, the text reads: “in the place ( )במקוםat which I have caused ( )אזכרתיmy name to be remembered, there ()שמה I shall come to you and bless you.” The MT allows for multiple altar sites, each of which has to be sanctioned by the deity, but the SP points to one altar site sanctioned by the deity. Moreover, when speaking of “the place ( )מקוםat which I have caused my name to be remembered,” the SP alludes to the construction of an earlier altar. Within 21 I. Bewer, Techniques and Assumptions in Jewish Exegesis before 70 CE (TSAJ 30; Tübingen: Mohr, 1992), 20 (I.i.5j), 36, 103, 147, 153, 160–63, 199. 22 In MT Josh 8:30–35, Joshua builds the altar on Mt. Ebal, but reference is also made to Mt. Gerizim. 23 The texts are largely a composite of texts drawn from elsewhere in the Pentateuch, chiefly Exod 13:11a, Deut 11:29a, 27:2b–3a, 4–7, and 11:30. See the chapter on the Samaritan tenth commandment elsewhere in this book.
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the literary context of the SP, the text is alluding to the “place of Shechem” ( )מקום שכםvisited by Abram, following his arrival in the land of Canaan (Gen 12:6–8).24 As scholars have long recognized, the SP suggests that Mt. Gerizim had been selected by the deity during ancestral times. Hence, in these SP texts, the authority and status of Mt. Gerizim are enhanced. There is, therefore, significant continuity in the SP from the ancestral era through the exodus and Sinaitic periods to the time of Israel’s later encampment upon the Steppes of Moab. On these grounds, one may argue that the SP is more of a self-contained and internally coherent work than is the Jewish Pentateuch in that a single altar site is mentioned in a number of narrative and legal contexts.25 The divine favor extended toward a central sanctuary is hinted at or overtly declared on various occasions in more than a single book. Moreover, the fact that Yhwh has already chosen the site of the future sanctuary adds a sense of closure to the Pentateuch. Rather than the deity making his decision about which site should serve at some indefinite point in the future as the centre of a unified cult, the deity has already made his decision. It is simply a matter of Israelite corporate responsibility to exercise its divinely given charge.
iii. Is Timing Everything? Based on such evidence, one could easily conclude that the two Pentateuchs are strikingly dissimilar in dealing with the topic of centralization, but such a conclusion would be mistaken. There is actually much common ground between the Jewish Pentateuch and the Samaritan Pentateuch. Each authorizes the unification of worship, each advocates the overthrow of other sanctuaries, each embraces a pan-Israelite perspective on revising the ritual calendar in light of centralization, and each points forward to communal life in the land. In the chapters that follow the introduction of the centralization injunctions in Deuteronomy 12, SP and MT Deuteronomy contain nearly identical pieces of legislation, which overturn, adjust, or augment other facets of corporate life to accommodate the new way of life that the work demands of the Israelite people. The writers of Deuteronomy revise Israel’s cultic calendar, administration of justice, and national polity in keeping with the centralization mandate. These additional regulations demonstrate that the authors are quite serious about uni24 B. M. Levinson, “Is the Covenant Code an Exilic Composition? A Response to John Van Seters,” in In Search of Pre-exilic Israel: Proceedings of the Oxford Old Testament Seminar (ed. John Day; JSOTSup 406; London: T & T Clark International, 2004), 297–315 [repr. in his “The Right Chorale”: Studies in Biblical Law and Interpretation (FAT 54; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009), 276–330]; Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 209–10. 25 So also in the curses on Lev 26:31, the SP reads “I shall desolate your sanctuary ()מקדשכם and not smell the aroma of your sweet-smelling offerings,” instead of the MT’s “I shall desolate your sanctuaries ( )מקדשיכםand not smell the aroma of your sweet-smelling offerings.”
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fying Israel’s worship at one locale, because they systematically develop the practical implications of the centralization mandate they impose on the Israelite people. But, as we shall see, the straight line from Abraham to Moses in the SP is essential to understanding how the Samaritan Chronicle construes Israel’s early cultic, martial, and political actions, when the people are led by Joshua into the promised land. There is yet another important parallel between the MT and the SP versions of Deuteronomy in the formulation of centralization legislation. Given that the Israel addressed by Deuteronomy is situated outside the land, how and when is Israel to implement the radical changes in corporate worship? Precisely at what point is Israel supposed to eliminate virtually all sanctuaries in the land and bring its offerings only to the one divinely chosen site? Both works address the important issue of timing in identical ways. When the people are addressed by the deity on the Steppes of Moab, the people have not yet entered “the allotted rest” ()אל־המנוחה ואל־הנחלה, which Yhwh promised to grant them (Deut 12:9). Given this set of circumstances, it would be premature to implement the injunctions until the necessary conditions for such an implementation had been satisfied. Deuteronomy ties the timing of the sanctuary mandate to the achievement of Israelite rest in the land. When Israel crosses the Jordan River, takes residence in the territory Yhwh their God is about to cause them to inherit ( )מנחילand Yhwh grants them rest ( )הניחfrom all of their enemies surrounding them ( )מכל־איביכם מסביבso that Israel dwells securely ()וישבתם־בטח, Israel is to begin bringing everything – burnt offerings, tithes, and contributions – to the central sanctuary (Deut 12:10–11).26 The establishment of the single site (to be) chosen by the God of Israel is thus indelibly linked to the establishment of peace in the land. The achievement of such a period of stability and divinely-granted repose will fulfill the necessary conditions to implement the centralization injunctions. Such territorial security with no enemies all around is presented as a divine gift, a blessing bestowed upon the people. Granted these promises, it is no wonder that the authors speak of rejoicing “before Yhwh your God” ( )ושמחתם לפני יהוה אלהיכםby the addressees, who are to be the beneficiaries of such blessings – “you, your sons, your daughters, your male servants, your female servants and the Levite, who is within your gates” (Deut 12:12). 26 There are some interesting textual variants between MT and SP Deut 12:11. The SP speaks of the divine injunction to bring “your contributions, your freewill offerings, and all of your choice votive offerings” ()ותרמתיכם ונדבתיכם וכל מבחר נדריכם. In contrast, the MT speaks of “the contribution of your hands and all of your choice votive offerings” (ידכם וכל מבחר נדריכם )ותרמת. In this case, the lemma of the SP could be earlier, ונדבתיכםhaving been lost by haplography (homoioarkton) after either ותרמת ידכםor ( ותרמתיכםcf. Deut 12:6). More generally, see S. R. Driver, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Deuteronomy (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1895), 141–44; J. H. Tigay, Deuteronomy (JPS Torah Commentary; Philadelphia: JPS, 1996), 121–23.
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II. Conquest, Upheaval, and Delay: The Search for Israel’s “Allotted Rest” in the Former Prophets The altogether brief overview of the Deuteronomic concern with Israel’s rest sheds light on some aspects of the account of Israel’s emergence in the land in the Former Prophets. This is a long and complicated story or, if you will, collection of stories. In sum, the process of dealing with Israel’s neighbors becomes a difficult and protracted affair. At times, Israel appears as a well-unified and well-led people, who act with Deuteronomic injunctions in mind, but at other times, Israel appears as a disorganized, fractious, and rebellious people, who pay little or no heed to Deuteronomic injunctions. The many setbacks experienced by the people complicate any would-be attempt to fulfill the demands for centralization in the Torah. Three distinct periods are in view: the era of Joshua, the successor to Moses who leads the people into the land, the era of chieftains in which members of Israel’s tribes struggle both with their neighbors and with each other, and the early monarchy, in which two rivals, Saul of Benjamin and David of Judah, battle internal divisions and attempt to achieve control over Israel and Judah. It will be useful to begin with political developments before addressing cultic ones.
i. Complete or Partial Conquest? The beginning of Joshua does not hint at the political complications to come. When the people enter the Cisjordan, things begin very well (Joshua 1–5).27 Having crossed the Jordan, Israel begins its conquest of the land. With few exceptions (e.g., Achan in Joshua 7), Israel under Joshua follows the Deuteronomic mandate, defeats the autochthonous peoples and annihilates most of them (Josh 12:8; 24:11). The narrative focuses on three military forays in the central hill country (Joshua 6–9), the South (Joshua 10), and the North (Joshua 11). A list of vanquished kings and conquered towns concludes this section of the narrative (Joshua 12). With the conquest behind him, Joshua turns to the allotment 27 Most scholars view the so-called Priestly portions of Joshua (chapters 13–21) as non-Deuteronomistic. See M. Noth, Überlieferungsgeschichtliche Studien: Die sammelnden und bearbeitenden Geschichtswerke im Alten Testament (Tübingen: Max Niemeyer, 1943), 182–90; E. Cortese, Josua 13–21: Ein priesterschriftlicher Abschnitt im deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerk (OBO 94; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1990); R. Albertz, “The Canonical Alignment of the Book of Joshua,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. Knoppers, and R. Albertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 287–303; H. N. Rösel, Joshua (HCOT; Leuven: Peeters, 2011), 285–352; J. J. K rause, Exodus und Eisodus: Komposition und Theologie von Josua 1–5 (VTSup 161; Leiden: Brill, 2014), 415– 27. The issue need not directly concern us in this essay, because virtually all agree that these texts were interpolated at some point in the history of the book and so became (eventually) part of the larger presentation of MT and LXX Joshua.
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of territories to the various tribes, including the two and a half tribes, who occupy the land east of the Jordan (Joshua 13:1–21:43). This elaborate process also proceeds smoothly and without major incident. An issue does arise after the allotments are completed due to the construction of an Israelite altar in the Transjordan, but this dispute is eventually settled to the satisfaction of all involved (Joshua 22). Closing speeches and a national covenant renewal ceremony at Shechem conclude the book (Joshua 23–24). Of particular note for this study is the inclusion of completion and rest formulae at two pivotal points in the Joshua narrative (Josh 11:23; 21:43–45). On these separate occasions – at the conclusion of the three major campaigns and at the conclusion of the territorial allotments – the reader is told that the divine promises have been fulfilled and that Israel enjoyed rest from war. In Josh 11:23, the narrator declares: “Joshua took all of the land ( )ויקח יהושע את־כל־הארץaccording to all what Yhwh commanded Moses.” The stress is on fulfillment. For his part, “Joshua gave it (the land) as an inheritance to Israel ( )ויתנה יהושע לנחלה לישראל, according to their tribal divisions” (Josh 11:23). As a result, “the land was quiet from war” ()הארץ שקטה ממלחמה. The assertion in Josh 21:43 is similarly sweeping in its claims: “Yhwh gave to Israel all of the land ( )כל־הארץthat he swore to give to their ancestors” ()אשר נשבע לתת לאבותם. The difference with the earlier fulfillment notice has to do with an additional, but critical, step in the people’s historical progression: “They took possession of it and resided in it” ( ;וירשוה וישבו בהJosh 21:43). The explicit reference to the people’s successful occupation of the land, realizing Yhwh’s oath made to the Israelite ancestors, points the reader back to the land promises found in the Pentateuch. That the preconditions of national security stipulated in Deuteronomy 12 have been met is even more evident in the conclusions of Josh 21:44: “Yhwh gave to them rest all around ()וינח יהוה להם מסביב, according to all that Yhwh swore to their ancestors.” The declaration is unequivocal: “Not a single man withstood them from all of their enemies” ( ; ולא עמד איש בפניהם מכל איביהםJosh 21:44). To underscore the force of the assertion, the point is basically repeated: “As for all of their enemies, Yhwh delivered them into their power” (את כל איביהם )נתן יהוה בידם.28 In the final summary (Josh 21:45), the narrator comments on the entire conquest and settlement process: “Not a single word failed ( )לא־נפל דברof every good promise that Yhwh spoke to the house of Israel (מכל הדבר הטוב אשר־דבר )יהוה אל־בית ישראל. All of it came (true).” The fulfillment notices appearing at the end of this major section of Joshua are, therefore, extremely important, be-
28 The deliberate ab:b1a1 chiasm appearing in Josh 21:44 is found in many late biblical texts. For examples, see Kalimi, Geschichtsschreibung, 199–234; idem, The Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History in Chronicles (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005), 215–74.
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cause they signal that the preconditions for national security in the centralization legislation have been met. Considering such unmistakable affirmations about Joshua capturing “all of the land” and Yhwh granting rest to Israel from all of its enemies roundabout, the question may be raised as to why Israel did not act to build the central sanctuary at this time?29 The authors of Joshua do not directly address this issue, but some of the early interpreters did. Josephus (Ant. 7.342), for instance, thought that the Israelites were remiss in not building the sanctuary themselves. Given the clear mandate for a central site of worship (Deuteronomy 12), the Israelites should have constructed such an edifice upon taking possession of the land. I wish to return to this matter in our discussion of the Samaritan Chronicle. In any event, one should observe that there is a sub-theme in Joshua, disputing the dominant theme of a completely successful and thorough conquest. A few texts mention lands still to be conquered.30 According to Josh 13:1–6, the affected areas were situated mostly in the southeast and in the north, but the relevant passages do not speak with one voice about which peoples and territories were left un-subjugated (Josh 15:63; 16:10; 17:11–13; 19:47). Interestingly, the sub-theme of lands unconquered becomes one of the dominant themes of Joshua’s farewell address (Josh 23:2–16).31 Joshua proclaims the Magnalia Dei, but he warns the Israelites about the challenges they face in consolidating the gains they have already made and finishing the task assigned to them. The leader pleads with the gathered Israelites not to engage in sexual relations with the remaining nations, nor to invoke the name of their gods, swear by them, serve them, or worship them (Josh 23:7). Israel should continue to cling ( )דבקto Yhwh (Josh 23:8).32 Although Joshua speaks of “the rest of these nations” ( )יתר הגויםand of “these remaining nations” ()בגוים האלה הנשארים, he never identifies them (Josh 29 Indeed, one may surmise from the disparate content of Joshua, Judges, and SamuelKings that this was a point debated within the history of Judah itself. 30 R. Smend argues that such passages (Josh 1:7–9; 13:1b–6; 23; Judg 1:1–2:5, 17, 20–21, 23) indicate the work of a later nomistic Deuteronomistic editor (DtrN), “Das Gesetz und die Völker: Ein Beitrag zur deuteronomistischen Redaktionsgeschichte,” in Probleme biblischer Theologie: Festschrift Gerhard von Rad (ed. H. W. Wolff; Munich: Kaiser, 1971), 494–509 [transl., “The Law and the Nations: A Contribution to Deuteronomistic Tradition History,” in Reconsidering Israel and Judah: The Deuteronomistic History in Recent Thought (ed. G. N. K noppers and J. G. McConville; SBTS 8; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2000), 95– 110]. 31 This speech is generally considered to be a major Deuteronomistic composition. See, e.g., Noth, Überlieferungsgeschichtliche Studien, 7–8; J. A. Soggin, Judges (OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1981), 217–19. But in the larger context of the Former Prophets, the second speech of Joshua (the covenant renewal in Joshua 24) must also be regarded as relevant for literary analysis. 32 Joshua alludes to the prohibition of Deut 7:3, but embellishes it by explicitly referring both to marriage and to sexual intercourse (Josh 23:12). He also extends the original interdiction against marital unions of the invading Israelites with the native residents of Canaan indefinitely. That Israel’s conquest has not been total is all the more reason for the original in-
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23:4, 7, 12, 13). In any event, the very content of Joshua’s oration presupposes the survival of aboriginal peoples Israel was to have eliminated. In summary, the book of Joshua in the Tanakh does not speak with one voice about the important issue of conquest and the attainment of territorial security. On one level, the story is all about the stunning successes achieved by the Israelites in three lightning campaigns, enabling them to take possession of the land within only five years (Josh 14:10) and enjoy collective rest. But on another level, the book mentions unconquered lands and peoples. Indeed, both of Joshua’s last public addresses to the people are filled with foreboding warnings about the challenges that lie ahead. In his covenant renewal speech Joshua even declares to the people that they will not be able to serve Yhwh, because Yhwh is a holy and zealous God (24:19).33
ii. The Chieftains and the Early Monarchy Looking at the larger literary context of the Former Prophets, one may say that Joshua’s admonitions to the Israelites at the end of his life play an important transitional role. His pleas to the Israelites about the work left undone and about the temptations that lie ahead prepare the grounds for a new era in the Deuteronomistic construction of the past – the period of chieftains (or judges). That the metamorphosis of the triumphant Israel of Joshua to the troubled Israel of Judges is dramatic has captured the imagination of commentators for centuries. For our purposes, it will suffice to observe that this tumultuous period presupposes both an incomplete conquest and a dire need for national security. The work begins with a summary list of vanquished and unvanquished sites, organized by tribe. The Judahites and Simeonites achieve a variety of triumphs, as well as experience some notable setbacks (Judg 1:1–20). The other tribes do not fare nearly so well. Of the sites to be conquered by the northern tribes, the majority remain unconquered. Indeed, the fact that some of the most important sites in the land lie in enemy hands (Judg 1:21–2:5) undermines the assertions in Joshua about a completely successful conquest. In the parlance of the authors (Judg 2:22–23; 3:4; cf. 2:1–5), the survival of indigenous Canaanite nations serves to test Israelite commitment to Yhwh, but Israel fails the test miserably (Judg 2:2, 11–13, 17, 20–21).34 A decentralized Israel is consigned to the leaderterdiction to remain in force. But text does not specify the nations with whom Israel is not to intermarry (cf. Judg 3:5–6). 33 The contrast with the view of the Samaritan Chronicle is striking. See III.iv–v below. 34 The redactional history of Judg 1:1–2:5 is complex and much-debated. Noth sees Judg 2:6ff. as the logical sequel to Joshua 23, Überlieferungsgeschichtliche Studien, 5–11. Soggin believes that the sequel to Joshua 23 begins in Judg 2:20, Judges, 20, 41–42. Based on his analysis of the LXX and fractures within the tradition represented by the MT, A. Rofé believes that in an earlier version of Joshua, Joshua 23 was followed by Judg 3:12, “The End of the Book of Joshua according to the Septuagint,” Hen 4 (1982): 17–36. Such analyses are important in so
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ship of charismatic leaders, each of whom achieves at least some temporary success. But upon the death of virtually each major chieftain, Israel lapses. The era is thus characterized by repetitious cycles of sin, involving the worship of other gods, foreign oppression, divine deliverance through divinely-appointed charismatic and military leaders, and an eventual decline (Judg 2:6–23). Some nine major and five so-called minor judges (10:1–5; 12:8–15) from a variety of tribes rule Israel in succession (3:7–16:31). If one adds Eli (1 Sam 4:18) and Samuel to this list (1 Sam 7:15–27), as some do, the total is higher. In depicting this repetitious cycle of leaders, the authors do not intimate any positive progression in Israel’s condition over the passage of time. In spite of initial successes, Saul’s tenure is largely beset by troubles and rivalries with David. Indeed, the state of division within Israel occasions the need for a strong leader. Only after David has vanquished the remnants of the house of Saul, defeated all of Israel’s neighbors, and unified the South and the North under his command does Israel experience territorial security. Such stories of internal discord and dreams deferred explain why it is so important for David and Solomon to succeed, where all before them had failed. Having defeated all of Israel’s enemies, David oversees the transport of the ark into Jerusalem. In the Former Prophets, the “allotted rest” spoken of in Deuteronomy is definitively tied to the reigns of David and Solomon. It is after David “settled in his palace” and “Yhwh had given him rest from all of his surrounding enemies” ( ;יהוה הניח־לו מסביב מכל־איביו2 Sam 7:1) that the subject of constructing a central sanctuary emerges. The privilege is denied to David, but his aptly-named son Solomon ( )שלמהsucceeds in the task forbidden to his father (2 Sam 7:11–16). In his missive to Hiram of Tyre, Solomon speaks of the fact that Yhwh his God had “granted to me rest all around” ( ;הניח יהוה אלהי לי מסביב1 Kgs 5:18). There is in his time, declares Solomon, “neither adversary nor misfortune” (1 Kgs 5:18).35 To summarize, the construction of history in the Former Prophets involves a succession of different chronological segments, each of which is endowed with its own distinctive set of characteristics. The time marked between the entrance into the land and the achievement of rest in the land is quite pronounced. The chronological figures given in the books of Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings are text-critically diverse and subject to various interpretations, but the period of the Judges alone, according to one calculation of the biblical figures, amounts
far as they point to the existence of different ancient voices in the growth and shaping of the relevant material; but, given that our focus is on the Former Prophets as a larger literary unit, these issues need not concern us here. 35 This theme is picked up and greatly transformed in Chronicles (1 Chr 22:8–9; 22:9,18– 19; 23:25; 28:2–3; 2 Chr 6:41); see G. N. K noppers, I Chronicles 10–29 (AB 12A; New York: Doubleday/New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004).
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to some 350 years.36 In 1 Kgs 6:1 the length of time between the exodus and the construction of Solomon’s temple is set at 480 years.37 Given the presentation of various troubles affecting Israel over the centuries, one may submit that a substantial function, albeit hardly the only one, of the extensive presentation of change, upheaval, and internal dissension in the Former Prophets is to explain and defend the long delay between the people’s entrance into the promised land and the construction of a central sanctuary.
III. Conquest and Settlement in Samaritan Joshua Like the Former Prophets, the Chronicon Samaritanum devotes considerable detail to the formative events of Israel’s entry into and establishment within the land of Canaan. Unlike the Former Prophets, the Samaritan book of Joshua presents this whole era, that is, the first few centuries after Moses, very positively. The first chapter of the work, which functions as a sort of preface to the whole, makes this very clear (Sam Joshua 1).38 The time of Israel’s emergence in the land, the period of Joshua and his immediate successors, will be a story of triumph over all kinds of adversity. A regression does not begin until some two and a half centuries after the death of Moses. This assessment of the past is extremely important, because it contrasts most conspicuously with the decidedly mixed assessment of the same period in Joshua-Judges.39
i. Prologue, the Investiture of Joshua, and Balaam’s Counsel (Sam Joshua 1–5) In Samaritan tradition, considerable attention is paid to the preparations before the people set out to cross the Jordan River. In fact, the first eight chapters of the Samaritan Chronicle do not deal with the book of Joshua directly, but rather with pentateuchal stories and themes. Much of this material is selectively drawn from Numbers and Deuteronomy, but it is supplemented by many other contributions. In all respects, the transition in leadership from Moses to Joshua is both smooth and successful (Sam Joshua 2, 6). Moses informs Joshua what he needs to know to govern Israel properly and faithfully, telling him that no enemy will be able to prevail against Israel if he and the people are obedient to God (Sam Joshua 2). Accordingly, Moses sets Joshua before Eleazar the priest (literally, 36 Noth,
Überlieferungsgeschichtliche Studien, 23. So the MT. T he LXX L reads 440. 38 Hereafter, the Chronicon Samaritanum or Arabic Samaritan Book of Joshua is abbreviated as Sam Joshua. 39 Hence, as we shall see, the delimitation of eras in this work only witnesses to a partial overlap with that found in the Former Prophets. 37
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imâm) and ratifies a covenant with him.40 Overseeing the renewal of the covenant with Israel’s leadership, Moses leads a public ceremony celebrating the formal transfer of power. Recognizing that Joshua regularly served on Israel’s front lines in battles fought under Moses, Moses musters one thousand men from each of the Israelite tribes and prepares to wage war against the Midianites to retaliate for their earlier actions against the Israelites (cf. Deut 31:5). This notice serves, in turn, as an introduction to a long digression recounting the Israelite encounter with Balaam son of Beor, narrated in the book of Numbers (21–24), but expanded with elements from other sources. The narrator’s excursion into the Mosaic era serves a larger purpose in setting the stage for some prominent themes to be developed in the narration of Israel’s emergence within the land. The story of Balaam, as retold in this narrative, illustrates a perennial challenge for the Israelites, namely how to maintain corporate discipline over a long period of time and not succumb to the various temptations of living among the nations. Before his own departure from the scene, Balaam lends counsel to the neighboring kings about how best to subvert the newcomers in their midst. Divination, augury, astrology, and sorcery will not work, but seduction might.41 The strategy promoted by Balaam, based on his own bizarre personal experiences, is to weaken Israel from within, not to confront Israel directly from without (Sam Joshua 4). If Israelites could be persuaded to abandon their own deity and embrace idolatry, the God of Israel would become angry with them and punish the Israelite people (Sam Joshua 3). Rather than think of attempting to defeat the Israelite militarily, the Canaanites should think of ways by which they could entice the Israelites in whole or in part to forsake their own laws (cf. Num 31:16). The most formidable enemy Israel might ever encounter, it would seem, is Israel itself. In the retelling of the Balaam story within the Samaritan Chronicle, the Balaamite counsel to neighboring nations explains the subsequent Israelite sin at Baal-peor in which certain Israelite men have sexual relations with Moabite women, partake of Moabite sacrifices, and worship their god (cf. Num 25). It is this sin instigated by the subterfuge of outsiders that occasions divine retaliation against the Israelites and indeed threatens their very future (Sam Joshua 4; cf. Num 25:4–9). Were it not for the courageous acts of Phinehas, the results ˙ might have been entirely catastrophic. As it turned out, Phinehas’ intervention ˙ 40 This text presupposes Eleazar functioning as the successor to Aaron in the priestly line, while Joshua is charged to succeed Moses as the designated national political leader (Num 27:12–23; cf. Deut 3:27; 32:49–52; 34:1, 9). On these texts, see recently D. Nocquet, “Nb 27:12– 23, la succession de Moïse et la place d’Éléazar dans le livre des Nombres,” in The Books of Leviticus and Numbers (ed. T. C. Römer; BETL 215; Leuven: Peeters, 2008), 655–75, although I do not agree with all of his conclusions. 41 In accordance with a declaration in Balaam’s second oracle: “There is no augury ( )נחשin Jacob, no divination ( )קסםin Israel” (Num 23:23; cf. Deut 18:10–15).
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not only saved the day for Israel, but also won him a divinely instituted covenant of priesthood for the ages (Sam Joshua 3; cf. Num 25:10–13). The ensuing battle fought against the Midianites in which Phinehas participates, is not per˙ fectly executed, but it does go well.42 A large part of the Israelite success lies in the fact that the Israelite warriors resist temptation, refusing various blandishments offered by their adversaries (Sam Joshua 5).43 By means of these experiences, Joshua receives valuable first-hand experience in how best to lead the people.44
ii. From Moses to Joshua: Preparations in the Transjordan (Sam Joshua 6–12) That Joshua has absorbed the lessons taught to him by Moses the prophet is evident in the aftermath of Moses’ divinely-initiated disappearance, when a conspiracy of nations forms to exploit the perceived vulnerability of the new situation (Sam Joshua 7).45 Joshua profoundly mourns the death of his master and predecessor, but is inspired to proclaim publicly that Israel’s faith remains in the God of their ancestors (Sam Joshua 8). His presence would be constant if Israel was constant in its path of worshipful submission (Sam Joshua 8). It is at this point in the narrative that the Samaritan Chronicle joins the story of Joshua. The first eight chapters of the chronicle draw in part upon the second half of Numbers and the end of Deuteronomy, while many of the next thirty chapters, excepting some sizeable additional materials (Sam Joshua 26–37), find parallels of sorts in various parts of the biblical book of Joshua. The pattern of se42 In this passage, Phineh as serves as a military priest (and more so) in the context of holy ˙ war (cf. Num 25:7–8; Deut 20:2–3). 43 Details about such offers are not found in Num 31. 44 In the stories of Numbers 22–25 and 31, Joshua does not appear, but in Sam Joshua, Joshua serves as a leader in Israel’s campaign against Midian (Sam Joshua 5). That this is deliberate is evident in one of Joshua’s comments in response to Shaubak’s massive conspiracy against the Israelites (Sam Joshua 28). Joshua remarks that in his sixty years of waging war he had never seen anything like the letter sent by this king of the Persians. Given that Joshua reigns for 45 years (Sam Joshua 39), Joshua’s military exploits must have preceded his becoming national leader. In Samaritan Joshua, the transition from Moses to Joshua is marked by Joshua’s successful imitation of Moses’ leadership skills. The transition from one to the other is carefully planned and executed. Because Moses has diligently trained his successor and this successor has already proven himself in a time of crisis, Moses is at liberty at the end of his life to focus on other matters. The narration of Moses’ last days and final blessings (Sam Joshua 6) has, therefore, a clear prospective function within the larger context of the work and is directed toward the distant future. 45 In this chronicle, Moses is not buried by God somewhere in the land of Moab in the vicinity of Beth-peor (Deut 34:5–6). Instead, a pillar of fire descends from the heavens to separate Moses from the people and Moses disappears from their midst (Sam Joshua 6; cf. Josephus, Ant. 4.323–326). The following chapter explicitly refers, however, to his death (Sam Joshua 8).
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lection, change, adaptation, omission, editing, and addition all contribute to creating a very distinctive account of the conquest, settlement, and early history in the land. We have seen that Joshua’s first message, revealed to him by the deity, exhorts the people to remain resolutely steadfast in their obedience. The same theme is sounded, albeit at much greater length, when Joshua, having been instructed in a vision by the deity (Sam Joshua 9; cf. Josh 1:7–9), assembles the Israelites, renews the covenant with them, and exhorts all those gathered in the way forward. This speech may be compared with Joshua’s speech at the end of the biblical book of Joshua. Joshua speaks both of the divine favor that attends them presently and of the divine favor that is to come, but he also warns them of the retraction of divine favor and the disappearance of the divine presence should the Israelites prove rebellious. In that scenario, Israel will find itself without a king, without a shrine, without sovereignty, without possessions, and scattered to the ends of the earth (Sam Joshua 10).46 The people insist, however, that they will remain loyal, just as they had committed themselves to be loyal in the time of Moses (cf. Josh 24:16–18, 22, 24). Hence, the covenant renewal in the Transjordan, modeled in some important respects on the covenant renewal depicted in the time of Moses (Deut 29–31) and that depicted in the biblical book of Joshua, proceeds according to form (Sam Joshua 10–11).
iii. Crossing the Jordan and Campaigning in Canaan (Sam Joshua 13–21) In its portrayal of the taking of the land, the work parallels the book of Joshua to a significant extent, but also draws upon earlier pentateuchal themes and adds its own material. The story of the conquest, following the covenant renewal, is a huge success. Joshua oversees a corporate census (cf. Num 26), organizes the Israelite army (Sam Joshua 12), sends out the spies into the Transjordan (Sam Joshua 13), summons the people to action (Sam Joshua 14), and leads the Israelites, accompanied by the priests, the Levites, and the golden ark, in crossing the Jordan (Sam Joshua 15).47 For their part, the people take the twelve stones from under the feet of the priests to write their names upon them.48 Joshua does likewise. To give thanks for their safe passage, Joshua and Israel sing a hymn of praise (Sam Joshua 16). To commemorate the momentous achievement, Joshua erects twelve stones in the midst of the Jordan and the leaders erect twelve stones at Gilgal (Jalîl; Sam Joshua 16).49 46
Thus, recalling one of the covenant curses (Deut 28:36). Marking 2,794 years since the establishment of creation (Sam Joshua 15). 48 Based in part on Josh 4:1–3, where however no inscription takes place. Cf. Deut 27:3–8, C. Nihan, “L’autel sur le mont Garizim: Deuteronome 27 et la redaction de la torah entre Samaritains et Judéens à l’époque achéménide,” Transeu 36 (2008): 97–124. 49 Thus reconciling the conflicting strands in Josh 4:1–8, 9, 20–24. But no mention is made 47
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The conquest then proceeds unabated. The Israelites take Jericho and head further inland (Sam Joshua 17). To be sure, there are temporary setbacks and complications, as there are in the biblical book of Joshua. One is the sin of Judahite Achan, while another involves the Canaanite/Gibeonite deception (Sam Joshua 18–19; cf. Josh 7, 9), but these obstacles prove to be temporary and are overcome.50 When a conspiracy of five Canaanite kings forms, Joshua and the Israelites are up to the challenge (Sam Joshua 20; cf. Josh 10:1–27). Indeed, the Israelites being victorious, wherever they turn (Sam Joshua 21; cf. Josh 10:28– 43), manage to conquer the entire land within the space of a single year (Sam Joshua 21).51 To give thanks, the Israelites hold a celebratory feast at Mt. Gerizim (Sam Joshua 21).52
iv. Land Allotments, National Bliss, and Worship at Mt Gerizim (Sam Joshua 22–25) Having secured the entire land, the Israelites enter a new stage of their history – that of land allotment and distribution among the ten tribes (Sam Joshua 21). The allocation of the Levitical towns follows (Sam Joshua 22). A similar procedure is then implemented for the two and one half tribes in the Transjordan, except that Joshua appoints a cadre of leaders to oversee internal Israelite affairs in this region (Sam Joshua 22–23). With the various territorial allotments and settlements in place, Joshua builds a temple for the tabernacle on the summit and installs the tabernacle, attended by the priests and Levites, within it (Sam Joshua 24).53 of sacrifices upon an altar – see the chapters on Josephus’ version of the altar laws and his reworked version of Joshua, as well as the chapter on the Samaritan tenth commandment elsewhere in this volume. 50 Indeed, the sin of Achan itself, while very serious, does not follow any Israelite defeat at Ai (Sam Joshua 17–18). 51 By comparison, Caleb’s speech in Josh 14:6–12 implies a stretch of five years for the conquest. 52 In MT Joshua (8:30–35; cf. LXX Josh 9:2a–f) the altar is built at Mt. Ebal, following the capture of Jericho and Ai. In the Samaritan chronicle (21), a celebratory feast with sacrifices offered by Eleazar occurs, as one would expect, after the conquest is complete (cf. Josephus, Ant. 5.69–70). On the material in biblical Joshua, see the essay on the Samaritan tenth commandment elsewehere in this volume. 53 Juynboll translates “Aedificavit etiam Templum in vertice Montis benedicti,” Chronicon Samaritanum, 158 (with comments on p. 261). Crane renders the Arabic haykalu r-rabbi as a synagogue, but does not explain his translation, Samaritan Chronicle, 68. As G. Rubio points out (personal communication), the term haykal ultimately goes back to Sumerian e2-gal, which means “big house” and was used for both “temple” and “palace.” The word was borrowed by Akkadian as ekallu (which also means “temple” or “palace”). From Akkadian it passed to Hebrew and Aramaic (particularly Syriac), with the same double designation of “palace” and “temple.” From Aramaic the term passed on into Arabic with the meaning “large building/structure,” S. Fraenkel, Die aramäischen Fremdwörter im Arabischen (Leiden: Brill, 1886), 274–75. R. P. A. Dozy has the same understanding of haykal as does Fraenkel: “désigne
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It must be observed that there is a clear continuity in Samaritan tradition between the age of Israel’s encampment on the Steppes of Moab and the age of Israel’s emergence in the land. The transition from one to the other is both productive and successful.54 In Samaritan tradition, there is a seamless transition from death of Moses and the entry into the land to the establishment of a central sanctuary at the “Mount of Blessing” (Deut 11:29–30; 27:11–13). The Israelites have followed the Deuteronomic script very well. They have remained faithful, resisted temptation, and successfully captured the entire land. Having become permanently settled as a nation, as individual tribes, as families, and as individuals (Sam Joshua 24), the Israelites observe centralized worship at Mt. Gerizim. The people enjoy peace and tranquility within their land. As for Joshua, he keeps to a regular regimen and apportions his weekly schedule as follows: one day to taking counsel with the priest Eleazar, one day spent with the erudite, one day meeting with the chieftains, one day dedicated to his own affairs, and three days and nights dedicated to the Torah (Sam Josh 24; cf. Josh 1:7–9). We have seen that there is a sub-theme in the biblical book of Joshua dealing with unconquered lands and the nations that remain.55 In line with this subtheme, one finds the renewal and extension of Deuteronomic injunctions against intermarriage with the autochthonous peoples (Josh 23:2–16). The sub-theme of peoples and lands unconquered in Joshua becomes a major theme in Judges. But in the Samaritan book of Joshua, there are no lands or peoples left to be conquered.56 The Israelites do not suffer any harassment, molestation, or rebellion from the nations, because their surrounding enemies were now far removed from them, dispersed far and wide (Sam Joshua 25). As opposed to the situation depicted in Joshua-Judges, intermarriage is thus not an issue. Enjoying rest and tranquility for a period of some twenty years, the Israelite offer sacrifices and worship Yhwh whenever such worship is expected of them. In accordance with the dictates of Deuteronomy 16, the Israelites observe the three annual pilgrimdans l’origine tout qui est colossal, d’une grandeur ou d’une étendue extraoirdinaire,” Supplément aux dictionnaires arabes (vol. II; Leiden: Brill, 1881), 783. To be sure, Samaritan sources sometimes use the terms haykal and kanīsa in different senses, R. P ummer, “The Mosaic Tabernacle as the Only Legitimate Sanctuary: The Biblical Tabernacle in Samaritanism,” in The Temple of Jerusalem: From Moses to the Messiah: Studies in Honor of Professor Louis H. Feldman (ed. S. Fine; BRLA 29; Leiden: Brill, 2011), 129–30. Yet, contextually Joshua’s construction of a large haykal most naturally would mean constructing some sort of edifice for the tabernacle. 54 From a canonical standpoint, there are, of course, critical differences. Only the Pentateuch dealing with the eras preceding the conquest of the land is regarded as authoritative scripture, whereas the Samaritan literature dealing with the times of Joshua and his successors is not. 55 See Section II.i above. 56 Things are more complicated, however, in some witnesses to the elusive (and late) Samaritan book of Joshua in Hebrew. Some manuscripts speak of certain lands left to be conquered, but these manuscripts do not speak with a single voice, Crown, “Date and Authenticity,” 305–9.
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age feasts. In accordance with Deuteronomic centralization legislation (Deut 12:7, 12, 18) and the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal legislation (Deut 27:6–7), the Israelites rejoice before God (Sam Joshua 25).57
v. The Challenge by Shaubak and the Giants Thwarted (Sam Joshua 26–37) In the context of this particular analysis, it is not necessary to discuss at any length the excursive plus in the Samaritan Chronicle dealing with the foreign conspiracy led by Shaubak the son of Hâmam and grandson of Rʾawân, the king of the Persians (Sam Joshua 26–36).58 Four comments will suffice about the incorporation and reworking of this legendary material.59 First, the challenge posed Shaubak, his thirty-six allies, and their paranormal weaponry represents a potentially catastrophic threat to the state of affairs established under Jo shua. 60 In this respect, the presentation of the threat posed by Shaubak and his many confederates may be compared with the external threats posed by outsiders in the biblical book of Judges. In both cases the external challenge occurs after Israel is settled in the land. In the Chronicon Samaritanum, however, the massive threat occurs in the latter part of Joshua’s tenure. During the reigns of his nine successors, no such terrible menace appears. In fact, the tenures of his nine successors are remarkably successful (Sam Joshua 40). 61
57 The theme is quite important in the theology of Deuteronomy (12:7, 12, 18; 14:26; 16:11, 14, 15; 26:11; 27:7), G. Braulik, “Die Freude des Festes: Das Kultverständnis des Deuteronomium – die älteste biblische Festtheorie,” in Leiturgia, Koinonia, Diakonia: Festschrift für Kardinal Franz König zum 75. Geburtstag (ed. R. Schulte; Vienna: Herder, 1980), 127–79; G. Vanoni, Literarkritik und Grammatik: Untersuchung der Wiederholungen und Spannungen in 1 Kön 11–12 (Arbeiten zu Text und Sprache im Alten Testament 21; St. Ottilien: EOS, 1984), 176–80. 58 In Sam Joshua 37, his genealogy is extended all the way back to Put the son of Ham the son of Noah. On the name, compare Shobach ( )שובךin 2 Sam 10:16, 18 and Shopach ( )שופךin the parallel of 1 Chr 19:16, 18, a commander in the Aramean coalition arrayed against David, Knoppers, I Chronicles 10–29, 717. 59 As R. Boid points out (cited in Jamgotchian, “Earliest Known Manuscripts,” 148–49), this may be one of the latest, if not the latest, sections added to this part of the Chronicle. The monarchs are all Iranian in character and the mention of Armenia in the same category as Azerbaijan, Kurdistan, and Persia is telling. The editing of the story reflects the period in which Byzantium and Persia were at odds. 60 Juynboll, Chronicon Samaritanum, 263–71; m. Sot ah 8.1.42b; Crown, “Samaritan ˙ Shaubak may be found in Abū Book of Joshua,” 15–22. Similar legendary material about ʾl Fath 17,6–27,14, along with editorial comments (Abū ʾl Fath 22,7–8; 27,14). On the general, ˙ exclusive, dependence of Abū ʾl Fath upon the Chronicon ˙ but not Samaritanum, see Juynboll, ˙ “Samaritan Chronicles,” 243–54. Chronicon Samaritanum, 33–35; Stenhouse, 61 This underscores again that one has to distinguish the content, structure, plot, and themes of the Former Prophets from those of the Chronicon Samaritanum, even though the former is employed by the latter as a source.
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Second, the exchange of letters between Shaubak and Joshua reveals an Israelite leader undeterred by the threat of overwhelming numbers and uncommon supernatural force. Third, the beginning of the Israelite response under Joshua comports with the martial legislation of Deuteronomy 20. The designated priest (Deut 20:2), who goes forth to the tabernacle and blesses the people is none other than Eleazar, and his son Phinehas sounds the trumpets for battle (Sam ˙ Joshua 33).62 Fourth, the dramatic Israelite victory against all odds, which recalls the divine warrior’s intervention in the exodus, confirms the counsel delivered by Balaam to his allies among the kings of the nations, namely that recourse to magic, divination, and sorcery will have no good effect against the Israelites, provided that the Israelites themselves remain loyal to the deity (Sam Joshua 34–35, 37).
vi. Multiple Indices of Divine Favor (Sam Joshua 38–39) The corporate success enjoyed by the Israelites continues all the days of Joshua, who rules for some 45 years (Sam Joshua 39).63 An emphasis is placed on conformity of communal life to the dictates of the Torah during the course of his tenure. The era takes on a variety of idyllic qualities. The Sabbaths, new moons, and feasts are kept, and the land enjoys rest each sabbatical year (Sam Joshua 38; cf. 2 Chr 36:22–23). The Israelites tithe, dedicate their firstlings, and redeem debt slaves in due time. Family law and civil law are both enforced. Infractions, such as adultery or murder, occur, but are dealt with in accordance with pentateuchal stipulations (Sam Joshua 38). As for the Levites, they pursue their various duties, such as sacrificial preparations, copying the Torah, composing genealogies and hymns of praise, keeping watch over the aromatic incense, the temple furnishings, and so forth (Sam Joshua 38). 64 In the biblical book of Joshua, the issue of public sanctuaries is not entirely straightforward. In the section normally associated with Priestly-style editing, the tent of meeting is set up at Shiloh and is administered by the priest Eleazar, who takes up residence there (Josh 18:1, 8–10; 19:51).65 Not too much is made of 62
Cf. Num 10:9; 31:6; Josh 6:5, 20; 10:6. A number is not given in MT Joshua. Josephus (Ant. 5.117–118) lists the figure as 25, as do most Samaritan sources. Abū ʾl Fath (36,1–2) is aware of the discrepancy, P. L. Stenhouse, “Samaritan Chronology,” Proceedings˙ of the First International Congress of the Société d’Études Samaritaines, Tel Aviv, April 11–13, 1988 (ed. A. Tal and M. Florentin; Tel-Aviv University: Chaim Rosenberg School for Jewish Studies, 1991), 178. In Seder Olam Rabba (12) the figure is 28 years. 64 It is interesting that many of these duties resemble those associated with the Levites in late biblical sources (e.g., 1 Chr 6, 9, 15–16, 26, etc.), G. N. K noppers, “Hierodules, Priests, or Janitors? The Levites in Chronicles and the History of the Israelite Priesthood,” JBL 118 (1999): 49–72. 65 See also 1 S am 1:3–4, 9, 24; 2:14; 3:21; 4:3, 12. 63
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this fact in the context of the tribal allotments, although it is from this site that Eleazar and Joshua assign the Levites their own towns and common grounds ( ;מגרשיםJosh 21:1–48). This means that in the book of Joshua, the nation convenes at Shechem in the so-called Deuteronomistic portions of the work (MT Josh 8:30–35 [LXX Josh 9:2a–f]; 24:1–32; cf. 17:7; 20:7; 21:21), but in Shiloh in the so-called Priestly sections. In the first case having to do with Shechem, the Levitical priests and the ark of the covenant are present (Josh 8:33–34). In the second national convocation at Shechem, which concludes the book, mention is made of a “shrine of Yhwh” (( ;מקדש יהוהJosh 24:26).66 It is in this context, that “Joshua wrote these words in a scroll of the torah of God and took a great stone and set it up there under the oak, which was by the sanctuary of Yhwh” (Josh 24:26). 67 No attempt is made, to my knowledge, by the editors of the book to reconcile these contrasting data. 68 This situation stands in contrast with the Samaritan Chronicle. There (Sam Joshua 38), no sacrifice is offered during the rule of Joshua, except at the altar on the Blessed Mount. The sanctuary at Mt. Gerizim enjoys the active and exclusive support of all the tribes.
vii. The Successes of Joshua’s Successors (Sam Joshua 40) Before Joshua dies, he convenes all Israel and ratifies a covenant with them to continue to observe the dictates delivered by the prophet Moses. In this, the Samaritan book of Joshua agrees with its biblical counterpart (Joshua 24). But in the Samaritan Chronicle, Joshua oversees his own succession. After selecting twelve capable leaders from the congregation of Israel, Joshua casts lots to determine his heir. The lot falls upon Abîl from the tribe of Judah.69 Like his predecessor, Abîl proves faithful and is victorious in battle. Following Abîl’s death, Tarfîʾa of Ephraim takes the helm and is likewise steadfast in exercising his responsibilities. That the author has the era of Judges in his sights is evident in the manner he introduces this succession and in the way he ends it. All told, there are nine political leaders, who rule Israel following the rule of Joshua, the last of which is Shamsham, that is, Samson (Sam Joshua 40). As in the biblical book of Judges, the end of this section finds Israel for a time with no one principal leader (Judges 17–21; cf. Sam Joshua 41). The succession of chieftains in the two works may be outlined as follows.70 66
So the MT. T he LXX of Josh 24:1 has Shiloh. So the MT (lectio difficilior). Instead of מקדש יהוה, “sanctuary of Yhwh,” the LXX reads apenanti kyriou, “opposite/before the Lord.” 68 The Samaritan chronicle lacks the statement about Joshua writing “these words in a scroll of the torah of God,” perhaps because such a claim could potentially undermine the sanctity of the Pentateuch itself. 69 To be compared with Othniel the Judahite in Judg 3:7–11. 70 Other Samaritan chronicles differ from the Chronicon Samaritanum to a significant 67
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Succession
Samaritan Chronicle
Judges
1.
Abîl
Othniel
2.
Tarfîʾa
Ehud
3.
PN
Shamgar
4.
PN
Deborah
5.
PN
Gideon
6.
PN
Abimelech
7.
PN
Tola
8.
PN
Jair Jephthah Ibzan Elan Abdon
9.
Shamsham
Samson
Gap
Gap
(Sam Joshua 41)
(Judges 17–21)
Yet, the writer of the Samaritan Chronicle casts this time very differently from the schema that one finds in the Former Prophets. To begin with, this is not a separate period as it is in the Deuteronomistic work, but rather one part of a larger sanitized era characterized by divine grace and national well-being. There is no single event or person that tarnishes the record of the people during these centuries. Since Joshua’s nine successors rule for 215 years, and Joshua rules for 45 years, the total in this chronology comes to 260 years. In Samaritan tradition, these two and a half centuries constitute an era of divine favor (Rahūta).71 The ˙ passage of a sojourning Israel to a landed Israel goes extremely well. extent on the number and sequence of Joshua’s successors. Abū ʾl Fath 8 lists the following ˙ Judg 3:15), Hmr (cf. thirteen successors: Nathaniel (cf. Othniel; Judg 3:9), Yawat (cf. Ehud; Shamgar; Judg 3:31), Farak (Barak; Judg 4:6), Gideon (Judg 6:1), Abimelech (Judg 9:1), Tola (Judg 10:1), Jair (Judg 10:3), Jephthah (Judg 11:1), Abidam (cf. Ibzan; Judg 12:8), Nathaniel (cf. Elon; Judg 12:11), Antiel (cf. Abdon; Judg 12:13), and Samson (Judg 13:24). Stenhouse provides an overview and brief discussion, “Samaritan Chronology,” 177–78. 71 The period seems to begin with the entry into the land under Joshua in Samaritan Joshua. This 260 year period may also be regarded in some Samaritan sources as one part of a larger era of divine satisfaction (Rahūta), the days of favor ()ימי הרצון, that begin with Moses ˙ and the exodus, P. L . Stenhouse, “Chronology,” in A Companion to Samaritan Studies (ed. A. D. Crown, R. Pummer, and A. Tal; Tübingen: Mohr-Siebeck, 1993), 53–55; F. Dexinger, ‘“Der Prophet wie Moses’ in Qumran und bei Samaritanern,” in Mélanges bibliques et orientaux en l‘honneur de M. Mathias Delcor (ed. A. Caquot, S. Légasse & M. Tardieu; AOAT 215;
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The situation in the Samaritan Chronicle may be contrasted with that of the Judges in biblical lore. As often noted, the era of the chieftains in the Former Prophets is characterized by fascinating diversity in religious practices. Mention has already been made of the repeated complaint in Judges that Israel served the Baals, Ashtaroth, and so forth.72 Various cultic sites dotted the landscape and sacrifices were offered at multiple places (e.g., Judg 2:5, 19; 6:23–32; 9:3–4, 46; 11:15, 31; 13:19; 18). Among the notable sites associated with shrines or temples are Shechem (Judg 9:3–6, 46), Dan (17:1–18:31), Shiloh (18:31; 21:12, 19), and Bethel (20:18, 23, 26–28). The last site is home to the ark of the covenant and the place at which the priest Phinehas the son of Eleazar officiates (Judg 20:18, 23, ˙ 26–28; 21:2–4; cf. Josh 24:33). The end of Judges portrays further decline (Judges 17–21), as witnessed by the stories of the rape of the Levite’s concubine (19:1–30) and the ensuing civil war targeting Benjamin (20:1–21:25). The near anarchy during the latter part of the Judges era occasions the repeated editorial comment: “In those days there was no king in Israel and each person did what was right in his own eyes” (Judg 17:6; 18:1; 19:1; 21:25).73 But even with the advent of Saul’s kingship, Israel does not receive its promised rest. Israel is beset by a fundamental division between Israel and Judah, between northern and southern tribes. As the rivalry between Saul and a young David grows, so does the internecine turmoil in the land. In Samaritan tradition, the same epoch is viewed differently, although lineaments of the older presentation are still visible. There is neither dissent nor devolution, much less any destructive tendencies toward civil war. On the contrary, Shamsham (Samson) fares better than any of his nine predecessors do (Sam Joshua 39). The era is characterized by a unity of political, moral, and cultic purpose. The people remain unified around the one central sanctuary chosen by Yhwh, repeatedly spoken of in the laws of Moses (Sam Joshua 38–40). Rather than dealing with a multiplicity of Yahwistic and non-Yahwistic shrines, the worship of Yhwh and the worship of other gods, and the co-existence of different sacerdotal houses serving various shrines, one is dealing with the worship of Yhwh at one shrine by one undivided people. The tabernacle at Mt. Gerizim is served by one priestly house, which oversees a single hereditary succession of Aaronide priests. In the era affected, one witnesses the transfer of sacerdotal prerogatives through the generations in an unbroken line that stretches from Eleazar and Phinehas to Uzzi several generations later (Sam Joshua ˙ Kevelaer: Butzon & Bercker, 1985), 97–111; idem, Der Taheb: ein “messianischer” Heilsbrin ger der Samaritaner (Salzburg: O. Müller, 1986); idem, “Rh wth,” in Companion to Samaritan ˙ Studies, 202–4. 72 M. Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School (Oxford: Clarendon, 1972), 320 (nos. 1, 2a), 321 (no. 6). 73 This only becomes an issue in the Samaritan Chronicle in the time of the priest Uzzi, because there is for a time no major political potentate in office.
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40).74 For the sake of convenience, the following outline of priestly succession in Samaritan sources is compared with that found in late biblical literature.75 76 77 78 79 Samaritan Tradition
Ezra 7:1–5
1 Chr 5:27–41
Levi ( )לוי
Levi ( )לוי
Qohath ()קהת
Qohath ()קהת
Amram ()עמרם
Amram ()עמרם Aaron ()אהרן
Aaron ()אהרן
Eleazar ()אלעזר
Eleazar ()אלעזר
Eleazar ()אלעזר
Phinehas ()פינחס ˙ Abisha ()אבישע
Phinehas ()פינחס ˙ Abishua ()אבישוע
Phinehas ()פינחס ˙ Abishua ()אבישוע77
Buqqi ()בקי
Buqqi ()בקי
Uzzi ()עזי
Uzzi ()עזי
Aaron
()אהרן76
Shashai ()ששי78 Bohqi ()בחקי ˙ Uzzi ()עזי79
Looking at the larger progression of events in the Samaritan book of Joshua, one may discern a certain narrative logic. If Judges disestablishes the time of Joshua as a formative era in which Israel becomes peaceably settled in its land, the Samaritan Chronicle reestablishes the time of Joshua as the formative era in which Israel finds its promised rest. If Judges casts doubt on the viability of the settlement era as the appropriate context for centralization, the Chronicon Samaritanum confirms that the settlement era was the appropriate context for centralization to occur. To paraphrase the words of the Samaritan Chronicle, success does not simply lie in the achievements of the present leader, but also in the achieve74 The number of generations, but not the full sequence of names, appears in the Samaritan book of Joshua (40). The names of some priests have to be supplied from other Samaritan sources, most importantly the Tulida ()התולדה, M. Florentin, Tulida – A Samaritan Chronicle: Text, Translation, Commentary (Hebrew) (Jerusalem: Yitzhak Ben Zvi, 1999). 75 Indeed, the essential agreement of the Samaritan and Jewish sources on this succession insofar as it extends beyond the era covered by the Pentateuch is itself both theologically and historically important. 76 The Tulida mentions Moses ( )משהin connection with Aaron, but does not list him as a priest (6א28). Similarly, Abū ʾl Fath 7, 187; Adler-Séligsohn 1, 201/13. ˙ 77 The name Abishua appears elsewhere in 1 Chronicles (8:4) and in Ezra (7:5); but, aside from the references listed here, this particular descendant of Phinehas is not otherwise attest˙ ed in the Hebrew Bible. 78 A figure not attested in the relevant priestly lineages of the Hebrew scriptures. 79 So the Tulida 6ב36; Abū ʾl Fath 39, 188; Adler-Séligsohn 1, 205–6/17–18. Chapter 40 of ˙ Sam Joshua gives the summary number of five priests in succession in the context of discussing the death of Phinehas, but does not list (except for Uzzi) the exact members of that succes˙ sion.
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ments of those who follow him (Sam Joshua 39). That Joshua’s nine successors maintain his policies and those of Moses before him consolidates their collective gains and accomplishments. In this epoch, political and religious authorities not only coexist, but also actively cooperate for the greater good of the community. We have seen that the Samaritan book of Joshua is clearly indebted to the Former Prophets, even as the work takes issue with many of its central tenets. The question may be raised, therefore, as to why the author of this work profoundly rewrites the history of this entire era. If the writer thought that Eli’s error was the only critical issue in explaining a fundamental rupture in the history of inner-Israelite relations, he could have begun with, or at least focused upon, documenting this blunder. Instead, he reworks the entire period stretching from the time of Moses’ death through the time of the early monarchy. Evidently, the author’s concern was with more than illustrating or explaining why Jews worshiped at a different site than Samaritans did. Quite the contrary, much of the depiction in this Samaritan Chronicle accentuates the positive. The uniformly complimentary construction of the settlement period refutes much of the biblical presentation by creating a counter-narrative to it. Freely reworking and supplementing the biblical material, it establishes a highly encouraging paradigm with which the readers of the new work might identify. The force of the argument is unmistakable. The idyllic images of tranquility in the land, conformity with pentateuchal statutes, centralized worship at Mt. Gerizim, and inner-Israelite harmony affirm the viability, normativity, and historical priority of northern Israelite institutions. But the consequences of such a uniformly positive presentation are also, in some respects, negative. One effect of portraying these centuries as a pivotal period of divine grace and Israelite contentment is to impugn anyone who would choose to deviate from the norm.80 If the time of Joshua and his immediate successors constitutes an unprecedented time of national solidarity, peace, and prosperity, any person, family, or tribe charting a different course would inevitably be cast in a poor light.
viii. The Advent of Divine Disfavor and Eli’s Error (Sam Joshua 41–44) The era of inner-Israelite unity could have lasted, but of course it did not. The person(s) breaking from convention is, in Samaritan Joshua, not first and foremost the priest Eli, the contemporary and cousin of the reigning priest Uzzi. Rather, the era of divine disfavor in the post-Samson phase of Israelite history stems from the loss of internal Israelite solidarity, commitment, and discipline 80 A similar rhetorical strategy is evident in the Chronicler’s handling of the northern secession following his depiction of the glorious united monarchy, G. N. K noppers, “Rehoboam in Chronicles: Villain or Victim?” JBL 109 (1990): 423–40; idem, “‘Battling against Yahweh’: Israel’s War against Judah in 2 Chr 13:2–20,” RB 100 (1993): 511–32.
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(Sam Joshua 41–42).81 The Samaritan Chronicle alludes to the Song of Moses – “Jacob will eat and be satisfied; Jeshurun will grow fat” (SP Deut 32:15) – to signal Israel’s internal deterioration. The work makes the argument that Israel’s decline was tied to its own lapse into unbelief and corruption (Sam Joshua 39).82 In this respect, “the books of Balaam,” discussed at the beginning of the work come back into play. The Samaritan book of Joshua cites Balaam’s counsel to explain how Israel’s neighbors successfully infiltrate the ranks of the Israelites, convincing some to join them in worshiping idols and constructing a pagan altar on a hill to the south of Mt. Gerizim (Sam Joshua 41). From this point forward, their numbers multiplied so that they in time were able to move their expanded operation to the west of Mt. Gerizim (Sam Joshua 41). Complicating matters was a temporary power vacuum due to the lack of an immediate successor to Shamsham (Samson; cf. Judges 17–21). Thus, the internal corporate discipline achieved under Moses, Joshua, and their successors seriously eroded and the geographical separation between Israel and the nations was effectively terminated. In the larger context of society, the acts of seditious agitation by some Israelites went unchallenged and unchecked by the rest of the Israelite population. Balaam’s counsel to his neighbors ironically turns out to be right. Israel is undone from within, not from without. Being slow to anger and abounding in covenantal fidelity (Exod 34:6), Yhwh does not respond to the ever-spreading disloyalty until the Israelite infidelity permeates all sectors and regions of Israelite society (Sam Joshua 41). Only then does God withdraw his presence from among the people and his light from the sanctuary upon Mt Gerizim (Sam Joshua 41). The work likens this disaster, a time of immeasurable grief and sorrow, to the day in which the first man (Adam) was expelled from the Garden (Sam Joshua 42). Uzzi, the priest in charge at the time, discovers to his horror that darkness had filled the house of God and that all of the signs of God’s favor had disappeared. It is at this point in the narrative that Uzzi chooses to hide the temple vestments and the Temple vessels in a cave on Mt Gerizim.83 Public mourning led by the Levites becomes the order of the age (Sam Joshua 42). If the preparations before the conquest are punctuated by speeches of exhortation and hymns of praise, the loss of divine favor is punctuated by a long communal lament (Sam Joshua 42). The second and fifth days of each week become designated as official days of mourning. Such twice-weekly acts of commemoration are to be observed until some point in the future in which a time of divine favor might return (Sam Joshua 42). 81
Cf. Juynboll, Chronicon Samaritanum, 293–99. Hence, Samaritan chronology distinguishes the time of Uzzi (marking 3,054 years since the time of Adam) from what follows (Sam Joshua 40). 83 I. K alimi and J. D. P urvis, “The Hiding of the Temple Vessels in Jewish and Samaritan Literature,” CBQ 56 (1994): 679–85. 82
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In Samaritan chronology, the turning point in history is thus a decisive one. Drawing from figures appearing in the Samaritan Pentateuch, Samaritans tally some 2,794 years from Creation and Adam, the first human being, to the death of Moses.84 The counting of the years after the death of Moses is marked by the years of each ruling priest, beginning with Eleazar. Because the tenures of the first five priests, beginning with Eleazar, go extremely well, the years of these officiants constitute an epoch characterized by divine grace. Even the tenure of the sixth priest in this lineage Uzzi is successful, at least at first. The positive chronology represented by the tenures of these six priests adds up to two hundred and sixty years. Hence, the time since creation tallies 3,054 years in total (Sam Joshua 40). During Uzzi’s reign things take a further turn for the worse (Sam Joshua 43).85 It is important to stress, however, that Eli’s acts of impiety do not by themselves inaugurate the age of divine disfavor (Fanūta). Rather, that age has already begun by the time that Eli and his followers break away from the central sanctuary at Mt. Gerizim. Eli’s actions are a symptom of national decline, but not the only cause of such decline. The discord that develops between Eli and Uzzi comports with the larger depiction of an internal regression in Israelite conduct. In the book of Samuel, Eli is depicted as a righteous priest, but his two sons, Hophni and Phinehas, are ˙ depicted as corrupt, disloyal, and impious (1 Sam 2:12–17). In the Samaritan Chronicle, the sons are also corrupt and incompetent, but Eli himself is cast as an incorrigible villain—ambitious, wealthy, powerful, adept in the magical arts, and seditious (Sam Joshua 43). Being a descendant of Ithamar, Eli belongs to the right tribe but the wrong branch within that tribe. The large-scale congruence between the Samaritan chronicle (Sam Joshua 43) and biblical literature, in particular the book of Samuel, may be illustrated below. For the sake of convenience, the continuation of the Ithamaride house, as intimated in the book of Samuel, is provided as well. 86 Samaritan Chronicle
1 Samuel
Levi ( )לוי
Levi ( )לוי
Qohath ()קהת
Qohath ()קהת
Amram ()עמרם
Amram ()עמרם
Aaron ()אהרן
Aaron ()אהרן
Ithamar ()איתמר
Ithamar ()איתמר ……. 86
84 This time is, of course, itself divided into different eras, some favorable and some not, Stenhouse, “Samaritan Chronology,” 175–79. 85 The number given in Sam Joshua of 361 years must be regarded as an unintentional mistake (Sam Joshua 38–39). 86 A break in the lineage of an unspecified series of generations.
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Yaphni ()יפני87 Eli ()עלי
Eli ()עלי Phinehas ()פינחס ˙ Ichabod ()איכבוד ……88 Ah it ub ()אחיטוב ˙ ˙ Ah imelek ()אחימלך ˙ Abiathar ()אביתר
87 88 In the context of the Samaritan Chronicle, Eli’s ancestry is a decisive argument against his ascendancy to high office. Even though he carries seniority as a fifty year old, Eli should have deferred to the much younger, but legitimate Aaronide heir in the line of Eleazar and Phinehas.89 His rebellion thus appears as arbi˙ trary, misguided, and immediately destructive. Having gained the backing of some dissident Israelites, Eli leaves the sanctuary and priesthood at Mt Gerizim and creates a new cultic establishment at Shiloh (Sam Joshua 43). The new sacred precinct is modeled after the sanctuary at Mt Gerizim, although he constructs only one altar and fails, at least initially, to use salt in his offerings.90 At Shiloh, Eli is joined by a young protégé named Samuel, who belongs to the Aaronide lineage. This means that Samuel’s priestly pedigree is, ironically, stronger in Samaritan Joshua than it is either in the book of Samuel, where he appears as an Ephraimite (1 Sam 1:1), or in the book of Chronicles, where he appears as a Qorahite Levite.91 Since the evidence from ˙ Abū ʾl Fath (10,45) follows Chronicles, in this case to a great extent, its sequence ˙ is presented as a convenient comparison.92
87 There does not seem to be a biblical parallel to the patronymic found in Samaritan tradition. 88 There is a break in the lineage so one cannot be sure that Abiathar stems in a direct line of descent from Eli, but some textual sources associate Abiathar with the larger lineage of Ithamar (1 Sam 22:20–23:9; 30:7; 2 Sam 8:17; 15:24–36; 17:15; 19:12; 20:25; 1 Kgs 1:7–2:35; 4:4; 1 Chr 15:11; 18:16; 24:6; 27:34). 89 Similarly, Abū ʾl Fath, 9, 41. ˙ import of salt in sacrificial and cultic settings, Salbung als Re90 E. Kutsch explores the chtsakt im Alten Testament und im alten Orient (BZAW 87; Berlin: A. Töpelmann, 1963). 91 Samuel is depicted as young devotee of Eli, whose father Elqanah hails from Ramathaim Zophim in Ephraim (Ephratah). Samuel’s training and service at the temple in Shiloh fulfills a vow made by his mother (1 Sam 1:10–28). Cf. 1 Sam 1:3–4:16; 14:3; 1 Kgs 2:27. In Sam Joshua (43), the vow is made by the father. It would seem that if the authors wished to defame Samuel utterly, they could have exploited his secular pedigree in the book bearing his name (assuming they knew the intimate details included in this text). 92 Indeed, it is quite possible that Abū ʾl Fath corrects the sequence attested in the Chron˙ found in Chronicles. icon Samaritanum toward the genealogical tree(s)
Chapter Four: Samaritan Conceptions of Jewish Origins and Jewish Conceptions 121
Chronicles93
Levi ( )לוי
Abū ʾl Fath ˙ Levi ( )לוי
[Qohath (])קהת94
Qohath ()קהת
Qohath ()קהת
[Amram (])עמרם
Izhar ()יצהר
Izhar ()יצהר95
Aaron ()אהרן
Qorah ()קרח ˙ Abiasaph ()אביסף
Qorah ()קרח ˙ Abiasaph ()אביסף
Samuel
Sam. Chronicle
Ephraim ()אפרים
Levi ()לוי
Assir ()אסיר Tahath ()תחת ˙ Zephaniah ()צפניה
Tahath ()תחת ˙ Zephaniah ()צפניה
Azariah ()עזריה
Azariah ()עזריה Joel ( )יואל Elqanah ()אלקנה Amaśai ()עמשי Mahath ()מחת ˙ Elqanah ()אלקנה
Zuph ()צוף
Zuph ()צוף96
Tohu ()תחו ˙ Elihu ()אליהוא
Toah ()תוח97 ˙ Eliel ()אליאל
Jeroham ()ירחם ˙
Nāwal
Elqanah ()אלקנה Samuel ()שמואל 93
94
95
96
Jeroham ()ירחם ˙
Elqanah ()אלקנה
Elqanah ()אלקנה
Elqanah ()אלקנה
Samuel ()שמואל
Samuel ()שמואל
Samuel ( )שמואל
97
In the book bearing his name, Samuel does service ( )משרתbefore Yhwh at Shiloh, a duty that is appreciated by God and people alike (1 Sam 2:11, 18–19, 26). Samuel’s good behavior functions as the foil to the bad behavior of Eli’s sons, whose conduct earns their father a harsh judgment oracle dooming his sons to death and his ancestral house to sacerdotal oblivion (1 Sam 2:27–34). But 93 The list appears in 1 Chr 6:18–23. The lineage of 1 Chr 6:1–12 differs in some important respects. The text-critical issues are too many to discuss here, G. N. K noppers, 1 Chronicles 1–9 (AB 12; New York: Doubleday/New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004), 416–21. 94 The names Qohath and Amram have been supplied to fill out the information included in the Samaritan Chronicle (43), to wit that Samuel was a descendant of Aaron in the tribe of Levi. 95 So 1 Chr 6:23, in line with Exod 6:18, 21–23; Num 3:19, 27; 16:1; 1 Chr 5:28; 6:2; 23:12, 18. 96 So the qere (Zuph); ketiv Ziph. 97 On the metathesis evident in Toh u ()תחו/Toah ( )תוחand the complexities of the readings ˙ ˙ my I Chronicles 1–9, 417. provided in the LXX of Samuel and Chronicles, see
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in Samaritan Joshua, Samuel’s conduct is as bad or worse than that of his mentor (Sam Joshua 43). In the Samaritan Chronicle, the actions of Eli and his followers in establishing a renegade cultic establishment at Shiloh seriously erode the solidarity of Israel. Exploiting the division they perceive within the Israelite ranks, Israel’s enemies attack the group at Shiloh, roundly defeating them (Sam Joshua 44). When Eli allows the golden ark to join the battle accompanied by his two priestly sons, the ark of the covenant is captured and his two sons lose their lives.98 That Eli and his daughter-in-law also die, upon hearing the news, is taken as evidence that divine justice has been served (Sam Joshua 44). In the books of Samuel and Kings, the Elide house continues for a time, but in the Samaritan Chronicle the death of Eli and his kin marks the termination of the Elide story.99 Of course, the Jerusalem shrine eventually replaces the failed shrine at Shiloh, but the Jerusalem shrine simply perpetuates the schismatic cult begun by Eli.
Conclusions In many popular treatments of the Samaritans, the Elide defection is seen as the critical turning point in dividing Jewish history from Samaritan history. The establishment of a sanctuary at Shiloh is a divisive act that forever alters relations between northern Israelites and Judeans, effectively creating two religions. There is some truth in this common reconstruction in that the rebellion against the divinely ordained orthopraxis at Mt. Gerizim is never reversed or surmounted. Yet, the theory also has its serious drawbacks in that it fails to do justice to the context and content of the Samaritan sources, which are not primarily concerned to explain Eli’s actions, but rather to provide a broad construction of the Israelite past, a counter-narrative to the narrative appearing in the Former Prophets. Rather than a story of incomplete conquest, societal upheaval, and persistent heteropraxis, the early history of Israel in the land is a story of God’s goodness to his people. Israel enjoys its promised rest, lives in tranquility, and worships at the divinely ordained central sanctuary. The era is not bereft of any difficulties. There are external challenges to the blessed state of 98 In biblical tradition, when the ancient palladium is eventually recovered, it is housed in Qiriath-yearim. There it remains until the time of David (1 Sam 6:21; 1 Chr 13:6; 2 Sam 6:1–19; Ps 132). 99 Part of the judgment oracle delivered to Eli consists of an announcement that Yhwh will raise up for himself a faithful priest and construct for him an enduring dynasty (1 Sam 2:35). The necessary divine patronage for the priestly functions of Eli’s lineage will cease. The oracle does not condemn Eli’s entire lineage to extermination, although his posterity will decline precipitously in the near term (1 Sam 3:11–14; 4:1–22; 22:17–19, 20–23; 1 Kgs 2:27).
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affairs established under the leadership of Joshua and Eleazar, but they are successfully and unambiguously surmounted. Within the context of this larger presentation, both Uzzi and his followers and Eli and his followers are bona-fide Israelites. Their struggle is portrayed as an inherently inner-Israelite struggle, not as a struggle between two different peoples. The importance of this consideration cannot be underestimated. The presentation in this Samaritan Chronicle may be compared with one of the views expressed in the long commentary on the fall of the northern kingdom (2 Kgs 17:24–33), which casts the postexilic residents of northern Israel as foreign settlers sent to the land as part of an Assyrian state-sponsored policy of bi-directional deportations. In later Jewish tradition, these deportees, named “Cutheans” after the name of one of the five foreign ethnic groups imported into the land, are construed as the ancestors of the Samaritans. But in the Samaritan Chronicle, both the group centered at Mt. Gerizim and the dissident group centered at Shiloh are ethnic Israelites. Even cultically, in spite of the two different sanctuaries patronized by the two groups, each shares a number of significant ethnic and religious traits with the other. Both hold the Torah to be authoritative, both embrace a shared past, and both embrace a Deuteronomic conception of rewards and punishments in the course of history. Both acknowledge that they ultimately share a common priestly heritage. That this was true for the time before Israel entered the land is totally unremarkable, because both groups share virtually the same Pentateuch. But the Samaritan Chronicle and biblical sources agree on a fundamental linear priestly succession extending from Aaron through Uzzi. This means that beyond the age represented by the traditional events at Mt. Sinai and on the Steppes of Moab, both groups affirm a virtually identical priestly succession in the land, at least for a time.100 As we have seen, the Samaritan book of Joshua speaks of some Israelites following the practices of non-Israelites, manufacturing idols, and worshiping other gods. But the work does not accuse most followers of Eli as doing so. Hence, in the Samaritan conception, three groups form among the Israelites – those who worship Yhwh at Mt. Gerizim (and have done so since the people’s establishment in Canaan), those who worship Yhwh at Shiloh (and later at Jerusalem), and those who worship alien deities at various sites (Sam Joshua 41). The distinction drawn between the Uzzites and the Elides, on the one hand, and the idolaters, on the other hand, is thus quite important. The work does not deny that the followers of Eli worship Yhwh, only that they worship him at the right place.101 Hence, on the grounds of ethnicity, genealogy, textual authority, 100 One could counter that the Samaritan writers are simply borrowing from Jewish sources to frame the history of their own priestly succession; but, assuming for the sake of argument that this may be the case, it is remarkable that they do so, rather than formulate their own lineages. 101 In this, the Samaritan work may be contrasted with the perspective found in 2 Kgs
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and some aspects of religious practice, there are many areas of overlap, if not identity. In stressing such lines of commonality between northern Israelites and southern Israelite, I do not wish to deny important contrasts between the two. We have seen that the Samaritan Chronicle parts company from the Former Prophets in its starkly different portrayal of Israel’s first centuries within the land. Both works are written with a view to the same authoritative body of texts, but each draws on these older scriptures to make diametrically opposite points. One presents a stunning series of military successes, the swift achievement of rest in the land, and a blessed nation united around a central sanctuary, while the other presents a decidedly mixed record of initial successes, subsequent lapses, failures, and lengthy delays, and finally resolution in the time of the united monarchy. Each depicts the fulfillment of the rest theology found in the Deuteronomic centralization legislation within the course of subsequent Israelite history, but in decidedly disparate eras through the aegis of disparate political personnel. In an age that valued antiquity and the weight of original precedent, one tradition attempts to trump the other tradition by claiming a much older centre of sacrificial practice.102 But in its literary contextualization of Eli’s abandonment of his post at the Mt Gerizim sanctuary, the Samaritan Chronicle avoids simply pointing fingers at Eli and his followers. When speaking of a severe Israelite decline in the era after Shamsham’s death, the author acknowledges broad corporate culpability for Israel’s own shortcomings. The problems were not simply external, but also internal. The problem was not the aliens in other lands, who could accomplish nothing even with seemingly insurmountable odds in their favor as long as Israelites remained vigilant in orthopraxis (Sam Josh 26–37). The problem lay with the Israelites themselves. In this respect, the nuanced Samaritan presentation of an internal defection may be compared with the nuanced view of northern separation from the south reflected in the biblical book of Chronicles. There, in the discussion of Hezekiah’s national Passover in the late eighth century BCE, Hezekiah sends out an invitation to all of the tribes, including the northern tribes, to participate in the festivities (2 Chr 30:1–10). Like the Samaritan writer, Hezekiah assumes the historical and theological primacy of his own sanctuary, but Hezekiah acknowledges the estranged northerners, understood to be Israelites who had survived 17:34b–40. Taking issue with the viewpoint expressed in the earlier commentary of 2 Kgs 17:24–34a, the writer of this passage implicitly speaks of the people residing in postexilic Samaria as the children of Jacob, but insists that they did not truly worship Yhwh. To worship Yhwh properly, according to the precepts of the torah, means worshiping him exclusively, Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 45–70. 102 In this respect, the Deuteronomistic work goes against the ancient Near Eastern grain in upholding the primacy of a sanctuary that is established relatively late in history.
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the Assyrian invasions, as kin to Judahites. Like southern Israelites, the northern Israelites are accountable to Yhwh. Indeed, their repentance, like the repentance of the Judahites, may win their kin exiled to other lands compassion from the God they both worship (2 Chr 30:6–9).103 The biblical Chronicler and the Samaritan Chronicler realize that in longstanding, bitter religious disputes rarely does the fault originate simply with one party. The factors contributing to breakdowns or frayed relations may be multiple and complex. In such cases, fundamental disagreements may be both inevitable and intractable. But such disagreements should not let the parties involved ultimately lose sight of what they still hold in common and what each might learn from the other. In the end, the Samaritan Chronicle’s distinctive account of Israel’s settlement in the land is as much about what northern Israelites and southern Israelites hold in common as it is about what drove these groups apart.
103 Knoppers,
Jews and Samaritans, 82–92.
Part Two
Temple Matters
Chapter Five
The Temple at Mt. Gerizim in the Persian and Hellenistic Periods: Precedents, Problems, and Paradoxes One of the most exciting archeological developments in the Southern Levant over the last decades has been the discovery of substantial material remains on the summit of Mt. Gerizim in northern Israel. Over some 23 seasons of excavations (1984–2006), Magen and his fellow archaeologists unearthed a series of monumental structures, dating to the Persian, Hellenistic, Roman, and Byzantine periods.1 Most relevant to the interests of this study is the excavation of monumental public buildings on Mt. Gerizim, dating to two phases: the fifth century BCE and the end of the third/beginning of the second century BCE.2 The building phase dating to the fifth century BCE features a variety of monumental physical remains in the area of the sacred precinct. Most prominent among these was a large courtyard measuring approximately 98 m by ca. 96 m, dating to the Persian period.3 The large courtyard was surrounded by monumental enclosure walls, constructed of ashlar masonry, dating to the Persian era. The excavations unearthed substantial quantities of pottery at the site, stemming from the mid-fifth century BCE onwards.4 Indeed, almost all of the Persian period remains that were discovered at the site were found in the area of the sacred precinct. The excavations uncovered several cisterns – which likely constituted the major water supply, since the site lacks its own spring – within the area of the larger sanctuary. 1 Y. Magen, “Mt. Gerizim – A Temple City (Hebrew),” Qadmoniot 33/2 (2000): 74–118; idem, Judea and Samaria Researches and Discoveries (JSP 6; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2008); idem, Mount Gerizim Excavations, 2: A Temple City (JSP 8; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2008); idem, The Samaritans and the Good Samaritan (JSP 7; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2008); idem, Flavia Neapolis: Shechem in the Roman Period (JSP 11; 2 vols.; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2009). 2 Why Y. Magen situates the construction of the sacred precinct in the 5th century BCE is explained in his: “The Dating of the First Phase of the Samaritan Temple on Mount Gerizim in Light of the Archaeological Evidence,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century B.C.E. (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and R. A lbertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 157–211; idem, Temple City, 167–80. 3 The measurements given here are approximate, because it is unclear from the site drawings whether the length of the eastern wall was identical with that of the western wall and similarly whether the southern wall, which has been largely lost, due to later rebuilding and destruction, was identical in length with that of the northern wall. Why the consideration of the southern wall’s length is important will become apparent in Section III below. 4 Magen, “First Phase,” 176–79.
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Among the other major discoveries pertaining to Achaemenid times were three six- or eight-chambered monumental gates in the north, east, and south – only one (in the north) of which was fully preserved. Additionally, a tri-chambered courtyard building, dating to the Persian period, was unearthed south of the area known in Samaritan tradition as the “Twelve Stones,” within the southwestern corner of the sacred precinct.5 The remains of what was likely a smaller building with an opening, dating to the Persian period, were found in the northwestern quadrant of the enclosure. Of the 14,000 coins discovered during the excavations, some 72 stem from the Persian period. 6 Approximately 300,000 charred and cut faunal remains, stemming mostly from goats, sheep, pigeons, and, to a lesser extent, cattle were discovered throughout the larger site.7 The limited number of faunal samples tested and published thus far in the area of the sacred precinct date, according to carbon-14 analysis, mostly to the Persian period.8 High concentrations of ash and faunal remains pertaining to animal sacrifices were found in the remains of two chambers or side-rooms located near the eastern and northern gates. The Persian period discoveries at the site are both exciting and historically important, but the major rebuilding and expansion at the site during the Hellenistic period are even more impressive. The sacred precinct grew to about 30 dunams (40.5 hectares) in size.9 As part of this massive renovation, the multi-chambered monumental gates in the north, east, and south were renovated and repositioned. Similarly, what may have been a small set of stone stairways located in the eastern portion of the site was systematically expanded and refashioned into a comprehensive set of monumental stairs, consisting of cut quarried stones, ascending the steep slope from the valley below. The builders constructed a new fortified two-chamber lower gate at the bottom of the stairs, measuring 8.5 m x 12.5 m (4.8 m x 9.0 m on the inside), and a much larger four-chamber eastern gate, measuring 14.5 m x 10.25 m, at the top of the stairs.10 5 The nomenclature alludes to the fulfillment of Moses’ command in SP Deut 27:2–3: “When you have crossed over the Jordan, you will set up these stones, about which I am commanding you today, on Mt. Gerizim and you will cover them with plaster and write upon them all the words of this Torah.” Even though the book of Joshua does not form part of the Samaritan scriptures, the number twelve derives from the story of the twelve stones (Josh 4:1–21; 5:9–10). See further, R. P ummer, The Samaritans: A Profile (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), 90. 6 Although the numismatic remains have yet to be published, some samples are available in Magen, “First Phase,” 179–80. 7 The archaeological reports published by Magen have provided substantial information about many of the finds at Mt. Gerizim, but systematic discussions of the coins, faunal remains, metallic implements, and various other objects have yet to be published. Detailed section drawings of the archaeological remains have yet to appear. 8 Magen, Temple City, 97–137. 9 Magen, Temple City, 9. 10 The lower eastern gate upper gate featured a 3.8 m wide opening and 1.8 m thick walls, while the upper eastern gate featured a 4.7 m wide opening and 2 m thick walls. The floor of
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The stone stairs were broadest by the lower gate (23 m wide), but narrowed in width (to 8.4 m wide) as the stairs approached the upper gate.11 The amount of new building construction that occurred above and upon the steep eastern slopes of the site is significant in comparison with the earlier and much more modest phase of Persian period construction. Other building activity in the eastern portion of the site included the preparation of a paved road leading to the lower gate of the eastern gateway complex, as well as the construction of a network of massive retaining walls, large rooms, and courtyards to the east of the sacred precinct. The high eastern wall of the sacred precinct, built on bedrock, was constructed with very large stones, arranged in an offset-inset pattern.12 Three layers of plaster covered the wall’s external face. A citadel measuring 25.4 m in length was constructed to the south of the upper portion of the monumental staircase to protect the ascent to the site’s temenos. The eastern gateway complex thus became the major entrance to the site in the Hellenistic period. Other new structures at the site included a large, multi-chambered public building to the south of the sacred precinct and a set of square and rectangular fortified building structures of varying sizes, identified as citadels, in the southwestern, southern, northeastern, northern, and northwestern areas of the Hellenistic sacred precinct. As for the courtyard itself, this area was reused, expanded, and refashioned into a much larger space (ca. 136 m x 212m). The Hellenistic era courtyard featured larger and more extensive monumental walls, constructed of smooth stones quarried at some depth. Among the other remains unearthed were various jewelry items and assorted metal implements. Beginning perhaps in the late fourth century BCE and continuing during the time of Antiochus III (223–187 BCE), a large fortified town on Mt. Gerizim was built to the west, south and north of the sacred precinct, approximately 400 dunams in size.13 Sections of a city wall, dating to Hellenistic times, south of the residential quarters, also date to this era. It seems likely that the town was largely populated, at least at first, by priests and their families.14 Hence, the site was transformed in Hellenistic times from being a sanctuary complex to being a sanctuary town. Finally, mention should be made of the epigraphic finds at the site. Fragments of some 400 inscriptions, mostly of a votive character – written in lapidary and cursive Aramaic, paleo-Hebrew, and mixed Hebrew and Aramaic script – were discovered dating to the Hellenistic period.15 the lower gate was paved with irregular-sized stone slabs, widely separated from each other to allow rainwater to flow out freely, while the floor of the upper gate was paved with well-fitting stone slabs. 11 Magen, Temple City, 101–2, 120–9. 12 The inset portions are 2.6 m thick, while the offset portions are 2.0 m thick. 13 Magen, Temple City, 9–93. 14 Magen, Temple City, 89 15 The inscriptions are published in Y. Magen, H. M isgav, and L. Tsfania, Mount Gerizim
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In brief, the excavations at Mt. Gerizim have opened an important new chapter in our understanding of the Yahwistic community in Samaria. Particularly notable among the materials dating to the Persian era are the thick enclosure walls, monumental building remains, multi-chambered gates, and the large number of faunal remains. Particularly impressive among the Hellenistic remains are the town quarters surrounding the site, the greatly expanded courtyard, the quality of masonry work in the expanded and partly-repositioned enclosure walls, the fortified towers, the public flights of steps descending to the east, the complex of large chambers adjoining the eastern gateway complex, and the finely-prepared and clearly-written inscriptions.16 Given that the first century Judean historian Josephus dated the construction of a Samari(t)an temple only to the time of Alexander the Great (Ant. 11.302–347; 13.254–56; B.J. 1.62– 65), the archaeological discoveries have added a new dimension to our comprehension of the longstanding Israelite roots of the Yahwistic community in Samaria.17 In this essay, I would like to discuss recent challenges to the monumental temple interpretation of the archaeological remains. In the alternative theory, the site was simply the home of an altar in an open walled courtyard either during the Persian period or during both the Persian and the Hellenistic periods. Ironically, some proponents of the temple theory and the open altar walled courtyard theory agree that in constructing the Mt. Gerizim sanctuary, the Yahwistic Samarians mimicked critical features of the Jerusalem sanctuary. Yet, this proposition, which actually dates back to antiquity, requires much closer scrutiny than it has received. Hence, the first part of the essay will be devoted to evaluating the notion that the Mt. Gerizim shrine was derivative of the contemporary Jerusalem shrine or, at least, one design of it. The second section will discuss the open courtyard theory in more detail, while the third and most substantial section of the essay will return to the archeological, epigraphic, and literary remains to defend the thesis that the Mt. Gerizim sanctuary was a roofed temple, and not simply an open esplanade altar, during the Persian and Hellenistic periods. Excavations, I: The Aramaic, Hebrew and Samaritan Inscriptions (JSP 2; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2004). A careful reanalysis and subsequent discussion may be found in J. Dušek, Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions from Mt. Gerizim and Samaria between Antiochus III and Antiochus IV Epiphanes (CHANE 54; Leiden: Brill, 2012). A. K. de Hemmer Gudme discusses the dedicatory nature of the inscriptions, Before the God in this Place for Good Remembrance: A Comparative Analysis of the Aramaic Votive Inscriptions from Mount Gerizim (BZAW 441; Boston: de Gruyter, 2013). 16 On the skillful preparation of the stones and the use of double vertical rulings (also characteristic of SP manuscripts), see J. Dušek, “Ruling of Inscriptions in Samaria,” Maarav 14 (2007): 43–65. 17 G. N. K noppers, Jews and Samaritans: The Origins and History of Their Early Relations (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013).
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I. A Case of Competitive Emulation? The introduction to this essay discussed various discoveries made on the summit of Mt. Gerizim, but what about the interior of the site on the summit, that is, the core area within the basically square 98 m by 96 m walled and gated enclosure? This is where the debate begins. It is precisely this area, which was subject to so much destruction and rebuilding in later periods. To be brief, the last major rebuilding occurred during the Byzantine era, sometime after the Samaritan revolt of 484 CE, when a church dedicated to Mary (the) Theotokos (Θεοτόκος) was constructed on the summit of Mt. Gerizim during the reign of Emperor Zeno.18 The octagonal-shaped church, typical of the commemorative (μαρτύρια) churches of the time, was built on solid bedrock.19 That the builders chose this particular location on Mt. Gerizim and not some other, such as Tell er-Ras on the northern ridge, is significant, indicating that the builders recognized that this specific place was deemed to be a hallowed site in Samaritan tradition. Following long-established conventions in the ancient Near East, the Byzantine Christians chose to build their sanctuary on what was already recognized to be a sacred temenos. This meant that the construction of the new structure effectively removed whatever remained of a ruined building (or buildings) in this particular area of the site.20 There are some remains of various chambers and gates in the esplanade area, as we have seen, but not of the main structure itself. In the years following Justinian I’s decree in 529 CE declaring Samaritanism to be an illicit religion, a fortified wall with square towers situated at each corner was constructed around the church (533 CE) to protect the sanctuary against potential attacks by Samaritans.21 A structure, housing a gatehouse, was also 18 Y. Magen, “The Church of Mary Theotokos on Mt. Gerizim,” in Ancient Churches Revealed (ed. Y. Tsafrir; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1993), 83–89. 19 One has also to allow the reuse of, and possibly rebuilding at, the site in the late Roman period, specifically during the reign of Constantine I (306–337 CE), by Samaritan worshipers. See Y. Magen, “Mount Gerizim and the Samaritans,” in Early Christianity in Context: Monuments and Documents (ed. F. Manns and E. A lliata; Studium Biblicum Franciscanum, Collectio Maior 38; Jerusalem: Franciscan Printing Press, 1993), 91–148 (108–9); idem, Samaritans and the Good Samaritan, 51–52, 119, 176. The inference is drawn partly from the archeological remains and partly from the evidence supplied by the Samaritan dedicatory inscriptions dating mainly to the 4th century CE, written in Greek, discovered on Mt. Gerizim. On the latter, see L. Di Segni, “The Church of Mary Theotokos on Mount Gerizim: the Inscriptions,” in Christian Archaeology in the Holy Land, New Discoveries: Essays in Honour of Virgilio C. Corbo, OFM (ed. G. C. Bottini, L. Di Segni, and E. Alliata; Studium Biblicum Franciscanum, Collectio Maior 36; Jerusalem: Franciscan Printing Press, 1990), 343–50; Magen, Temple City, 246–49. 20 Magen, Temple City, 245–63; idem, Good Samaritan, 79–104. See also the recent overview of J. Dušek, “Mt. Gerizim Sanctuary: Its History and Enigma of Origin,” HeBAI 4 (2015): 111–33. 21 Magen, Temple City, 264–73.
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built into the northern enclosure that protected the building.22 The church was destroyed during the 8th–9th centuries CE and was not rebuilt. This leaves us with a paradox. The site presents an abundance of material remains – massive, carefully crafted walls, a large courtyard located on the summit of the site, surrounding buildings, monumental gates, an impressive stone stairway descending to the east, some 14,000 coins, most of which were only discovered in the last seasons of the excavations, a surfeit of faunal remains of exactly the kinds of animals one would expect, according to the sacrificial laws of the Pentateuch, an abundance of pottery, and so forth, but no actual temple. Given the destruction of whatever existed on the mountain’s summit, the removal of debris, and the rebuilding that took place in Byzantine times, the Persian and Hellenistic structure is largely lost to us. Thus, the area of the Byzantine church is not, in and of itself, helpful in determining what may have exactly sat on the site in the first millennium BCE. The approach of Magen and most other scholars (myself included), has been to turn to the existing material and textual remains to fill the gap.23 Citing the evidence supplied by 2 Maccabees and Josephus, Magen thinks that Josephus correctly surmised the existence of a Samari(t)an temple (Ant. 11.302–347; 13.254–56; B.J. 1.62–65), which he thought was modelled after the Jerusalem temple, but dated its founding wrongly to the Hellenistic period.24 The excavator cites the literary evidence supplied by 1 K ings 6–7 (along with evidence gleaned from the Temple Scroll, Josephus, and the Mishnah) to postulate an originally tripartite temple design with the entrance facing, as one would expect, toward the east and the inner sanctum, the Holy of Holies, situated in the rear of the building in the west, perhaps in the vicinity of where the “Twelve Stones” are located today. Following the ancient testimony of Josephus, Magen believes that the Mt. Gerizim temple was built due to competitive emulation, a desire to create a northern alternative to the Second Temple.25 The precedent of one purportedly explains the rise of the other. Magen even entertains the idea that the Samarian Yahwistic sanctuary was specifically patterned after Ezekiel’s imaginary temple complex design, given the almost square courtyard surrounding the tripartite temple he hypothesizes at Mt. Gerizim.26 I disagree, however, with two particular aspects of this line of interpretation. First, while it is perfectly legitimate to compare the Mt. Gerizim temple design with that of the Jerusalem temple, as
22 On the late antique commentaries pertaining to this construction, see R. P ummer, Early Christian Authors on Samaritans and Samaritanism (TSAJ 92; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002), 269–71 (John Malalas, nos. 124 and 125), 302–4 (Procopius of Caesarea, no. 134). 23 Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 120–34. 24 Magen, Temple City, 98–103. 25 Magen, Temple City, 141–63. 26 Magen, Temple City, 141–49.
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depicted in various literary sources, it is another thing altogether to turn a parallel into an explanation.27 The tripartite or long-room architectural plan, if one counts the entrance hall ( )אולםand the inner sanctuary ( )דבירas all of one piece with the main hall ()היכל, enjoys a long pedigree in ancient Syria-Palestine.28 Well-known first millennium BCE examples include the early Iron Age temple at Tel Tayinat in southeastern Turkey and the temple at Ain Dara northwest of Aleppo, dating from ca. 1300–740 BCE.29 In other words, the Yahwistic Samarians did not need to turn to Jerusalem to get an idea about how to plan and design a sanctuary. The speculations of Josephus in the first century CE about the Persian and early Hellenistic period are not particularly helpful in gaining a better historical understanding of the era in part, because his knowledge of this era is wanting and in part, because he reads some of the disputes dating closer to his own time into earlier eras.30 The history of Samaria must be granted its own integrity. I wish to return to the issue of putative borrowing later, because it affects some other current interpretations of the Mt. Gerizim remains. Second, even if we were to grant, for the sake of argument, the competitive emulation scenario, we would still be confronted with a formidable problem, because we have precious little information about the shape, size, and design of 27 Having argued in most, albeit not all, cases that the Samaritans were the descendants of the “Cutheans” imported into the land following the 8th century Neo-Assyrian invasions (cf. 2 Kgs 17:23–34), Josephus has to explain to his readers why the Samaritan temple, as well as Samaritan beliefs, rituals, and cultic symbols, were similar to those of Judeans. See my chapter, “The Samaritan Schism or the Judaization of Samaria? Reassessing Josephus’ Account of the Mt. Gerizim Temple,” elsewhere in this volume. 28 Th. A. Busink, Der Tempel von Jerusalem, von Salomo bis Herodes: eine archäologisch-historische Studie unter Berücksichtigung des westsemitischen Tempelbaus (2 vols.; Studia Francisci Scholten memoriae dicata 3; Leiden: Brill, 1980); W. Zwickel, Der salomonische Tempel von seiner Gründung bis zur Zerstörung durch die Babylonier (Mainz: von Za bern, 1999). 29 On this point, see further J. K. Zangenberg, “Garizim – ‘Berg des Segens’: Stadt und Heiligtum der Samaritaner aus hellenistischer Zeit,” AW 34 (2003): 30–31; T. Harrison, “West Syrian megaron or Neo-Assyrian Langraum? The Shifting Form and Function of the Tell Taʿyīnat (Kunulua) Temples,” in Temple Building and Temple Cult: Architecture and Cultic Paraphernalia of Temples in the Levant (2.–1. Mill. B.C.E.) – Proceedings of a Conference on the Occasion of the 50th Anniversary of the Institute of Biblical Archaeology at the University of Tübingen (28–30 May, 2010) (ed. J. Kamlah and H. M ichelau; ADPV 41; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2012), 3–21. 30 For critical assessments of Josephus’ work in dealing with the Persian and early Hellenistic periods, see H. G. M. Williamson, “The Historical Value of Josephus’ Jewish Antiquities XI.297–301,” JTS 28 (1977): 49–66; S. Schwartz, “The ‘Judaism’ of Samaria and Galilee,” HTR 82 (1999): 377–91; M. Kartveit, The Origin of the Samaritans (VTSup 128; Leiden: Brill, 2009); idem, “Josephus on the Samaritans – His Tendenz and Purpose,” in Samaria, Samarians, Samaritans: Studies on Bible, History, and Linguistics (ed. J. Zsengellér; SJ 66; StSam 6; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2011), 109–20; R. P ummer, The Samaritans in Flavius Josephus (TSAJ 129; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009); É. Nodet, “Israelites, Samaritans, Temples, Jews,” in Samaria, Samarians, Samaritans, 121–71.
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the early Second Temple in Jerusalem.31 Only one text – one of the three versions of Cyrus’s decree (Ezra 6:3–4) – treats the issue at all, listing the temple’s dimensions as 60 cubits in height and 60 cubits in width with three courses of cut stone for each one of timber.32 Many scholars, assuming that this text has suffered textual corruption, as no measure of length is given, believe that the new temple was patterned after the old, but this reasonable guess does not provide scholars with much of a basis from which to proceed.33 There simply is no parallel in Ezra-Nehemiah – to the detailed depictions of the architectural features, furnishings, and decorations of the First Temple in 1 Kgs 6:2–10, 14–36; 7:13–51. Thus, even if one were to follow, simply for the sake of argument, the well-known claim of Josephus that the Samarian shrine was a copy of the Judean shrine (B.J. 1.62–63; Ant. 11.310; 13.256), that would not get us very far in gaining a better understanding of what the Mt. Gerizim shrine looked like.
II. No Temple, but a Courtyard Altar? The interpretation of the Mt. Gerizim material remains as bearing witness to the existence of a formal temple in the Persian and Hellenistic periods has won wide acceptance, but is the interpretation fundamentally mistaken? Was there really a temple on Mt. Gerizim in the Persian period? Or, should one rather envision, as some scholars argue, the Mt. Gerizim complex as a pilgrimage site, an occasional place of community gatherings and sacrifices in an open air setting?34 In other words, was the complex at Mt. Gerizim a holy place, but not a 31 The extensive study of J. Patrich and M. Edelcopp posits four stages in the growth of the temple in Persian, Maccabean, and Roman times, “Four Stages in the Evolution of the Temple Mount,” RB 120 (2013) 321–61. 32 The paucity of available information about the early Second Temple is stressed by R. P. Carroll, “So What Do We Know about the Second Temple? The Temple in the Prophets,” in Second Temple Studies, 2: Temple and Community in the Persian Period (ed. T. C. Eskenazi and K. H. R ichards; JSOTSup 175; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1994), 34–51. More recently, D. Edelman, “What Can We Know about the Persian-era Temple in Jerusalem?” in Temple Building and Temple Cult: Architecture and Cultic Paraphernalia of Temples in the Levant (2.–1. Mill. B.C.E.) – Proceedings of a Conference on the Occasion of the 50th Anniversary of the Institute of Biblical Archaeology at the University of Tübingen (28–30 May, 2010) (ed. J. Kamlah and H. M ichelau; ADPV 41; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2012), 343–68. 33 The parallel text of 1 Esd 6:24 does not offer additional information to illumine the matter, D. Böhler, I Esdras (IEKAT; Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2015), 138, 145–46. 34 In the ancestral narratives, the patriarchs (Gen 12:6–7, 8; 13:4, 18; 22:9, 13; 28:18–22; 33:18–20; 35:1–7, 14) construct altars, establish standing stones ()מצבות, pour out libations, and invoke the name of the deity. See M. Haran, “Temples and Cultic Open Areas as Reflected in the Bible,” in Temples and High Places in Biblical Times: Proceedings of the Colloquium in Honor of the Centennial of Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, Jerusalem, 14–16 March 1977 (ed. A. Biran; Jerusalem: Nelson Glueck School of Biblical Archaeology of Hebrew Union College – Jewish Institute of Religion, 1981), 31–37; idem, Temples and Temple-Service in Ancient Israel: An Inquiry into the Character of Cult Phenomena and the His-
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roofed and walled temple? The Mt. Gerizim site experienced a major expansion, as we have seen, in the Hellenistic period, but do the impressive monumental remains from this later era, which include a large assortment of residential quarters, also indicate no more than the existence of grander open air complex, consisting of an altar within a large walled piazza? Zangenberg and Nodet are not the first scholars, as they themselves admit, to hold such views. Earlier precedents for the theory of an unroofed sacred precinct with a sacrificial altar were formulated in one way or another by Bull, Wright, Campbell, Cross, Dexinger, and Anderson.35 But these scholars all proposed their theories before the excavations on the summit of Mt. Gerizim were underway. What is unusual about Zangenberg and Nodet is that they have boldly contended for this position, even after the excavations were completed. In his articles, Zangenberg accepts most of Magen’s analyses of the material remains at Mt. Gerizim, but argues that they do not add up to a convincing demonstration that a formal temple was once situated on the site.36 Zangenberg torical Setting of the Priestly School (Oxford: Clarendon, 1978) 48–57. However important these tales are in pointing to revered ancient sites within the literary lore of ancient Israel, the patriarchs do not make any effort to construct platforms for the altars or enclose the altar areas with walls. As such, the depictions of these altar sites do not present particularly good parallels to sacrificial altars situated within open courtyards surrounded by artificial walls and monumental gates. 35 R. J. Bull et al., “The Fifth Campaign at Balât ah (Shechem),” BASOR 180 (1965): 7–41; ˙ R. J. Bull and G. E. Wright, “Newly Discovered Temples on Mt. Gerizim in Jordan,” HTR 58 (1965): 234–37; R. J. Bull, “A Preliminary Excavation of a Hadrianic Temple at Tell er-Ras on Mount Gerizim,” AJA 71 (1967): 387–93; idem, “Tell er-Ras (Garizim),” RB 75 (1968): 238–43; R. J. Bull and E. F. Campbell, “The Sixth Campaign at Balât ah (Shechem),” BASOR 190 (1968): 2–41; E. F. Campbell, “Jewish Shrines of the Hellenistic˙and Persian Periods,” in Symposia Celebrating the Seventy-Fifth Anniversary of the Founding of the American Schools of Oriental Research (1900–1975) (ed. F. M. Cross; Zion Research Foundation Occasional Publications 1–2; Cambridge, MA: American Schools of Oriental Research, 1979), 159–67; F. M. Cross, “The Priestly Tabernacle in the Light of Recent Research,” in Temples and High Places in Biblical Times: Proceedings of the Colloquium in Honor of the Centennial of Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, Jerusalem, 14–16 March 1977 (ed. A. Biran; Jerusalem: Nelson Glueck School of Biblical Archaeology of Hebrew Union College – Jewish Institute of Religion, 1981), 169–80; F. Dexinger, “Limits of Tolerance in Judaism: The Samaritan Example,” in Jewish and Christian Self-Definition (3 vols.; ed. B. F. Meyer and E. P. Sanders; London: SCM Press, 1982), 2.88–114; idem, Der Taheb: Ein “messianischer” Heilsbringer der Samaritaner (Kairos-Religionswissenschaftliche Studien 3; Salzburg: Otto Müller, 1986), 38; R. T. A nderson, “The Elusive Samaritan Temple,” BA 54 (1991): 104–7. 36 J. K. Zangenberg, “Between Jerusalem and the Galilee: Samaria in the Time of Jesus,” in Jesus and Archaeology (ed. J. H. Charlesworth; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006), 393–432; idem, “Berg des Segens, Berg des Streits: Heiden, Juden, Christen und Samaritaner auf dem Garizim,” TZ 63 (2007): 289–309; idem, “The Sanctuary on Mount Gerizim: Observations on the Results of 20 Years of Excavation,” in Temple Building and Temple Cult: Architecture and Cultic Paraphernalia of Temples in the Levant (2.–1. Mill. B.C.E.) – Proceedings of a Conference on the Occasion of the 50th Anniversary of the Institute of Biblical Archaeology at the University of Tübingen (28–30 May, 2010) (ed. J. Kamlah and H. M ichelau; ADPV 41; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2012), 399–418.
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believes that a sacrificial altar stood on the summit of Mt. Gerizim within the context of a courtyard circumvallated by walls and gates, but not within the context of an enclosed temple with a roof. In this line of thinking, the structure would be consistent with the Samaritan tenth commandment, which following the SP reading of Deut 27:4–7, mandates the construction of a sacrificial altar on Mt. Gerizim, but does not mention a temple (SP Exod 20:13//Deut 5:17).37 At Mt. Gerizim, the priests officiated and offered sacrifices “under the open sky.”38 The place was a “pilgrimage center” that “served an internal, regional Samarian purpose.”39 In spite of the major rebuilding and expansion of the site at the end of the third century and the establishment of a large residential center at the site, the cultic situation remained fundamentally the same. “Mount Gerizim continued as a ‘sanctuary without a temple’ … consisting only of an open piazza with an altar.”40 One caveat must be offered, however, at this point. The instructions to the Israelites about conducting ceremonies at Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal dictate the public pronouncement of blessings and curses by all of the Israelite tribes, the construction of an altar consisting of whole stones, the inscription of the torah, the offering of sacrifices, and so forth (Deut 11:29–30; 27:1–26), but these instructions do not dictate the construction of any public buildings or any monumental structures whatsoever. They simply do not address matters of walls, courtyards, and sanctuaries. For this reason, among others, Judeans could construe these instructions differently from how Samarians construed the same instructions.41 While Samarians could interpret the instructions as a validation of Mt. Gerizim as the place of God’s own choosing, the home of the divinely-appointed central sanctuary, Judeans could read the same texts as pointers that Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal were to be the particular sites at which the Israelites were to conduct a one-time set of public rites, upon their arrival in the promised land. From a Judean perspective, the revelation of the site of God’s own choosing – “the place” ( )המקוםto which Israelites were to bring all their burnt offerings, sacrificial offerings, votive offerings, tithes, and firstlings (Deut 11:31–12:31) – was yet to come. As parallels to the cultic complex at Mt. Gerizim, Zangenberg points to two sacred precincts in the Hellenistic and Roman periods: the Haram Rāmet el˙ Halil in Mamre and the Haram el-Halīl (the enclosure of the cave of Machpelah) ˘ ˙ ˘ 42 at Hebron. At these sites, as at Mt. Gerizim, there was no permanent cult sta37 On this text, see my Jews and Samaritans, 202–12, and the chapter devoted to the Samaritan tenth commandment elsewhere in this volume. 38 Zangenberg, “Sanctuary,” 409. 39 Zangenberg, “Sanctuary,” 407. 40 Zangenberg, “Sanctuary,” 411. 41 Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 194–216. 42 Zangenberg, “Sanctuary,” 411.
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tioned at the sanctuary. Rather, worshipers and perhaps also some of the cultic personnel journeyed to the sanctuary on particular occasions.43 The sporadic nature of the cultic precinct would explain, from his point of view, why there were no residential quarters discovered around the sacred precinct at Mt. Gerizim during the Persian period. I wish to return to the comparisons with the Haram Rāmet el-Halil in Mamre and the Haram el-Halīl at Hebron, but first it ˙ ˘ ˙ ˘ will be useful to review the position of Nodet. The views of Nodet coalesce with those of Zangenberg on some points, but not on others.44 Nodet contends that the material remains unearthed on Mt. Gerizim testify to the existence of a sacrificial altar in the mid-Persian period, but not to the existence of a full-fledged temple. The “large sanctuary built as a stronghold” and the enormous number of animal bones bear witness to the existence of one or more altars, but “no cella.”45 Nodet’s reconstruction of a Mt. Gerizim compound with an esplanade and an altar is related to his reconstruction of the cultic center in Jerusalem.46 He stresses that in both cases Moses’ laws could be observed on an altar without any temple, that is, without a ceiled edifice.47 Subsequently, at the end of the fifth century (ca. 400 BCE), a walled and roofed temple structure was constructed in Jerusalem.48 At some point during the fourth century, the Jerusalem temple was mimicked, in turn, by the construction of a walled and roofed temple on Mt. Gerizim.49 Thus, in both Samaria and Judah, Nodet posits two phases in sanctuary construction. In the first phase, an open air altar stood in a courtyard, circumvallated by walls, while in the second, a full temple was built. In neither Jerusalem nor Mt. Gerizim was a temple erected until the latter part of the Achaemenid era.50
43
Zangenberg, “Sanctuary,” 407. E. Nodet, Samaritains, Juifs, Temples (CahRB 74; Paris: Gabalda, 2010); idem, “Israelites,” 121–71. 45 Nodet, Samaritains, 9; idem, “Israelites,” 122. 46 In Nodet’s view (Samaritains, 10; idem, “Israelites,” 121–23), the reconstruction comports with the situation depicted in Ezra 3:1–6. Yet, the author of Ezra 3:6 is also looking forward, as Nodet realizes, concluding that the “temple of Yhwh had not been founded” ( ) היכל יהוה לא יסד. In other words, the open air altar without an accompanying temple is only conceived of as a temporary state of affairs. 47 Nodet, “Israelites,” 121–22. 48 The reasons have much to do with how Nodet interprets the admittedly complicated chronological references in Ezra 1–6, “Israelites,” 129–31. 49 Nodet, Samaritains, 79; idem, “Israelites,” 134, 141–42. 50 For other arguments that the Second Temple dates to the fifth century BCE, see D. V. Edelman, The Origins of the ‘Second’ Temple: Persian Imperial Policy and the Rebuilding of Jerusalem (BibleWorld; London: Equinox, 2005); B. Becking, Ezra, Nehemiah, and the Construction of Early Jewish Identity (FAT 80; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011). 44
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III. A Temple, a Courtyard Complex, and an Altar: A Response The analyses of Zangenberg and Nodet are important in that both creatively attempt to integrate critical readings of the textual remains with critical readings of the material remains. Both offer nuanced theories about different phases and changes in the development of Samaria during the Persian and Hellenistic eras. Both see continuity between the history of the former northern kingdom and Samaria in Neo-Babylonian and Persian times, both recognize the importance of the Jerusalem and Mt. Gerizim shrines as pilgrimage destinations, and both call attention to Samaritan reception history to gain a better understanding of Samaritan theology and ritual practices. In commenting upon these theories, I shall do my best not to replicate the detailed points made in a recent article by Pummer, which insightfully engages an assortment of ancient literary and epigraphic sources: the Samarian inscriptions from the isle of Delos, the testimony of Eupolemus or Pseudo-Eupolemus (Eusebius, Praep. Evang. 9.17), the Dead Sea Scrolls writing 4Q371, “Text about Joseph,” 2 Maccabees, the NT, Josephus, the Patristic sources, and the Samaritan chronicles, which date to medieval times and later.51 The epigraphic evidence of the two second century BCE Samarian inscriptions from Delos is, for example, quite germane. One text refers to: “The Israelites on Delos who make contributions “to the sanctuary Argarizein” (εἰς ἱερὸν Ἀργαριζείν),” while the second speaks of “The Israelites who make contributions “to the holy sanctuary Argarizein” (εἰς ἱερὸν ἅγιον Ἀργαριζείν).52 Both texts presuppose the existence of a temple on Mt. Gerizim. Although one could conceivably contend in the first instance that the Greek noun ἱερός means “holy place,” or is being used as an adjective, “holy,” the usage in the second inscription indicates that a sanctuary is intended. That both inscriptions are speaking of a sanctuary in the normal sense of a temple is also evident in their dedicatory nature. It makes little sense for the Yahwistic Samarians residing in the Samarian diaspora to dispatch contributions (ἀπαρχαί) to something that is no more than an occasional pilgrimage center.53 The comments of the mid-second century BCE writer Eupolemus (or Pseudo-Eupolemus) also testify to a sanctuary on Mt. Gerizim.54 The ancient writer says of Abraham: ξενισθῆναί τε αὐτὸν ὑπὸ πόλεως ἱερὸν Ἀργαριζίν, ὃ εἶναι μεθερμηνευόμενον ὄρος ὑψίστου, “He was also received as a guest by the city at 51 R. P ummer, “Was There an Altar or a Temple in the Sacred Precinct on Mt. Gerizim?” JSJ 47 (2016): 1–21. 52 Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 126; Pummer, “Altar,” 16–17. 53 Although Samaritans have traditionally regarded the mountain as holy, it is historically implausible that diasporic Samarians would send contributions to the mountain of Mt. Gerizim and not to the sanctuary complex located upon the mountain. See further Pummer, “Altar,” 10–17. 54 Pummer, “Altar,” 17.
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the temple Argarizin, which is interpreted ‘mountain of the Most High.’”55 Similarly, in dealing with the literary evidence in 2 Maccabees (6:1–3) and Josephus (Ant. 11.302–347; 12.7–10; 12.257–264; 13.74–79; 13.254–256; B.J. 1.62–63) about a Samari(t)an sanctuary, Pummer convincingly argues that these sources are speaking of a walled and roofed temple on the summit of Mt. Gerizim and not of a Hellenistic or Roman pagan temple situated at Tell er-Ras on the northernmost spur of Mt. Gerizim.56 In what follows, I would like to concentrate my own comments on five sets of literary, epigraphic, and archeological evidence: the Mt. Gerizim material remains, the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions, the Samaritan sources dealing with the tabernacle on Mt. Gerizim, and the sacred precincts in the Hellenistic and Roman periods that Zangenberg proposes form parallels to the Mt. Gerizim sanctuary: the Haram Rāmet el-Halil in Mamre and the Haram el-Halīl in Hebron. ˙ ˘ ˙ ˘
i. The Mount Gerizim Archaeological Remains Three different sets of material evidence suggest that the sacred complex at Mt. Gerizim consisted of more than a walled courtyard altar. First, the monumental nature of the construction indicates that the structure served as something more than as a periodic pilgrimage destination. The Persian period remains of the well-built western wall, 84 m of which is preserved, is 1.3 m thick and rises to a height of 2 m.57 The enclosure walls were all built of ashlar masonry and the multi-chambered Persian Period gate in the northern enclosure wall measures 14 m x 15 m, indicating a sizeable economic investment in the site.58 The flights of stone steps, descending to the east, which were heavily overbuilt in Hellenistic times, likewise demonstrate an important investment in the Mt. Gerizim complex. The fragments of the interior courtyards, chambers, and the other enclosure walls, dating to the Persian period, are all monumental in style. The well-built rooms and the tri-chambered courtyard building within the larger courtyard are best explained as serving supportive functions to whatever structure existed within the large courtyard itself. In considering this issue, special attention needs to be paid to the three six- or eight-chambered monumental gates located to the north, east, and south of the 55 On the text (Eusebius, Praep. Evang. 9.17), which rewrites Gen 14:17–24, see C. R. Holladay, Fragments from Hellenistic Jewish Authors (4 vols.; SBTTL 20; Pseudepigrapha 10; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1983–1996), 1.172–73. 56 Pummer, “Altar,” 7–19. 57 The absence of gates in this wall may be due to the location of the Holy of Holies. It is possible that the Samaritan sacred site known as “the Twelve Stones” is located in proximity to the Persian-period inner sanctum or represents the partial remains of its western wall. See Magen, Temple City, 110–14 and n. 5 above. 58 The Persian-period gate was replaced by a smaller gate, slightly to the northwest, when the sacred precinct area was expanded in Hellenistic times.
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central court area.59 It would be rather surprising if the Samarians constructed such well-built monumental structures simply to facilitate occasional pilgrimages to the site. It seems much more plausible to suppose that the gates allowed the authorities to manage and control public access to the site. Such a major investment in infrastructure would make sense if the authorities found it desirable or necessary to direct and limit traffic flow in the holiest areas of the site. In short, the monumental nature and range of the physical infrastructure surrounding the central precinct indicate the presence of a substantial building, a courtyard, auxiliary quarters, and altars, rather than only an open courtyard with a random altar or two. If the physical remains dating to the Persian period suffice to indicate the presence of a temple, the physical remains dating to the Hellenistic period are even more impressive. The expanded and finely constructed walls, built of smooth stones quarried at some depth and transported to the site from some distance, measure 2.6 m thick. 60 The expanded sacred precinct courtyard measures 136 m x 212 m. To the east of the sacred precinct, the builders added a network of courts in all likelihood to facilitate and process the passage of pilgrims. The Hellenistic builders greatly expanded the monumental flight of stone steps leading up to the new gate they constructed in the easternmost section of the site. In addition to constructing various buildings at the site, they built fortified structures of varying size, likely towers, in the southwestern, southern, northeastern, and northwestern areas of the Hellenistic sacred precinct. Given the great cost incurred to build these and other monumental structures, one has to ask a basic question of the altar in a walled esplanade hypothesis: what economic and administrative model would explain the expenditure of such massive material resources to rebuild and maintain the site, if the site’s purpose was only to host periodic pilgrimages? We have been discussing material evidence from the Persian and Hellenistic periods, indicating that the sacred complex at Mt. Gerizim consisted of more than a walled plaza and a sacrificial altar. A second set of material evidence, suggesting the existence of roofed public structures, are the building stones from the Hellenistic era with stonecutters’ marks, written in paleo-Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek script. 61 The dozens of white limestone ashlars with a fine comb dressing were prepared at some distance from Mt. Gerizim and likely 59 The gate in the north was fully preserved, but the gate in the east is largely a reconstruction. Because of the steep slope to the east, the eastern wall and gate of the Hellenistic precinct were built over the Persian-period wall, destroying the older construction. Given the numerous Persian and early Hellenistic period finds discovered in the area, it seems likely that the eastern wall had a Persian-period gate. See Magen, Temple City, 100–1, 120–22. Only scant evidence of the existence of a southern gate remains. 60 In some cases, for instance in the west and northwest, the wall followed the line of the old Persian period wall and was built alongside it, Magen, Temple City, 104 (fig. 186). 61 Magen, Temple City, 153–55.
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brought to the site for use in the temple walls. 62 The attested parallels stem primarily from temples. This is an important point, because stonecutters living in Hellenistic times were not prone to fashion such inscribed signatures on the stones of random enclosure walls. Third, the huge number of faunal remains found at the site – some 300,000 in number – indicate that the Mt. Gerizim complex served as more than an occasional pilgrimage destination. To be sure, there is no doubt that pilgrimages and corporate feasting were important functions of the sacred precinct, but the enormous number of charred and cut bone fragments found in the area of the sacred precinct implies that Mt. Gerizim’s sacrificial altar (or altars) were in dayto-day use. Most of the faunal remains Magen and his assistants discovered in the area of the temenos stem from the first phase of the temple, dating approximately from the mid-5fth century to the end of the 3rd century BCE.63 As mentioned previously, the faunal remains, accompanied by great quantities of ashes, were of principally four types: goats, sheep, cattle, and pigeons. 64 Most of the bones were determined to be less than three years old. Of these, a large group was less than one year old. 65 The bones were found mainly in four areas – the northeastern side of the precinct near the northern gate, along the outer side of the eastern wall, the southwestern corner of the fortified enclosure near the small western staircase, and the inner southwestern side of the enclosure next to the (Persian period) area called in Samaritan tradition, “the Twelve Stones.”66 To the east of the eight-chambered northern gate, some of the charred and burnt bones discovered at the site were found in a building measuring 11 m x 12 m constructed on bedrock. 67 The floors of this courtyard building were covered by a thick layer of ash. In the southwestern room of the building, which may bear witness to two phases of construction, stands a somewhat square-shaped simple installation close to the ground with a thick layer of ashes and bones. The presence of ash and bone in such high concentrations evinces the presence of pits for sacrificial and sacred feasting refuse. Given the location of the room near the gate and the thick layer of ashes and bones found within it, this building may be properly
62 Most are .4 m in height (although some reach a height of up to .55 m) and are 1.2 m in length. 63 Magen, “Mt. Gerizim,” 110–11; idem, “First Phase,” 180–81. The excavators found a large accumulation of bones from the precinct’s second phase beyond the precinct’s eastern walls. Preliminary analysis of these faunal remains shows a higher percentage of ox-bones in this second phase of the temple’s operations, Magen, Temple City, 161. 64 Large quantities of bones were also discovered in the residential quarters of the Hellenistic town, Magen, Temple City, 161. 65 Magen, “Mt. Gerizim,” 111; idem, “First Phase,” 160–64, 180–81. 66 Magen, Temple City, 114–19, 160. 67 Magen, Temple City, 117 (fig. 213), 161.
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identified, as Magen recognizes, as “the place of ashes” ()מקום הדשן. 68 Such a facility is mentioned as a component part of the sanctuary structure in Leviticus (1:16) and in early Jewish sources (e.g., m. Zebah. 5:2; 12:5; m. Meʿil. 2:2–4, 8). 69 ˙ From the comparative analysis of how sacrificial remains were relocated and stored at other sanctuary sites, one may surmise both on the basis of the plentiful faunal remains at Mt. Gerizim and the two rooms dedicated to the storage and disposal of sacrificial refuse that a normally functioning temple stood on the site during the Persian and the Hellenistic periods.
ii. The Mount Gerizim Inscriptions The 400 fragmentary inscriptions discovered at Mt. Gerizim, written in paleo-Hebrew, lapidary (monumental) Aramaic, cursive Aramaic, and Samaritan scripts comprise a major subject in themselves.70 For the purposes of the discussion here, I would like to call attention to two particular aspects of these predominately votive texts.71 First, scholars generally agree that most of the inscriptions dating to the 3rd–2nd centuries BCE were embedded in walls surrounding or leading up to the sanctuary.72 Many of the texts written in Aramaic (lapidary Aramaic and cursive Aramaic) script and paleo-Hebrew (Neo-Hebrew) script were discovered in the area of the sacred precinct, while the rest were found scattered at various places at the site.73 After the temple was de68 Given the textual evidence, the altar should be located in the vicinity of the place of ashes and the entrance. For the example of Tel Dan, see J. S. Greer, Dinner at Dan: Biblical and Archaeological Evidence for Sacred Feasts at Iron Age II Tel Dan and Their Significance (CHANE 66; Leiden: Brill, 2013), 53–60. 69 Magen described this object as a reddish clay altar, but this identification is quite uncertain, Temple City, 116–17 (figs. 211, 214), 160–162 (fig. 285). If the small structure consisted of some sort of sacrificial installation, one would not expect such a large amount of ashes and bones on the installation, because altars were normally swept clean so that they could be used for future sacrifices. See, e.g., the so-called altar room at Tel Dan, Greer, Dinner at Dan, 108–19. More broadly, see A. R. Davis, Tel Dan in Its Northern Cultic Context (SBLABS 20; Atlanta: SBL Press, 2013), 48–49, 79–87. 70 Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Inscriptions; Dušek, Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions. 71 Most of the inscriptions were not discovered in situ, but were found scattered in various areas around the site, Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Inscriptions, 14, 30, 271–72. 72 Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Inscriptions, 13–14. Although the epigraphers believe that some of the texts — those written in lapidary (monumental) Aramaic script – may stem from the late Persian period (Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Inscriptions, 14, 41), Dušek argues that all of the texts date to the late-3rd and 2nd centuries BCE, more specifically to the first half of the 2nd century BCE, Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions, 5–8, 21–26, 39, 59–60. 73 Dozens of inscriptions in Greek were also discovered, some dating from the Hellenistic period, many from the 4th or early 5th centuries C.E., and still others from the Byzantine period. Although most remain unpublished, a few appear in Magen, Temple City, 246–49. On the late Roman period inscriptions, see also Di Segni, “Church of Mary Theotokos,” 343–50. The small number of inscriptions written in Samaritan script, stemming from medieval times, are largely unpublished. A sample appears in Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Inscriptions, 261– 64.
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stroyed, many of the stones on which the dedicatory texts were inscribed were reused in later building phases. The presence of such finely inscribed votive texts, mentioning priests and dedications, written on specially prepared stones, points to the presence of a fully operational temple complex, rather than of an occasional place of sacrifice. Second, a few of the fragmentary inscriptions either speak of or presuppose the existence of a fully functional temple. To be sure, some of the stereotypical terminology employed in the inscriptions is vague. Thus, for example, the deployment of the formulae, before God/the Lord “in this place” ()באתרא דנה, “before the Lord,” קדם אדני, or before God,” ( קדם אלהאMGI 149–55) suggests the context of a sacred precinct, but do not specify what the sacred precinct consists of.74 Yet, other terminology used in the inscriptions is more specific. When one votive inscription (MGI 150.1–3) mentions “[that which] Joseph offered [on behalf] of his [wi]fe and his sons [before the L]ord in the sanctuary” ()במקדש, comparative Northwest Semitic usage indicates that some sort of temple is designated.75 What is more, one inscription written in lapidary Aramaic explicitly speaks to the matter at hand, mentioning “bulls ( )פריןin … [sacrifi]ced in the house of sacrifice” ( ; בית דבחאMGI 199). The reference to a “house of sacrifice” clearly assumes the existence of a stationary temple. The same expression in Hebrew is used by Yhwh in Chronicles to refer to his election of the Jerusalem temple. In the Chronistic version of the second theophany to Solomon (2 Chr 7:11–22), which expands upon its Vorlage of Kings (1 Kgs 9:1–9), God alludes to Solomon’s dedicatory prayer: “I have heard your prayer and I have chosen ()בחרתי this place ( )במקום הזהto be for me a house of sacrifice” ( ;בית זבח2 Chr 7:12). Similarly, the Persian period Judean temple at Elephantine is referred to as “the altar house,” ;בית מדבחאTAD 4.9:3) in a joint communique written by the governors of Judah and Samaria supporting the Elephantine community’s bid to gain permission from the satrap of Egypt to rebuild the Elephantine temple. The usage of similar expressions in the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions, Chronicles, and the Elephantine letters testifies to one of the main functions of ancient Near Eastern temples: to present sacrificial offerings to the god(s). Another inscription written in paleo-Hebrew script contains the Tetragrammaton, apparently as part of the phrase “[the house of] Yhwh” (MGI 383).76 The terminology “house of Yhwh” or “house of God” is, of course, ubiquitous as 74
A point stressed by Nodet, “Israelites,” 123–24; Zangenberg, “Sanctuary,” 412. HALOT 625b–626a; J. Hoftijzer and K. Jongeling, Dictionary of Northwest Semitic Inscriptions (2 vols.; Leiden, Brill, 1995), 2.678–79. Note the translation of Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, “in the temple,” Inscriptions, 141. 76 The use of the tetragrammaton is rare and is not found among the extant cursive Aramaic inscriptions, Magen, Misgav, and Tsfania, Inscriptions, 22–23. See also “Archaizing Tendencies in Samaria’s Religious Culture during Hellenistic Times,” elsewhere in this volume. 75
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the standard designation of the Jerusalem temple in biblical sources. Unfortunately, the inscription is fragmentary and so this case is not as clear as is the previous one. Yet another fragmentary inscription (MGI 211) preserves one term בית, “house” in one line and the term ה]כלה, “temple” or “hall” in the next. Given their very fragmented state of preservation, these inscriptions are not as decisive in directly demonstrating the existence of a sanctuary as the aforementioned examples mentioning the sanctuary and the house of sacrifice. Nevertheless, these examples may be enlisted to support the larger case that the site housed a temple.
iii. Samaritan Sources and the Tabernacle on Mt. Gerizim In his work, Zangenberg observes that Samaritan sources, most of which are medieval or later, do not know of a Samaritan temple. Samaritan texts speak of the Israelite tent of meeting as accompanying the Israelites from their desert wanderings into the promised land.77 Employing the Samaritan Pentateuch as their scriptures, many Samaritan interpreters over the centuries have understandably thought in terms of a tabernacle and not of a stationary temple.78 This interpretive tradition also affects the formulation of Samaritan beliefs about the future.79 Thus, at a time of God’s own choosing, the Taheb will restore the tabernacle from the age of Moses and Joshua to Mt. Gerizim, but he does not promise to create a new temple there.80 The point is a good one, but I would offer an important caveat. 81 In discussing sacred precincts, one should distinguish more clearly between the tabernacle 77 R. P ummer points, however, to a critical instance in which the medieval chronicle of Abū ʾl-Fath preserves, albeit in a garbled way, a memory of the Samaritan temple’s existence in its story˙of the Samaritan high priest ʿAbdāl’s construction of a temple on Mt. Gerizim and its later destruction under the Judean King Simon, “The Mosaic Tabernacle as the Only Legitimate Sanctuary: The Biblical Tabernacle in Samaritanism,” in The Temple of Jerusalem: From Moses to the Messiah: Studies in Honor of Professor Louis H. Feldman (ed. S. Fine; BRLA 29; Leiden: Brill, 2011), 126–28. In this Samaritan writing, Simon is succeeded by King ʿArqīa (= John Hyrcanus?). For the chronicle itself, see E. Vilmar, Abulfathi Annales Samaritani: quos Arabice edidit cum prolegomenis (Gotha: Perthes, 1865); P. Stenhouse, The Kitāb alTarīkh of Abū ʾl-Fath: Translated into English with Notes (Studies in Judaica 1; Sydney: Man˙ delbaum Trust, University of Sydney, 1985). 78 The interpretive Samaritan tradition dating to medieval times and later has to be considered according to the limitations of the literary sources (e.g., the SP) that were available to them. As Pummer comments, the “Samaritans’ stance must be seen as an expression of their theological views rather than as an echo of historical circumstances,” “Altar,” 21. 79 R. P ummer, “Mosaic Tabernacle,” 141–46. 80 Dexinger, Messianischer Heilsbringer; Pummer, “Mosaic Tabernacle,” 141–42. 81 One of the medieval Samaritan Arabic chronicles, the Chronicon Samaritanum (chapter 24) alludes to a temple on Mt. Gerizim, when Joshua builds a kanīsa (a covered building) for the tabernacle (haykal al-rabb) the Israelites have successfully escorted to Mt. Gerizim. On the text, see T. W. J. Juynboll, Chronicon Samaritanum: Arabice conscriptum, cui titulus est Liber Josuae (Leiden: Luchtmans, 1848) 239, 261. The literary evidence is not completely un-
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depicted in the Priestly source and the phenomenon of an open esplanade with an altar. If one is going to search for evidence of an ancient belief in a stone walled courtyard with a sacrificial installation, the tabernacle is not a particularly good candidate. The tabernacle ( )משכןdoes not consist simply of an open air walled courtyard and an altar, but rather of a walled, covered tent with a courtyard and an open air sacrificial altar, surrounded at a distance by a moveable exterior fence.82 Like the stationary temple depicted in biblical narratives, the tabernacle includes sacred furnishings, an inner sanctuary or Holy of Holies, and a main hall or holy place ( ;קדשExod 28:29, 35, 43; 29:30; 31:11; 35:19; 39:1, 41). 83 A covered temple as a sheltered cultic precinct may serve, therefore, as a better analogy to what a tabernacle is than simply a place of sacrifice in a gated esplanade. Indeed, the tabernacle may be viewed, as it often has been, as a kind of portable temple. 84 To say, then, both that the Samaritans in medieval and later sources speak of the tabernacle residing for some time at Mt. Gerizim during the time of Joshua and that they deny the construction of a permanent stone temple at the site does not provide positive evidence for a belief in a bounded temenos lacking any covered structure.
iv. The Haram el-Halīl at Hebron ˙ ˘
Zangenberg points to two possible parallels to buttress his thesis that the sacred precinct at Mt. Gerizim was a walled courtyard with a sacrificial altar. Both are sacred precincts from the later time of Herod –the Haram el-Halīl (the enclo˙ ˘ sure around the Cave of Machpelah) and the Haram Rāmet el-Halil in Mamre.85 ˙ ˘ equivocal, because Samaritan sources use the terms haykal and kanīsa in different senses, Pummer, “Mosaic Tabernacle,” 129–30. Yet, one may ask what it might mean for Joshua to build a kanīsa for the haykal in this literary context, if it would not imply constructing some sort of roofed or partially roofed structure for the tabernacle? The story in the Chronicon Samaritanum pertains, of course, to the time of Joshua and not to the later Persian and Hellenistic periods, but it is significant nevertheless. 82 Haran, Temples and Temple-Service, 149–98; W. H. C. Propp, Exodus 19–40: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 2A; New York, Doubleday, 2006), 310– 538. 83 The many parallels between the Solomonic temple and the tabernacle are underscored by Haran, Temples and Temple-Service, 189–92. 84 Haran, “Temples and Cultic Areas,” 37; idem, Temples and Temple-Service, 18. The view is reflected already in antiquity. For instance, Josephus calls the tent of meeting a “portable and itinerant temple” (μεταφερομένου καὶ συμπερινοστοῦντος ναοῦ; Ant. 3.103) and refers to the tent as a temple often in his discussion of tabernacle legislation (Ant. 3.103, 125, 129, 130, 139, 142, 202, 242, 243, 245, 270, 278; 4.200, 201, 203, 313, 314). 85 Y. Magen, “The Cave of Machpelah in the Second Temple Period,” in Judea and Samaria Researches and Discoveries (ed. Y. Magen; JSP 6; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2008), 59–94; idem, “Elonei Mamre: A Cultic Site from the Reign of Herod,” in Judea and Samaria Researches and Discoveries, 95–114.
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Zangenberg contends that the architectural designs of these structures are similar to that of Mt. Gerizim in that in that he views both as roofless, monumental structures circumvallated by walls. Although both of these structures, which will be discussed in turn, date to the time of Herod and incorporate a series of additions in later times, there is some literary evidence to suggest that these sites were already pilgrimage destinations prior to the time of Herod. The Cave of Machpelah is the legendary burial site of the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and the matriarchs Sarah, Rebekkah, and Leah. Sacred to Judeans, Samaritans, Christians, and Muslims, the site is situated about 750 m northwest of the ancient core of Hebron (Tell Rumeideh). Interestingly, the Judean historian Josephus mentions that the graves of the ancestors in Hebron were made of fine marble and exhibited superior craftsmanship (B.J. 4.532), but he does not mention any building or enclosure structure. According to Magen’s recent explorations, the rectangular enclosure measures 33.60 m x 58.60 m. The inner dimensions measure approximately 28.10 m x 53.10 m. The width of the enclosure walls ranges from 2.78 m to 2.80 m. 86 At the highest point in the southwestern corner, the enclosure wall reaches a height of 17.55 m. The style and type of masonry of the enclosure walls are similar to those of the temple walls in Jerusalem, although the masonry at the Cave of Machpelah is more finely executed and better preserved. Several additions were made in the Byzantine period, such as a cross-wall within the Haram and the construction of a basilica, later converted into a ˙ mosque. In early Islamic times cenotaphs were established for Abraham and Sarah and these, in turn, were later incorporated into memorial buildings. During the Middle Ages, similar memorials were established for Isaac and Rebekkah and for Jacob and Leah. The upper crenelated crowns of the walls and the minaret date to Islamic times. Returning to the enclosure itself, there is some debate as to why Herod undertook this substantial public works project. The structure may have been built to facilitate pilgrimages to the holy site or to manage pilgrim access to the caves.87 Magen provides a different explanation, contending that the Machpelah enclosure “was most likely a reduced-scale prototype for the [Jerusalem] Temple Mount, built before the latter, and serving as a test model for building techniques before their later application in its construction.”88 Although Herod’s builders may have applied some of the building techniques and masonry styles they developed at this site to the later temple project, if Herod’s indeed built the 86
Magen, “Cave of Machpelah,” 62–67. A. Lichtenberger, Die Baupolitik Herodes des Großen (ADPV 26; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1999). 88 Magen, “Cave of Machpelah,” 67. Elsewhere, Magen allows that the Cave of Machpelah and the building at Elonei Mamre could have been built simultaneously with the temple or afterward, “Elonei Mamre,” 113. 87
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temple subsequently to this structure, it seems doubtful that the entire building was constructed simply as a test case for the logistical challenges of rebuilding and expanding the Jerusalem temple. It seems more likely that the building served both the local population and pilgrims from afar. In any case, there is no material evidence to suggest that the enclosure was built in connection with an altar or with any sacrificial rites.89 Nor is there any literary evidence to indicate that a sacrificial altar or sanctuary stood here. The site was considered to be holy, because it was the traditional burial place of the patriarchs and matriarchs. As such, it does not form a parallel to the earlier cultic situation at Jerusalem and Mt. Gerizim.90
v. The Haram Rāmet el-Halil in Mamre ˙ ˘
Whereas the Cave of Machpelah was a burial site, Elonei Mamre, located some 3 km north of Hebron, was a cultic site at which animal sacrifices occurred. Even in patristic and rabbinic times, complaints were leveled about rituals and sacrifices occurring at the site.91 Whether the sacred precinct was Judean or Idumean (or some combination of both) in the time of Herod is debated. The name “Qos,” the patron deity of the Edomites and Idumeans, was found inscribed in Greek on the bottom of a small stone altar, which was discovered at the site.92 Renewed excavations at the rectangular enclosure, measuring 49 m by 65 m, were undertaken under the direction of Magen from 1984 to 1986.93 That the building techniques, the employment of monolithic stones, and the exterior plan of the site are very similar to those of the Cave of Machpelah and the rebuilt Jerusalem temple make it likely that all three date to the time of Herod.94 The enclosure walls are 1.76 m thick, while the interior of the site measures approximately 0.324 of a hectare.95 An early water installation was discovered in the southeastern corner of the enclosure. This area may well have been the early location of the site’s spring.96 Another water installation, namely a well, which 89
Magen, “Cave of Machpelah,” 89. So also Pummer, “Altar,” 19–20. 91 D. Jericke, Abraham in Mamre: Historische und exegetische Studien zur Region von Hebron (CHANE 17; Leiden: Brill, 2003); J. Murphy-O’Connor, The Holy Land: An Oxford Archaeological Guide from Earliest Times to 1700 (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008), 370. 92 Magen, “Elonei Mamre,” 113. 93 Y. Magen, “Elonei Mamre-Herodian Cultic Site (Hebrew),” Qadmoniot 24 (93–94) (1991): 46–55; idem, “Mamre,” NEAEHL (1993): 939–42. Excavations at the site in the early 20th century were implemented under A. E. Mader, Mambre: die Ergebnisse der Ausgrabungen im heiligen Bezirk Râmet el-Halîl in Südpalästina, 1926–1928 (2 vols.; Freiburg im Breis˘ gau: E. Wewel, 1957). Some of Mader’s findings are incorporated in Magen’s reports. 94 Magen, “Elonei Mamre,” 110. 95 Magen, “Cave of Machpelah,” 63. 96 Magen, “Elonei Mamre,” 101. 90
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may predate the enclosure, sits in the southwestern corner of the building. A stone pavement likely covered the entire floor of the precinct.97 The ruins of a church likely from the Byzantine period and perhaps also a later Crusader structure occupy the eastern portion of the site.98 Two gates, facilitating easy access, are attested. One gate in the northern wall is approximately 2 m wide and the other in the western wall, perhaps constructed later, is 5.28 m wide.99 Much harder to determine than the dimensions of the Haram Rāmet el-Halil ˙ ˘ enclosure is the function of this site. There is little doubt that the area was deemed to be sacred, given the testimony of earlier and later literary sources, but what kind of sacred place was it? In the excavator’s judgment, it “cannot be determined whether Elonei Mamre was established as a sacred site with a temple or rather as an open ritual precinct.”100 This critical ambiguity in the nature of the Herodian site – whether it was a closed shrine or an open one – casts doubt on whether this site can help determine the precise nature of the earlier sacred precinct on Mt. Gerizim.
Conclusions Given the destruction of the Samarian sanctuary at Mt. Gerizim in the reign of John Hyrcanus, the later removal of building debris, and the construction of the Byzantine church of Mary Theotokos on bedrock, the precise nature, shape, and design of the earlier sanctuary cannot be reconstructed on the basis of the physical remains of the temenos. Absolute certainty eludes us, if we consider only the courtyard area itself. Yet, if close attention is paid to the existing literary, epigraphic, and archeological evidence, it may be ascertained, with some confidence, that the sanctuary was a temple, rather than merely an open sacred space with a sacrificial installation. The monumental nature of the building construction, the great abundance of faunal remains found near the sacred precinct, the multi-chambered gates, and the identification of at least one or possibly two rooms with high concentrations of bones and ashes, indicate that the sanctuary was a regularly functioning communal site of sacrifice. The remains of monumental walls, gates, and courtyard quarters suggest that a roofed edifice stood on the site. In short, the temple building itself may be gone, but critical elements of its supporting infrastructure have been found. The references to a temple in Samarian and Judean epigraphic and literary sources are no less important than the material evidence. Within Yahwistic Sa97
Magen, “Elonei Mamre,” 107. this issue Magen equivocates, debating whether the church in the eastern quarter might in fact date entirely to the Crusader period, “Elonei Mamre,” 110. 99 Magen, “Elonei Mamre,” 102–3. 100 Magen, “Elonei Mamre,” 113. 98 On
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marian history, as exemplified by the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions, the diasporic inscriptions from Delos, and the writing of Pseudo-Eupolemus, the existence of a temple is assumed. Judean literary sources, most notably 2 Maccabees and Josephus, confirm the existence of such a house of Yhwh at Mt. Gerizim. Importantly, these discrete Samarian and Judean sources are independent of each other. Written at different times and from different vantage points, they corroborate the presence of a temple at the site. By contrast, the search for walled open air sanctuaries that might provide historical analogues to the Mt. Gerizim temple being an unroofed open air esplanade finds only negative or inconclusive results in the material remains. There are many questions about the history of Mt. Gerizim, such as the relationship between this shrine and the Persian gubernatorial authorities in Samaria and the possibility of there being other sanctuaries in the province, but the existence of a temple at the site should not be one of them.
Chapter Six
Were the Jerusalem and Mt. Gerizim Temples the Economic Epicenters of Their Provinces? Assessing the Textual, Archaeological, and Epigraphic Evidence This essay explores the relationship between the textual and material remains to gain a better understanding of the temple’s administrative and economic functions in postmonarchic Judah and Samaria. I shall argue that there is a disjunction between the prominence given to the Jerusalem temple in many scholarly reconstructions of Persian period history, based on certain readings of the prophets, Ezra-Nehemiah, Chronicles, and studies of ancient Babylonian temple structures, on the one hand, and recent analysis of the available material remains in the southern Levant, on the other hand. The relevant material remains are the excavation results at Jerusalem, Tell en-Nasbeh, and Ramat Rahel, and ˙ ˙ the Yehud stamp impressions. As a point of comparison, the archaeological and epigraphic evidence from the neighboring province of Samaria pertaining to the administrative center of Samaria and the sanctuary at Mt. Gerizim, may serve as a better analogy to comprehending the fundamental historical situation in Persian-period Yehud than are the analogies often made with the large palace-temple complexes in Babylon. Indeed, the comparison with Samaria and Mt. Gerizim may help to correct some misguided assumptions in those studies, which attribute so much economic prominence to the Jerusalem temple. In what follows, I shall begin with a brief discussion of two of the most influential economic models of postexilic Yehud that accord a central role to the temple. In both of these theories, the temple serves a key economic and administrative function within the region around Jerusalem. After critiquing these theories, my study will briefly discuss the material remains, in particular, the excavations in Jerusalem, the excavations in Ramat Rahel, and the study of the ˙ Yehud stamp impressions by Lipschits and Vanderhooft, which offers to my mind a more compelling theoretical model, de-centering the temple to a significant extent.1 This view asserts a fundamental difference in importance between the temple located in Jerusalem and the administrative complex located in Ramat Rahel during much of the Persian period, in that the latter oversaw the ˙ 1 O. Lipschits and D. S. Vanderhooft, The Yehud Stamp Impressions: A Corpus of Inscribed Impressions from the Persian and Hellenistic Periods in Judah (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2011).
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economic, administrative, and political management of the province. My analysis will conclude with a comparison of the situation in Persian-period Samaria, which I argue parallels that of Judah to a significant extent. In this case, political and economic governance can be located in the Persian administrative center of Samaria, while the main temple was situated in a different geographical site, namely Mt. Gerizim. In neither Judah nor Samaria was the temple the main economic hub of the province.
I. The Temple as the Economic Center of Judean Life One influential theory held by scholars, who consider the Jerusalem sanctuary to be a major economic institution involved in controlling real estate within Achaemenid Judah is the Bürger-Tempel-Gemeinde (citizen-temple-community) model propounded by Weinberg.2 In this theory, the Jerusalem temple, purportedly like a number of other sanctuaries in the Persian Empire, controlled land on behalf of the local deity, who was thought to watch over the land and control its fecundity. As Weinberg puts it, “the land of the post-exilic citizen-temple community was formally accepted as Yahweh’s property (Neh 9:8, 36).”3 Weinberg contends that such a semi-autonomous and self-governing polity is attested in various parts of western Asia in the first millennium BCE, most prominently in Babylonian temples of Neo-Babylonian and Achaemenid times. How the tenet that real estate was ultimately divine property was implemented varied, however, within different ancient Near Eastern settings. In Judah, land hegemony purportedly rested with large agnatic kinship groups, the “ancestral houses” ()בית אבות, associated with the temple.4 In this theory, the free, fully enfranchised members of such large real or fictive kinship groups managed the land holdings allocated to them. The attention given to the leadership exerted by the heads of ancestral houses in Yehud is welcome, because such ancestral houses loom large in late texts, such as Chronicles and Ezra-Nehemiah.5 Yet, as some have observed, there are seri2 J. P. Weinberg, Citizen-Temple Community (JSOTSup 151; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1992); idem, Der Chronist in seiner Mitwelt (BZAW 239; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1996). 3 Weinberg, Citizen-Temple Community, 103; idem, Chronist, 117–18. 4 Weinberg, Citizen-Temple Community, 103 5 G. N. K noppers, I Chronicles 1–9 (AB 12; New York: Doubleday, 2004), 368; idem, I Chronicles 10–29 (AB 12A; New York: Doubleday, 2004), 616–17. J. Blenkinsopp compares the leadership circles in Yehud with the hatrus of Babylonia: “The internal affairs of self-gov˘ erning collectivities formed by ethnic minorities in the Nippur region appear to have been regulated by an assembly (puhru), always of course under the watchful eyes of the imperial ˘ authorities, to which the qĕhal haggôlâ would be roughly parallel,” Judaism, the First Phase: The Place of Ezra and Nehemiah in the Origins of Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 118. See also D. Edelman, The Origins of the ‘Second’ Temple: Persian Imperial Policy and the Rebuilding of Jerusalem (London: Equinox, 2005); eadem, “Settlement Patterns in Per-
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ous problems with the citizen-temple-community model. 6 To begin with, Weinberg himself admits that the Jerusalem shrine held no land. Whereas a variety of temples in Babylonia owned large estates, which were either leased out to interested parties or exploited by their own agricultural laborers, the Jerusalem temple lacked its own landed estates from which it could derive a sizeable income. To be sure, one may acknowledge, for the sake of argument, that the sanctuary may have gradually acquired some parcels of land over the centuries by means of individual dedications or community confiscations.7 Nevertheless, the possibility of such real estate donations does not obviate the temple’s continuing dependence on local and, in some cases, perhaps state support. Second, the claim about all ancient Near Eastern lands being divine properties cannot be sustained, because both the crown and private persons in Babylonia possessed properties. 8 This is both a theoretical and a practical matter. Not all land in Babylonia was considered either in principle or in reality to belong to the gods.9 Quite the contrary, only the actual estates of temples were considered to be divinely owned. Such land was formally designated the “possession” (makkūru) of the deity.10 Hence, the situation in Babylonia actually constitutes a counter example to the citizen-temple-community hypothesis. Third, even if one accepts, for the sake of argument, the basic precept found in various biblical passages, especially within Deuteronomic and Priestly texts, that the land of Israel ultimately belonged to Yhwh, it does not necessarily follow from such a belief that land management was vested in the hands of the temple hierarchy. sian-Era Yehud,” in A Time of Change: Judah and its Neighbours in the Persian and Early Hellenistic Periods (ed. Y. Levin; LSTS 65; London: T & T Clark, 2007), 52–64. 6 Most thoroughly, P. R. Bedford, Temple Restoration in Early Achaemenid Judah (JSJSup 65; Leiden: Brill, 2001), 207–30; idem, “The Economic Role of the Jerusalem Temple,” in Shai le-Sara Japhet: Studies in the Bible, Its Exegesis, and Its Language (ed. M. Bar-Asher, D. Rom-Shiloni, E. Tov, and N. Wazana; Jerusalem: Bialik Institute, 2007), 3*–20*; idem, “Temple Funding and Priestly Authority in Achaemenid Judah,” in Exile and Return: The Babylonian Context (ed. J. Stökl and C. Waerzeggers; BZAW 478; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2015), 336–51. 7 J. Blenkinsopp, “Temple and Society in Achaemenid Judah” in Second Temple Studies, 1: The Persian Period (ed. P. R. Davies; Sheffield: Academic Press, 1991), 22–53; idem, “Did the Second Jerusalemite Temple Possess land?” Transeu 21 (2001), 61–68. 8 L. S. Fried goes a major step further, contending that there was no such thing as privately owned land in Achaemenid provinces, such as Yehud. Rather, she thinks that all land belonged to the governor, “The Role of the Governor in Persian Imperial Administration,” in In the Shadow of Bezalel Aramaic, Biblical, and Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Honor of Bezalel Porten (ed. A. F. Botta; CHANE 60; Leiden: Brill, 2013), 319–31. 9 M. A. Dandamaev, “State and Temple in Babylonia in the First Millennium B.C.,” in State and Temple Economy in the Ancient Near East II: Proceedings of the International Conference organized by the Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, 10th-14th April 1978 (ed. E. Lipiński; OLA 6; Leuven: Department Oriëntalistiek, 1979), 589–96; M. A. Dandamaev and V. G. Lukonin, The Culture and Social Institutions of Ancient Iran (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989). 10 Bedford, “Economic Role,” 11*–13*.
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Rather, a variety of the same biblical texts intimate that land was vested in the hands of individual families and political authorities.11 Fourth, the offerings made to the deity by individuals through their gifts to the temple may be viewed as voluntary or as self-imposed commitments, but not as mandatory state taxes. To be sure, there is no shortage of scholars who contend otherwise.12 There is no clear evidence that the law collections within the Pentateuch mandating tithes, first fruits, firstlings, and the like had achieved the status of statutory law within the Persian period.13 There may have been some voices contending that one particular body of statutes or even a proto-Pentateuch should carry statutory authority in the Judean community, but documentation indicating that such literature had achieved this privileged legal authority is lacking.14 One would not see such an emphasis on the need for Israelites to present tithes, first fruits, and firstlings to Yhwh in Ezra-Nehemiah, Chronicles, and late prophetic texts, had such offerings been legally required. The stress placed on contributions freely and joyfully made to the Jerusalem sanctuary in late narrative works, such as Chronicles and Ezra-Nehemiah, reflects an economic system in which the sanctuary is dependent on the good will of laypeople.15 By the same token, there would be no need for late writers, such as the author of Malachi (1:6–8, 14; 3:6–12), to complain of inappropriate sacri11 B. A. Levine, “Farewell to the Ancient Near East: Evaluating Biblical References to Ownership of Land in Comparative Perspective,” in Privatization in the Ancient Near East and Classical World (ed. M. Hudson and B. A. Levine; Cambridge, MA: Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, 1996), 223–52; idem, “The Next Phase in Jewish Religion: The Land of Israel as Sacred Space,” in Tehillah le-Moshe: Biblical and Judaic Studies in Honor of Moshe Greenberg (ed. M. Cogan, B. L. Eichler, and J. H. Tigay; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1997), 245–57. The depiction of crown estates in the time of David (1 Chr 27:25–31) and that of the Judahite monarchy (2 Chr 26:10; 32:28–29) is undoubtedly influenced by the Chronicler’s experience in postmonarchic times, Knoppers, I Chronicles 10–29 (AB 12A; New York: Doubleday, 2004), 914–17. 12 See recently, S. L. Adams, Social and Economic Life in Second Temple Judea (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2014), 130–45. 13 See G. N. K noppers and B. M. Levinson, “How, Where, When, and Why did the Pentateuch become the Torah?” in The Pentateuch as Torah: New Models for Understanding Its Promulgation and Acceptance (ed. G. N. Knoppers and B. M. Levinson; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 1–19; G. N. K noppers and P. B. Harvey, “The Pentateuch in Ancient Mediterranean Context: The Promulgation of Local Law-codes,” in The Pentateuch as Torah, 105–41, and the further references in these essays. 14 M. LeFebvre, Collections, Codes, and Torah: The Re-characterization of Israel’s Written Law (LHBOTS 451; New York: T & T Clark, 2006), 1–54; R. G. K ratz, “Temple and Torah: Reflections on the Legal Status of the Pentateuch between Elephantine and Qumran,” in The Pentateuch as Torah, 77–103. 15 P. A ltmann comments that “the boundaries between the interests of the Jerusalem Yahweh temple were neither shared nor protected by the political structure in a way that alleviated its financial pressure (according to Neh 13:10–13),” “Ancient Comparisons, Modern Models, and Ezra-Nehemiah: Sources for Insights on the Economy of the Persian Period Yehud,” in The Economy of Ancient Judah in Its Historical Context (ed. M. L. M iller, E. Ben Zvi, and G. N. K noppers; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2015), 11.
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fices and insufficient contributions to the temple, if people had been compelled, as a matter of course, to pay statutory levies to the central sanctuary.16 Rather, the prophetic grievances seem to presuppose that temple contributions were not backed by state enforcement mechanisms. Given this situation, the prophets employed sundry rhetorical arguments to rally popular support for the temple. Similarly, there would be no need for the signees of the ʾămānâ covenant (Neh 10:1–40) to commit to providing “one third of a shekel annually for the service of the house of our God” ()לעבדת בית אלהינו, to cast lots among the ancestral houses to bring the wood offering annually for the temple altar, and to bring first-fruits and firstlings to the house of God, if such contributions were in actuality obligatory taxes.17 When the signees aver that they “enter into an oath and a curse ( )ובאים באלה ובשבועהto follow the torah of God given by the hand of Moses” (Neh 10:30), they take upon themselves a sworn pledge, sanctioned by a curse, whose legal executor is God. There is no indication in the formulation of the ʾămānâ itself that its stipulations were to be imposed by political or sacral authorities. Indeed, the very existence of this communal pact is itself a sign that the temple hierarchy lacked the legal sanction to levy taxes and service commitments on its own. That the undersigned declare: “we impose upon ourselves the commandments” ( ; ועמדנו עלינו מצותNeh 10:33), indicates that they voluntarily pledge to honor the commitments they make. No enforcement mechanisms are listed, even though those entering into the communal compact pledge “not to abandon the house of our God” (Neh 10:40). To be sure, there is one case, when Nehemiah in his second term contends with the prefects ()ואריבה את־הסגנים, because the house of God had been abandoned ( )נעזב בית־האלהיםand the portions of the Levites had not been paid (13:10– 11). After reinstalling the vacated Levites in their posts, the Judean governor observes, “all Judah brought the tithes of grain, wine, and oil into the treasuries” (Neh 13:12).18 The gubernatorial intervention thus nets a favorable result. Yet, in this case, Nehemiah employs his political authority to persuade the relevant authorities in Yehud to deliver proper support for the temple functionaries.19 If Judeans had been legally obliged to deliver their tithes as a matter of 16 The strength of the epigraphic analysis of A. Lemaire is to document the variety of possible fees and taxes. See his “Taxes et impôts dans le sud de la Palestine (IVe s. av J.-C.),” Transeu 28 (2004): 133–42; idem, “Administration in Fourth-Century B.C.E. Judah in Light of Epigraphy and Numismatics,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and R. A lbertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 53–74. Whether all of the cases he lists in biblical literature were actually obligatory taxes is, however, unclear. See further below. 17 Bedford argues that such community commitments may constitute a form of “informal taxation,” “Temple Funding and Priestly Authority,” 351. 18 By contrast, the later writer of Neh 12:47 claims that “all Israel” contributed the daily portions of the singers and gatekeepers and paid sacred contributions to the Levites in the time of Zerubbabel and in the time of Nehemiah. 19 The technique seems to be moral persuasion and intimidation, rather than issuing an
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course, there would have been no need for a direct gubernatorial intervention.20 In short, the belief (at least by some) that the land belonged to Yhwh did not translate into sacerdotal proprietary rights over the territory occupied by Yehud’s citizens, either to compel the payment of temple taxes or to evict non-conformists from their ancestral properties. The very fact that Nehemiah as a Persian-appointed governor intervened on behalf of the temple authorities demonstrates institutional weakness, not strength.21 The temple priests and Levites were not state agents, who could effectively wield legal authority over their constituents. I have been pointing to the serious limitations in the citizen-temple-community model of the Judahite economy as an appropriate means to comprehend the social function and political economy of the Jerusalem temple during the Persian period. A second prominent theory of how the Jerusalem temple related to its regional economy is to view the sanctuary as a designated local agency, perhaps the principal agency, for administering imperial taxes. In this view, favored by scholars, such as Carroll and Schaper, the temple was an imperial instrument and temple officials were responsible for collecting select taxes and overseeing their conveyance to the crown (Ezra 4:13; 7:24).22 The sanctuary cultus was, therefore, an integral part of the satrapal and central imperial system. The temple had purportedly two related roles. One was to collect taxes on behalf of the imperium to support the imperium, while the second was to collect local taxes to support the temple and its officials. Thus, Carroll argues on the basis of his reading of prophetic texts that the Jerusalem sanctuary was intimately connected to imperial interests, “a potential storehouse and treasury of the empire.”23 In outright executive order. For a somewhat different view, stressing direct control and command, see L. S. Fried, The Priest and the Great King: Temple-Palace Relations in the Persian Empire (BJSUCSD 10; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2004); eadem, “The Artaxerxes Correspondence of Ezra 4, Nehemiah’s Wall, and Persian Provincial Administration,” in ‘Go Out and Study the Land’ (Judges 18:2): Archaeological, Historical and Textual Studies in Honor of Hanan Eshel (ed. A. M. Maeir, J. Magness, and L. H. Schiffman; JSJSup 148; Leiden: Brill, 2012), 35–57. 20 Or, if such a legal mandate was in place, there were no effective enforcement mechanisms to ensure proper and timely payment. 21 Even if Nehemiah regularly imposed delivery of lay commitments to temple operations by force, the costs the governor would incur in collecting such resources within the province would have been prohibitive, Altmann, “Ancient Comparisons,” 115. 22 R. P. Carroll, “So What Do We Know about the Second Temple? The Temple in the Prophets,” in Second Temple Studies 2: Temple and Community in the Persian Period (ed. T. C. Eskenazi and K. H. R ichards; JSOTSup 175; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1994), 34–51; J. Schaper, “The Jerusalem Temple as an Instrument of the Achaemenid Fiscal Administration,” VT 45 (1995): 528–39; idem, “The Temple Treasury Committee in the Times of Nehemiah and Ezra,” VT 47 (1997): 200–6; idem, Priester und Leviten im achämenidischen Juda (FAT 31; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2000), 137–50. See also the comments of D. J. A. Clines about the temple as essentially a treasury, “Haggai’s Temple Constructed, Deconstructed and Reconstructed,” in Second Temple Studies 2, 60–87 (66). 23 Carroll, “Second Temple,” 41.
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this view, the Jerusalem sanctuary is “hardly a holy place for worship or the celebration of cultic rituals, but is to be a place for the generating of great wealth.”24 Carroll concludes that Haggai’s temple “looks more like an imperial taxation centre, than a holy house.”25 Based on his interpretation of late biblical texts and some comparative Babylonian evidence, Schaper contends that the Jerusalem temple had a temple treasury supervision committee, consisting of two priests and two Levites (Ezra 8:33–34; Neh 13:13).26 Moreover, the temple, like Babylonian temples, allegedly came to incorporate a foundry, because tax income in precious metals would be normally collected in this form.27 When local authorities in the southern Levant were permitted to mint their own small coins in the fourth century, the local official in charge of this operation, the head of the local mint, was a temple employee.28 Hence, in this view, the Jerusalem temple served both as the local taxation agency and as a local repository. That is, the temple had a dual role: to collect taxes for the satrapal authorities and to collect religious taxes for the temple. Indeed, Schaper goes so far as to assert that the Jerusalem sanctuary served as “the only tax-collection point in the Yehud province.”29 While certain elements of this second theory have merit, many others must be closely questioned. The search for extra-biblical parallels for the types of positions and temple economies one finds in late biblical writings is commendable. Asking difficult questions of literary texts that were largely written for reasons other than to provide readers with information about state taxes and service obligations is difficult, but necessary to inquire how such texts are embedded within or react against the larger social, political, and economic conditions in which they were written. There may well have been a treasury oversight committee at the Jerusalem sanctuary, yet it is less than evident that such an oversight committee had any imperial connections or obligations. Examining the ways in which priestly officials were treated within the context of Neo-Babylonian and Persian taxation policies in other quarters of the empire may shed some light on policies in peripheral areas. It is quite possible, given the comparative ancient Near Eastern evidence, that temple priests and Levites were obliged to 24
Carroll, “Second Temple,” 41. Carroll, “Second Temple,” 41. 26 Schaper, “Temple Treasury Committee,” 200–6. 27 Schaper, “Jerusalem Temple,” 528–31. In this opinion, he follows C. C. Torrey, “The Foundry of the Second Temple at Jerusalem,” JBL 55 (1936): 247–60. 28 Identified as the yôsēr in the deity’s command conveyed to Zechariah, concerning his ˙ sum of thirty shekels, hašlîkēhû ʾel-hayyôsēr (Zech 11:13), Schaper, “Jerusalem Temple,” 530– 34. The term yôsēr in this context is often˙ translated as “potter” (e.g., NRSV) or emended to ˙ ʾôsār (“treasury”). Whatever the proper form and translation of the term might be, comparing ˙ official’s functions with those of the gitepatu (Persian loan word), an official serving at this Babylonian temples, encounters problems. See Bedford, “Economic Role,” 16–18. 29 Schaper, “Temple Treasury Committee,” 205. 25
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provide corvée labor, if the Persian authorities demanded it, for building projects.30 Such service obligations by priestly officials seem to be presupposed in the account of the rebuilding of Jerusalem’s walls in the time of Nehemiah (3:1– 32). There, priests from Jerusalem and from the Jordan Valley (Neh 3:1, 21–22, 28), as well as Levites (3:17), participate in the construction activities. Whether the priests were also subject to military conscription, as priests at the Ebabber, Eanna, and Ezidda temples in Babylonia were during the Neo-Babylonian and Persian periods, is unclear, given the limitations of the available literary materials pertaining to conditions in Yehud.31 If, as some have argued, the Jerusalem temple gradually gathered some lands over time, due to donations or to confiscations, it seems likely that the priestly custodians of such estates would be compelled to remit duties to the crown, based on a portion of the income they gained by means of the lands they controlled.32 30 K. K leber, Tempel und Palast: die Beziehungen zwischen dem König und dem Eanna-Tempel im spätbabylonischen Uruk (AOAT 358; Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2008). The sanctuaries of Babylonia contributed financially and logistically to the building projects of the Neo-Babylonian and Achaemenid kings. See C. Waerzeggers, The Ezida Temple of Borsippa: Priesthood, Cult, Archives (Achaemenid History 15; Leiden: Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Oosten, 2010), 339. Their dependent workforces were made available for civil projects initiated by Babylonian monarchs. The Ebabbar and Eanna temple authorities organized these workers and placed them under the authority of local royal officials, such as the qīpu and the ša rēš šarri bēl-piqitti. In some cases, the priests themselves were assembled under the authority of their department heads, the kiništu and the šatammu, fitted with a lump sum of silver, and tasked with producing bricks for an allotted portion of the temple wall. For some priests, the cost of performing this duty (or hiring dependents to carry out assigned duties) proved to be onerous. Priestly divisions also contributed to the rebuilding of the temple wall at Sippar. Sacerdotal participation in this construction enterprise during the Persian period was not a voluntary act, but an obligation imposed by the treasury. See further Waerzeggers, Ezida Temple, 337–44; M. Jursa, “Taxation and Service Obligations in Babylonia from Nebuchadnezzar to Darius and the Evidence for Darius’ Tax Reform,” in Herodot und das Persische Weltreich: Akten des 3. Internationalen Kolloquiums zum Thema “Vorderasien im Spannungsfeld klassischer und altorientalischer Überlieferungen”Innsbruck, 24–28 November 2008 (ed. R. Rollinger, B. Truschnegg, and R. Bichler; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2011), 431–48. 31 P. Briant, “Table du roi: tribut et redistribution chez les Achéménides,” in Le tribut dans l’empire perse: Actes de la table ronde de Paris, 12–13 décembre 1986 (ed. P. Briant and C. Herrenschmidt; Paris, 1989), 35–44; H. K linkott, “Steuern, Zölle, und Tribute im Achaimenidenreich,” in Geschenke und Steuern, Zölle und Tribute: antike Abgabenformen in Anspruch und Wirklichkeit (ed. H. K linkott, S. Kubisch, and R. Müller-Wollermann; CHANE 29; Leiden: Brill, 2007), 263–90; M. Jursa with C. Waerzeggers, “On Aspects of Taxation in Achaemenid Babylonia: New Evidence from Borsippa,” in Organisation des pouvoirs et contacts culturels dans les pays de l’empire achéménide (ed. P. Briant and M. Chauveau; Paris: Éditions de Boccard, 2009), 237–69; M. Jursa, with J. Hackl, B. Janković, K. K leber, E. E. Payne, C. Waerzeggers, and M. Weszeli, Aspects of the Economic History of Babylonia in the First Millennium BC (Veröffentlichungen zur Wirtschaftsgeschichte Babyloniens im 1. Jahrtausend v.Chr. 4; Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2010); Waerzeggers, Ezida Temple, 339–52. 32 So Blenkinsopp, “Temple and Society,” 22–53; idem, “Second Jerusalemite Temple,” 61–68. On the situation in Babylonia, see Jursa, “Taxation and Service Obligations,” 433–35;
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That Artaxerxes is said to have relieved the priests and the Levites from the duties of having to pay “tribute ()מנדה, tax ()בלו, and service duty ( ”)הלךin the rescript he sends with Ezra (Ezra 7:24) suggests that these taxes and obligations were normally incumbent on the sacerdocy, just as they were incumbent on the populace at large (Ezra 4:13, 20; 6:8).33 That is, royally-initiated remissions of specific taxes and state obligations should be considered as anomalous, rather than as normative, in the period under view.34 We have been discussing a number of ways in which the temple was not completely set apart from other societal institutions, but rather was one component in the larger economy. The various cases we have examined indicate that temple officials were normally subject to at least some tax and service obligations. Yet, the converse does not hold; we have not discerned any clear instances in which the temple functioned as an appointed branch of the local, satrapal, or central government’s fiscal administration. In this respect, there are serious flaws to viewing the temple as a (or the) royally designated taxation agency. To begin with, texts in Ezra distinguish between the royal palace (bêt malkāʾ; Ezra 6:4), the “house of the royal treasury” (bêt ginzê malkāʾ; Ezra 7:20) and the satrapal treasuries (Ezra 6:8–10; 7:20–21), on the one hand, and the Jerusalem temple and its treasuries (Ezra 2:69 [//Neh 7:70]; 8:24–27; Neh 7:71; 12:44; 13:12–13), on the Waerzeggers, Ezida Temple, 348. As part of his fiscal reforms, Darius I introduced an income tax on temple prebends, Waerzeggers, Ezida Temple, 351–52. 33 My focus, here, is on the assumptions underlying the claims made in the rescript. The authenticity of the correspondence in Ezra has come under much critical review in recent decades. See D. Schwiderski, Handbuch der nordwestsemitischen Briefformulars: Ein Beitrag zur Echtheitsfrage der aramäischen Briefe des Esrabuches (BZAW 295; Berlin and New York: de Gruyter, 2000); L. L. Grabbe, A History of the Jews and Judaism in the Second Temple Per iod, 1. Yehud: A History of the Persian Province of Judah (LSTS 47; London and New York: T & T Clark International, 2004), 76–78; idem, “The “Persian Documents” in the Book of Ezra: Are They Authentic?” in Judah and the Judeans in the Persian Period (ed. O. Lipschits and M. Oeming; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2006), 531–70; S. Grätz, Das Edikt des Artaxerxes: Eine Untersuchung zum religionspolitischen und historischen Umfeld von Esra 7,12– 26 (BZAW 337; Berlin and New York: de Gruyter, 2004); idem, “Esra 7 im Kontext hellenistischer Politik: Der königliche Euergetismus in hellenistischer Zeit als ideeller Hintergrund von Esr 7,12–26,” in Die Griechen und das antike Israel: Interdisziplinäre Studien zur Religions- und Kulturgeschichte des Heiligen Landes (ed. S. A lkier and M. Witte; OBO 201; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2004), 131–54; J. Pakkala, Ezra the Scribe: The Development of Ezra 7–10 and Nehemia 8 (BZAW 347; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2004), 22–56. For a very different opinion, defending the authenticity of this document, see R. C. Steiner, ‘The mbqr at Qumran, the episkopos in the Anthenian Empire, and the meaning of lbqrʾ in Ezra 7:14 – On the Relation of Ezra’s Mission to the Persian Legal Project,” JBL 120 (2001): 623–46. L. S. Fried offers a mediating view, Ezra and the Law in History and Tradition (Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 2014), 8–21; eadem, Ezra: A Critical Commentary (Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2015), 314–35. 34 It is often assumed that the priests, Levites, temple servants, and so forth were exempt from such duties and taxes, but the remission of such obligations in the decree of Artaxerxes (Ezra 7:24) would have no point, unless the members of the sacerdocy were normally subject to them.
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other hand. This evidence is important, because it shows that the writers did not necessarily view temple storehouses as subsidiary royal storehouses.35 Second, the writers do not claim that the Jerusalem temple served as the main collection center for taxes due to the imperial crown. The stray comments about the royal and satrapal treasuries have to do with occasional support given by the crown, the satrapy of Transeuphrates, and the tirshata to the Jerusalem temple (Ezra 6:4, 8–10; 7:15, 20; 8:24–27; Neh 7:71), not to funds channeled through the temple for the royal treasuries.36 Evidence for the role of the sanctuary as an imperial tax collection agency seems to be lacking in Ezra-Nehemiah.37 Interestingly, when Nehemiah comments on state taxes (Neh 5:4), he champions his beneficence to his subjects, because he refrains from collecting the gubernatorial allowance during his time of service (Neh 5:14). All the previous governors of Yehud, so Nehemiah claims, burdened ( )הכבידוtheir subjects and exacted from them forty shekels of silver for their daily food allotment (5:15).38 In the complaint of the Cupbearer to the King about the expenses the gubernatorial retainers previously cost the people (5:16) and in the earlier mention of the tribute tax owed to the king ( ;מדת המלך5:4), Nehemiah nowhere declares that such taxes were first delivered to or channeled through the temple as a mass collection depot.39 The temple simply does not figure into the equation. Third, the comparative evidence pertaining to Babylon, Nippur, and Perse polis attests to the existence of many local treasuries or storehouses, not simply to one central tax collection agency.40 To complicate matters further, one function of the Murašû firm in the fifth century was to serve as a critical go-between, 35 The same may be true of the Judean temple treasury at Elephantine. See Fried, “Governor in Persian Imperial Administration,” 319–31. 36 That Ezra-Nehemiah is so consistent in establishing a pattern of Persian royal support (Cyrus, Darius, Artaxerxes) for the Jerusalem temple is one of the clearest indications of its fundamentally pro-Persian stance. In the literary work, local officials and occasionally regional Persian authorities impede the progress of the community in achieving its goals, such as rebuilding the Jerusalem temple and rebuilding the town’s walls. The highly positive picture of the imperial patronage of Jerusalem and its sanctuary undoubtedly masks a much more complicated fiscal and political relationship with the Judean people in the homeland. See Adams, Social and Economic Life, 142–43, and more generally, B. Lincoln, ‘Happiness for Mankind’: Achaemenian Religion and the Imperial Project (Acta Iranica 53; Leuven: Peeters, 2012). 37 Bedford, “Temple Funding and Priestly Authority,” 342–43. 38 The difficult text of Neh 5:15 reflects, among other things, a ר/ דerror (MT ;אחרVg. quotidie = )אחד. Hence, we read ( בלחם ליום אחד כסף־שקלים ארבעיםMT )בלחם ויין אחר כסף־שקלים ארבעים. See also H. G. M. Williamson, Ezra-Nehemiah (WBC; Waco, TX: Word, 1985) 234; J. Blenkinsopp, Ezra-Nehemiah (OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1988) 261. 39 The NJPS translation of Neh 10:38, והם הלוים ההמעשרים בכל ערי עבדתינו, as “the Levites who collect the tithe in all our towns subject to royal service,” may give the impression that Levites collected the royal tithe, but the Hebrew refers to the tithes the Judeans commit to bring to the temple (Neh 10:38–39). 40 P. Briant, From Cyrus to Alexander: A History of the Persian Empire (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2002), 422–48.
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collecting or remitting taxes on behalf of clients and paying them to designated parties at the royal treasury.41 In such dealings of the Murašûs, the Ekur temple in Nippur does not seem to have had any direct involvement.42 Fourth, there is a profound problem with the temple as tax collection agency theory in that scholars compare a very small recently-built sanctuary in the southern Levant, which did not possess estates or, for the sake of argument, any significant land, with the very sizeable, long-established, and well-endowed temples of Babylonia, which possessed large estates from which they extracted significant income.43 There is, as Bedford points out, a real danger in deploying the data gleaned from studying these well-documented, well-positioned, well-staffed, wealthy, and complex institutions in a relatively well-populated area of the ancient Near East to fill yawning gaps in our understanding of the small Persian period shrine in Jerusalem.44 The deployment of the comparative method, in this instance, runs the risk of creating an inflated and distorted picture of a small institution in a poor, depopulated, and far-flung area of the Persian Empire. Finally, reliance on interpretations of the biblical evidence without recourse to the material evidence from the southern Levant pertaining to the era under view is unfortunate, because the material evidence provides a helpful check on historical reconstructions based on the interpretation of the literary remains. To be fair, some of the material evidence, such as the Yehud stamp impressions, was not well known or well understood when these earlier analyses were undertaken. In any case, the new evidence is all the more reason to bring the salient issues into a clearer focus in the present circumstances. Let me begin with the archaeological evidence pertaining to Jerusalem and Yehud before proceeding to discuss the Yehud stamp impressions, dating to the Persian period, recently published by Lipschits and Vanderhooft, and the material evidence relating to Samaria and the Samarian temple on Mt. Gerizim. The material evidence of the Yehud stamp impressions is of a different sort from the material evidence pertaining to the population of Jerusalem and then again from the material evidence pertaining to the administration of Samaria and the temple operations on Mt. Gerizim, but all of this evidence, in spite of its disparate nature, militates against a temple-centered theory of how the Judean economy worked in Persian times. 41 M. W. Stolper, Entrepreneurs and Empire: The Murašû Archive, the Murašû Firm, and Persian Rule In Babylonia (Istanbul: Nederlands Historisch-Archaeologisch Instituut te Istanbul, 1985); V. Donbaz and M. W. Stolper, Istanbul Murašû Texts (Istanbul: Nederlands Historisch-Archaeologisch Instituut te Istanbul, 1997). 42 Stolper, Entrepreneurs and Empire, 149–50. 43 Briant, History of the Persian Empire, 388–421; Jursa, “Taxation and Service Obligations,” 431–48. 44 Bedford, “Economic Role,” 3*–20*. See also the cautious comments of Altmann, “Ancient Comparisons,” 108–10.
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II. Identifying Key Economic Centers in Judah: Jerusalem, Mizpah, or Ramat Rahel? ˙ In assessing the Judean material remains, it may be appropriate to comment briefly on the state of Yehud and Jerusalem in the Neo-Babylonian and early Persian period. The discussion will then proceed to the Yehud stamp impressions and the implications of the discoveries at Ramat Rahel. Within the past ˙ few generations, population estimates for postmonarchic Yehud have fluctuated wildly, but have generally trended downward. Although several scholars reacted rather negatively to Albright’s estimate several decades ago that early postexilic Judah’s population was scarcely more than 20,000 people, recent archaeological studies have veered back toward Albright’s low estimate.45 The Babylonian campaigns caused great damage to public infrastructure and substantial depopulation in certain areas of the southern Levant. Some sites, such as Jerusalem, Lachish, Tell Beit Mirsim, and Tel Batash, were particularly hard hit during the Neo-Babylonian era with lamentable consequences for their regional economies.46 Although there is evidence of continuity of occupation at some sites within the region of Benjamin and in the valleys to the southwest of Jerusalem, it took the region centuries to recover from the destructive invasions of the early sixth century.47 Accordingly, the most recent population estimates Judah’s peak population in the Achaemenid era have been quite modest. Lipschits’ appraisal for instance, posits a peak population of about 30,000 in the 45
W. F. A lbright, The Biblical Period from Abraham to Ezra (New York: Harper, 1963), 87. C. E. Carter, The Emergence of Yehud in the Persian Period (JSOTSup 294; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999); J. M. M iller and J. H. Hayes, A History of Ancient Israel and Judah (2nd ed.; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2006), 460–97; I. Finkelstein, “The Territorial Extent and Demography of Yehud/Judea in the Persian and Early Hellenistic Periods,” RB 117 (2010): 39–54; A. Faust, “Judah in the Sixth Century BCE: A Rural Perspective,” PEQ 135 (2003): 37–53; idem, “Social and Cultural Changes in Judah during the 6th Century BCE,” UF 36 (2004): 157–76; idem, Judah in the Neo-Babylonian Period: The Archaeology of Desolation (SBLABS 18; Atlanta: SBL Press, 2012), 73–117. A. Faust argues that in the aftermath of the Babylonian campaigns Judah became a post-collapse society, Judah in the Neo-Babylonian Period, 167–80; idem, “Social, Cultural, and Demographic Changes in Judah during the Transition from the Iron Age to the Persian Period and the Nature of the Society during the Persian Period,” in From Judah to Judaea: Socio-economic Structures and Processes in the Persian Period (ed. J. U. Ro; HBM 43; Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press, 2012), 108–34. 47 O. Lipschits, “Nebuchadrezzar’s Policy in ‘Hattu–Land’ and the Fate of the Kingdom ˙ of the Benjamin Region under Babyloof Judah,” UF 30 (1998): 467–87; idem, “The History nian Rule,” TA 26 (1999): 155–90; J. Blenkinsopp, “The Bible, Archaeology and Politics or The Empty Land Revisited,” JSOT 27 (2002): 169–87; idem, “Bethel in the Neo–Babylonian Period,” in Judah and the Judeans in the New-Babylonian Period (ed. O. Lipschits and J. Blenkinsopp; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2003), 93–107; J. R. Zorn, “Tell en-Nasbeh and the Problem of the Material Culture of the Sixth Century,” in Judah and the Judeans in the New-Babylonian Period (ed. O. Lipschits and J. Blenkinsopp; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2003), 413–47; Y. Gadot, “In the Valley of the King: Jerusalem’s Rural Hinterland in the 8th–4th Centuries BCE,” TA 42 (2015): 3–26. 46
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Persian period.48 Slow growth characterizes most of the Persian period and the beginning of the Hellenistic era.49 Jerusalem in the late-sixth and fifth centuries BCE was underpopulated and poor, consisting only of a village and a small sanctuary. Recent estimates of the town’s population range from 400 to 1,500 inhabitants.50 Looking at the distribution of the Yehud stamp impressions, Lipschits and Vanderhooft point out that the percentages of the early types, dating to the sixth/fifth centuries, and of the middle types, dating to the fourth/third centuries BCE, found in Jerusalem are quite low, 14.5% and 19%, respectively.51 Only with the late type, dating to the late Hellenistic and Hasmonean periods does one find a major transformation in this larger picture, as Jerusalem gradually recovers to become the dominant site in the stamped jar distribution system with finds representing approximately 61% of the late types of jars. Unlike the case in the early and middle periods, some of the late finds stem from the western hill and its immediate environs.52 If one accepts the hypothesis that the goods shipped in these jars – wine and oil – were agricultural commodities shipped from provincial estates or were taxes paid in kind, the recipients of at least a substantial percentage of the commodities shipped in the marked jars were provincial state authorities.53 Based on this material distribution, it is quite unlikely that Jerusalem served as the seat of those provincial authorities during the early and middle periods. 48 O. Lipschits, “Demographic Changes in Judah between the Seventh and Fifth Centuries BCE,” in Judah and the Judeans in the New-Babylonian Period (ed. O. Lipschits and J. Blenkinsopp; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2003), 323–76. On the approximate limits of the province, see the recent discussion of Lipschits and Vanderhooft, Yehud Stamp Impressions, 23–30. 49 O. Lipschits and O. Tal, “The Settlement Archaeology of the Province of Judah,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and R. A lbertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 33–52; Lipschits and Vanderhooft, Yehud Stamp Impressions, 38–41. 50 The town was largely limited to the confines of the City of David (approximately 4.4 hectares, excluding the Temple Mount). See P. J. K ing and L. E. Stager, King, Life in Biblical Israel (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2001), 389; O. Lipschits, The Fall and Rise of Jerusalem (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005), 271; idem, “Jerusalem between Two Periods of Greatness: The Size and Status of Jerusalem in the Babylonian, Persian and Early Hellenistic Periods,” in Judah between East and West: The Transition from Persian to Greek Rule (ca. 400–200 BCE) (ed. L. L. Grabbe and O. Lipschits; LSTS 75; London: T & T Clark, 2011), 163–75; L. L. Grabbe, “Was Jerusalem a Persian Fortress?” in Exile and Restoration Revisited – Essays on the Babylonian and Persian Periods in Memory of Peter R. Ackroyd (ed. G. N. K noppers, L. L. Grabbe and D. N. Fulton; London: T. & T. Clark, 2009), 128–37. 51 D. S. Vanderhooft, and O. Lipschits, “A New Typology of the Yehud Stamp Impressions,” TA 34 (2007): 12–37. 52 Lipschits and Vanderhooft, Yehud Stamp Impressions, 12–17. 53 The proposition that the stamps were marks authenticating Priestly verification of the purity of the products contained within the jars lacks material substantiation, pace A. Fantalkin and O. Tal, “The Canonization of the Pentateuch: When and Why? (Part I),” ZAW 124 (2012): 17.
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Other material evidence buttresses this picture. The absence of imported storage jars in the Persian period Jerusalem remains, the scarcity of carved bone and ivory artifacts, and the paucity of stone tools, flint implements, loomweights, and whorls, suggest that the town had only limited trade with coastal areas and beyond.54 Jerusalem is, therefore, an unlikely candidate to have been the center of Judahite economic activity during much of the Persian era. That the temple served as the main collection center for taxes due to the imperial crown is materially improbable. Two other sites are more compelling candidates as administrative centers and collection points for the period under view. The first is Mizpah, to be identified as Tell en-Nasbeh, some eight miles north of Jerusalem.55 The architectural ev˙ idence from stratum 2, dating to the Neo-Babylonian and Persian periods, includes a courtyard-style building and larger, more finely constructed, and better dispersed houses than the stratum 3 houses. On average, the stratum 2 houses, mostly of the four-room type, are twice the size of the stratum 3 houses. Artifacts from this era include ceramic coffins, part of a dedicatory cuneiform inscription on a bronze circlet, a Mesopotamian proper name inscribed in Hebrew characters on an ostracon, Greek pottery, and wedge and circle-impressed 54 A. D. Tushingham, Excavations in Jerusalem 1961–1967, Volume I (Toronto: Royal Ontario Museum, 1985), 33–38; D. T. A riel, Excavations at the City of David 1978–1985, Directed by Yigal Shiloh, Volume II: Imported Stamped Amphora Handles, Coins, Worked Bone and Ivory, and Glass (Qedem 30; Jerusalem: Institute of Archaeology, 1990), 119–48; E. Hovers, “The Groundstone Industry,” in Excavations at the City of David 1978–1985, Directed by Yigal Shiloh, Volume IV: Various Reports (ed. D. T. A riel and A. De Groot; Qedem 35; Jerusalem: Institute of Archaeology, 1996), 171–89; S. A. Rosen, “Flint Implements,” in Excavations at the City of David 1978–1985, Directed by Yigal Shiloh, Volume IV, 257–67; O. Shamir, “Loomweights and Whorls,” in Excavations at the City of David 1978–1985, Directed by Yigal Shiloh, Volume IV, 135–70; A. De Groot and D. T. A riel, “Ceramic Report,” in Excavations at the City of David 1978–1985, Directed by Yigal Shiloh, Volume V: Extramural Areas (ed. D. T. A riel; Qedem 40; Jerusalem: Institute of Archaeology, 2000), 98, 146–49; H. J. Franken, A History of Potters and Pottery in Ancient Jerusalem: Excavations by K. M. Kenyon in Jerusalem 1961–1967 (London: Equinox, 2005), 100, and the larger discussion of K. A. R istau, Reconstructing Jerusalem: Persian Period Prophetic Perspectives (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2016). 55 A. Lemaire, “Populations et territoires de Palestine à l’époque perse,” Transeu 3 (1990): 39–40; J. R. Zorn, “Mizpah: Newly Discovered Stratum Reveals Judah’s Other Capital,” BAR 23/5 (1997): 29–38, 66; idem, “Tell en-Nasbeh and the Problem of the Material Culture of the Sixth Century,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Neo-Babylonian Period (ed. O. Lipschits and J. Blenkinsopp; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2003), 93–107; idem, “Tell en-Nasbeh,” in The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Bible and Archaeology (2 vols.; ed. D. M. Master;˙ Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), 400–8; idem, “Tell en-Nasbeh in the 20th and 21st Centu˙ beh Excavations after 85 Years ries,” in “As for me, I will dwell at Mizpah…”: The Tell en-Nas ˙ Near East 9; Piscataway, NJ: (ed. J. R. Zorn and A. J. Brody; Gorgias Studies in the Ancient Gorgias Press, 2014), 1–21; O. Lipschits, The Fall and Rise of Jerusalem (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005), 87–115, 149–54; A. J. Brody, “Transjordanian Commerce with Northern Judah in the Iron II-Persian Period: Ceramic Indicators, Interregional Interaction, and Modes of Exchange at Tell en-Nasbeh,” in I will dwell at Mizpah, 59–93. ˙
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pottery. As Zorn points out, these material finds indicate that the site enjoyed some level of international communication and trade. The physical transformations in the site from stratum 3 to stratum 2, coupled with the particular mater ial finds, suggest a change in the site’s function from being a fortified rural border town to a minor administrative center under the Babylonians. The material remains largely comport, in this case, with the available literary remains, indicating that Mizpah served for an indeterminate time as the administrative center for the Neo-Babylonian jurisdiction established in this region, following the devastating effects of the second Babylonian campaign to Judah (Jer 40:5–8; 2 Kgs 25:22–26). One also should note, in this context, the geographical and numerical distribution of the m(w)s h stamp impressions, which ˙ point to Mizpah serving as the early administrative center in this area.56 How long it continued to do so is unclear, given that 5th century remains are not well attested at this site and the cause of what terminated stratum 2 in the 4th to 3rd century remains a mystery.57 Ramat Rahel, Beth-Hakkerem, is a fascinating small site, situated on a strate˙ gic hill, southwest of Jerusalem, dominated by a single administrative structure in the Late Iron Age II period (stratum Vb), the Neo-Babylonian period, the Persian period (stratum IVa), and the Hellenistic era (stratum IVb). The building complex reflects a monumental style of architecture throughout the course of its history.58 Few or no domestic quarters are attested at the site. The earliest building level at Ramat Rahel, which likely dates to the early 7th century BCE, ˙ or perhaps the late 8th century, was built as an administrative complex in proximity to Jerusalem at a time in which Judah served as a small client state to the mighty Assyrian empire. In the second building phase, dated to the last third of the 7th and to the 6th centuries BCE, a large edifice stood at the summit of the hill, built of ashlar masonry and decorated with volute (so-called “proto-Aeolic”) capitals, window balustrades, and various types of stone ornamentation.59 The building was surrounded to the north, west, and south by a substantial garden, constructed on leveled bedrock, with pools, tunnels, channels, and other water installations.60 56 J. R. Z orn, J. Yellin, and J. Hayes, “The M(W)S H Stamp Impressions and the Neo-Babylonian Period,” IEJ 44 (1994): 161–83; Zorn, “Tell˙ en-Nasbeh,” 97–103; Lipschits, Fall and Rise of Jerusalem, 84–122, 149–52, 237–41. 57 Lipschits and Vanderhooft argue that the site was revived in the late Persian period as the center of a local Mizpah district within the province of Yehud (Neh 3:7, 15, 19), Yehud Stamp Impressions, 45. 58 O. Lipschits, Y. Gadot, B. A rubas, and M. Oeming, “Palace and Village, Paradise and Oblivion: Unraveling the Riddles of Ramat Rahel,” NEA 74/1 (2011): 2–49. ˙ 59 O. Lipschits, Y. Gadot, and D. Langgut, “The Riddle of Ramat Rahel: The Archaeology of a Royal Persian Period Edifice,” Transeu 41 (2012): 57–79. 60 D. Langgut, Y. Gadot, N. Porat, and O. Lipschits, “Fossil Pollen Reveals the Secrets of the Royal Persian Garden at Ramat Rahel, Jerusalem,” Palynology (2013): 1–15; B. Gross, Y. Gadot, and O. Lipschits, “The Ancient Garden at Ramat Rahel and its Water Installations,” ˙
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Unlike the situation at a number of other sites in Judah, there is no evidence of destruction at Ramat Rahel in the early 6th century BCE or of a long occu˙ pational gap at the site. 61 The authorities expanded the structure in the Persian period, building a rectangular addition on the northwestern side of the building complex, covering an area of about 600 square meters, surrounding the largest pool of the second building phase. It appears that the new addition was planned and built as a new wing to the existing complex – an expansion northward of the fortress tower, extending west of the palace. The site’s geographical location at the eastern end of the Rephaim Valley on the main junction of roads leading to Jerusalem from the south and the west suggests that it was a natural terminus for agricultural commodities originating within the production zones to the west and south of Jerusalem. Lipschits and Vanderhooft compare the extraordinarily large number of Yehud jar stamp impressions discovered at Ramat Rahel (over 300 in number), ˙ dating to the Persian period, with the much smaller numbers associated with other sites, such as Nebi Samwil, Jericho, and En Gedi. They argue that the building complex served multiple functions, including receiving taxes in kind for the regional Persian authorities, meeting quotas imposed on these regional authorities by imperial administrators, supplying resources, if requisitioned, for military contingents, warehousing surplus commodities from regional estates, and dispatching distributions to state agents and elite clients located at secondary sites. 62 The picture of Ramat Rahel as the central Judean administrative center begins ˙ to change markedly in the late Persian and early Hellenistic age, as Jerusalem grows in size and population and Ramat Rahel loses its earlier prominence. Of ˙ the 87 Yehud jar stamp impressions that belong to the late types, dated to the 2nd century BCE, 27 appear for the first time in Jerusalem’s western hill and its surroundings. The number of stamp impressions discovered in the City of David and the Western Hill represent 61% of the 142 late types.63 When the large number of yršlm stamp impressions discovered in various parts of the town is taken into account, this material evidence demonstrates the renaissance of Jerusalem’s administrative status during the 2nd century BCE. Cura Aquarum in Israel II: Proceedings of the International Conference on the History of Water Management and Hydraulic Engineering in the Mediterranean Region (ed. C. P. J. Ohlig and T. Tsuk; Siegburg: Schriften der Deutschen Wasserhistorischen Gesellschaft, 2014), 93– 114. 61 During the late monarchic period, Ramat Rah el likely served as a collection center for ˙ the delivery of goods in kind, mainly agricultural products, such as wine and oil, as indicated by the 225 lmlk stamped jar handles dated to this period that were found there, O. Lipschits, O. Sergi, and I. Koch, “Royal Judahite Storage Jars: Reconsidering the Chronology of the lmlk Stamp Impressions,” TA 37 (2010): 3–32. 62 Lipschits and Vanderhooft, Yehud Stamp Impressions, 758–62. 63 Lipschits and Vanderhooft, Yehud Stamp Impressions, 14–17.
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In summary, the archeological and epigraphic evidence unearthed in the last few decades suggests the need for a complete rethinking of the temple-centered models of Judah’s economy in the Persian period. Rather than view Jerusalem and the temple within it as Judah’s economic, political, and administrative base, one should look first at Mizpah and then, for most of the period under view, Ramat Rahel as Judah’s economic, administrative, and political center. Ramat ˙ Rahel was the central tax collection depot in the province.64 To be clear, my ar˙ gument is not that Jerusalem and the temple lack any value in this newer understanding of Judah’s Persian-period economy. Given that the second largest number of the middle type of Yehud stamp impressions stem from Jerusalem, the town may have been at this time second, albeit a distant second, to Ramat Rahel in the larger workings of the Judean economy. Moreover, even as a shad˙ ow of its earlier self in the eighth and seventh centuries, the Jerusalem of the middle-fifth to late fourth century BCE was still likely the largest population center in Yehud. For that reason alone, one must accord it some recognition as a rare urban concentration in the southern highlands. Nevertheless, the available material evidence suggests that in politics, taxation, and administration, Ramat Rahel dominated Judean life. In contrast to the governmental complex in Beth ˙ Hakkerem, the temple building in Jerusalem held only subsidiary economic importance.
III. Samaria and Mt. Gerizim: A Parallel to Ramat Rahel ˙ and Jerusalem? We have been discussing political and economic governance in Judah during the Persian period. I would like to suggest that we may see a basically similar situation obtain in the Persian-period province of Samaria to that of Judah. Just as the main administrative center (Ramat Rahel) was situated at a different geo˙ graphical site from that of the main temple, so the main administrative center in Samaria was situated at a different geographical site from that of the main temple at Mt. Gerizim. As is the case with the Jerusalem temple in the Persian period, I would argue that the Mt. Gerizim temple was not the main economic hub of the province. Insofar as the temple was an economic factor at all, it was a subsidiary part of a larger system. In what follows, I would like to comment briefly on the region of Samaria during the late Iron Age and the Persian period before proceeding to discuss the provincial center at Samaria and the temple on Mt. Gerizim. Although much is still unknown about Samaria during the Neo-Babylonian and Persian periods, it seems clear that Samaria, unlike Judah, featured a fundamental continuity of 64
So also Lipschits and Vanderhooft, Yehud Stamp Impressions, 762.
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settlement from the beginning of the Iron III period to the Achaemenid era.65 After suffering a tremendous demographic decline at the beginning of the Iron III period, much of the region slowly recovered and grew. The region of Samaria escaped large-scale damage from the Babylonian campaigns, because its residents evidently did not participate in the rebellions against Nebuchadnezzar.66 The transition to the Persian period was, therefore, not as traumatic for the northern hills as it was for the southern hills and for certain cities along the Mediterranean coast. There are gradual changes in the material record from the late-8th century to the late-4th century, but no sudden breaks or sharp deviations. Site surveys indicate that the populations of northern and western Samaria actually grew during the Persian period. The Achaemenid era witnesses a larger number of inhabited sites in northern Samaria than at any time during the Iron Age. 67 Continuity of inhabitation also seems to be true of the capital of Samaria in spite of the assertions of Kenyon that the Iron Age town of Samaria was destroyed by the Assyrians. That conclusion, as Tappy has shown, is highly dubious. 68 There are very few, if any, signs of a destruction layer. It seems more likely that the Assyrians captured the royal Israelite citadel and repurposed it as an administrative center. When the Neo-Babylonian forces took over the site in the early-sixth century, they evidently did the same. A number of the site’s walls continued in use and the town survived until the end of the Persian period. 69 9.
65
G. N. K noppers, Jews and Samaritans (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013), 103–
66 Nehemiah seems to implicitly concede the point in his imprecations against Sanballat and his allies, “Hear our God, for we have become (the subject of) contempt. Return their taunts upon their heads and deliver them up as plunder ( )ותנם לבזהin a land of captivity ( ;בארץ שביהNeh 3:36)!” 67 Very few population estimates have been offered for the Samaria province during this time. In one of his early studies, A. Zertal put the number of residents in Persian period Mt. Manasseh at about 42,000, “The Pahwah of Samaria (Northern Israel) during the Persian Period,” Transeu 3 (1990): 11–12. Given that Zertal’s estimate only addressed one section, albeit the most populous section, of Samaria, the figure for the province as a whole would have to be higher than this partial figure. See A. Zertal, The Manasseh Hill Country Survey, 1: The Shechem Syncline (CHANE 21/1; Leiden: Brill, 2004); idem, The Manasseh Hill Country Survey, 2: The Eastern Valleys and the Fringes of the Desert (CHANE 21/2; Leiden: Brill, 2008). His surveys do not include the Mt. Ephraim region, an integral part of the former northern kingdom. Admittedly, population estimates arising from the analysis of site surveys are only educated guesses. 68 R. E. Tappy, The Archaeology of Israelite Samaria, I: The Eighth Century BCE (HSS 50; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2001). 69 G. A. Reisner, C. S. Fisher, and D. G. Lyon, Harvard Excavations at Samaria, 1908– 1910, 1: Text; 2: Plans and Plates (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1924), 123; J. W. Crowfoot, “Buildings round and below the Summit,” in The Buildings at Samaria (ed. J. W. Crowfoot, K. M. Kenyon, and E. L. Sukenik; London: Palestine Exploration Fund, 1942), 5–20; idem, “Introduction,” in The Objects from Samaria (ed. J. W. Crowfoot, G. M. Crowfoot, and K. M. Kenyon; Samaria–Sebaste Reports of the Work of the Joint Expedition in 1931–1933 and of the British Expedition in 1935: No. 3; London: Palestine Exploration Fund,
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According to archaeological surveys, the areas around Samaria were thickly settled during the Achaemenid era. Over half of the Persian period sites that have been found in the Samaria region have been found within a 10 km radius of the capital.70 There is, therefore, one fundamental geo-political difference between the neighboring regions of Samaria and Judah. In the Neo-Assyrian, Neo-Babylonian, and Persian periods, Samaria never ceased being the administrative center of the province of Samaria. Jerusalem, by contrast, was replaced first by Mizpah and Mizpah was eventually replaced by Ramat Rahel. But Samaria was never ˙ displaced by another administrative center during the Neo-Babylonian and Persian periods. There is also a contrast between the two sub-provinces at the end of the Persian period and the beginning of the Hellenistic period. There is literary and material evidence to indicate that the leadership of Samaria revolted against the forces of Alexander the Great, whereas the leadership of Yehud did not do so.71 This revolt marked a major shift in the course of Samarian history with ramifications for both the capital of Samaria and for other sites, such as Shechem (Tel el-Balât ah) and Mt. Gerizim.72 Nevertheless, the larger point ˙ remains. The relationship between Samaria as an ecoabout Achaemenid times nomic, administrative, and political center and Mt. Gerizim as a relatively small cultic center provides a parallel to the relationship between Ramat Rahel and ˙ Jerusalem for much of the Persian period. Unfortunately, much of the material evidence from Samaria stems from the Iron Age and the Hellenistic and Roman periods. Neither the Harvard excavations (1908–1910) nor the later joint (1931–1933) and British excavations (1935) identified clear building remains dating to the Neo-Babylonian and Persian periods (Stratum VIII), aside from the so-called Osorkon house, built over the ruins of an older Israelite monumental building.73 The finds from the Neo-Babylonian and Persian periods include Persian period pottery, a clay cup thought to be a direct Achaemenid import, bronze parts of a throne probably belonging to a Samarian governor, several fragmentary ostraca in paleo-Hebrew script, several fragmentary Aramaic ostraca, a collection of Attic ware, a small assortment of early Greek pottery, some local coins, three Sidonian coins from the 1957), 1–8; K. M. Kenyon, “The Summit Buildings and Constructions,” in The Buildings at Samaria, 91–120. 70 Zertal, “Pahwah of Samaria,” 14. 71 See Josephus, Ant. 11.302, 331; Curt. 4.8.9–11 (cf. 4.5.9); Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 169–70. 72 Many displaced Samarians likely moved to Shechem and Mt. Gerizim. See E. Stern, Archaeology of the Land of the Bible, 2 (ABRL; New York: Doubleday, 2001), 424–27; E. C. Campbell, Shechem III – The Stratigraphy and Architecture of Shechem/Tell Balâtah, 1: ˙ Text (ASOR Archaeological Reports 6; Boston: ASOR, 2002). 73 Reisner, Fisher, and Lyon, Harvard Excavations at Samaria, 58–60, 126–33; N. Franklin, “Samaria: From Bedrock to the Omride Palace,” Levant 36 (2004): 189–202.
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reign of Straton I (ca. 370–358 BCE), and several other early pre-Alexandrian coins, including a late Achaemenid coin that may stem from the reign of Darius III.74 Of particular interest was the discovery of a deposit of thick brown (“chocolate”) soil, which covered an area of a large 45m x 50m courtyard. This garden, which likely served the Samarian governor, resembles the carefully demarcated brown soil (gubernatorial) garden found at Ramat Rahel and similar constructions elsewhere in the Achaemenid empire.75 In sum, ˙these material finds indicate that the site was administrative in character and enjoyed some level of international communication and trade. Confirming Samaria’s position as the executive center of the province are the Elephantine papyri. When the Judeans at Elephantine wished to rebuild their temple in the late-5th century, they appealed to the authorities in both Judah and Samaria for assistance.76 Interestingly, Jedaniah and his priestly colleagues in the Judean colony at Elephantine mentioned their appeal to the Samarian authorities – Delaiah and Shelemiah, the sons of Sanballat the governor of Samaria – in their correspondence with Bagavahya (Bagohi), the governor of Judah, indicating ongoing ties between the leaders of Yehud and Samaria (TAD 4.7:29; 4.8:28). Also attesting to Samaria’s political, administrative, and economic role within the province are the Wâdī ed-Dâliyeh papyri from the 4th century. These partially legible Aramaic legal papyri, seals, and bullae, which were found and excavated in 1962–1964, but only analyzed and published comprehensively in recent times, shed welcome light on Samaria’s administrative role on behalf of the province’s elite.77 The papyri, which were almost all drafted in Samaria, consist mostly of slave conveyances, but also include some land sales and other legal documents. The papyri are dated by the reign of the current Persian king – Artaxerxes (probably both II and III) and Darius III – at the times in which the documents were drafted and executed.78 The Samaria papy74
Further references and discussion are available in my Jews and Samaritans, 105–7. Lipschits, Gadot, Arubas, and Oeming, “Unraveling the Riddles,” 2–49. 76 TAD 4.5–4.10; A. Vincent, La Religion des Judéo–Araméens d’Éléphantine (Paris: Geuthner, 1937), 253–55; B. Porten, Archives from Elephantine (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1968), 278–98; T. M. Bolin, “The Temple of Yahu at Elephantine and Persian Religious Policy,” in The Triumph of Elohim: From Yahwisms to Judaisms (ed. D. V. Edelman; CBET 13; Kampen: Kok Pharos, 1995), 127–42. 77 The most recent and complete studies are: M. J. W. Leith, Wadi Daliyeh I: The Wadi Daliyeh Seal Impressions (DJD 24; Oxford: Clarendon, 1997); D. M. Gropp, Wadi Daliyeh II: The Samaria Papyri from Wadi Daliyeh in (DJD 28; Oxford: Clarendon, 2001), 1–116; J. Dušek, Les manuscrits araméens du Wadi Daliyeh et la Samarie vers 450–332 av. J.-C. (CHANE 30; Leiden: Brill, 2007). On the local manufacture and use of the bullae, see S. Gurwin, Y. Goren, and O. Lipschits, “Structural, Technical, and Petrographic Analysis of Bullae from the Samaria Papyri,” TA 42 (2015): 89–102. 78 The numismatic finds – hundreds of small coins all dating to the 4th century – also attest to Samaria’s importance within the province. See Y. Meshorer and S. Qedar, The Coinage of Samaria in the Fourth Century BCE (Beverly Hills: Numismatics Fine Arts International, 75
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ri attest, therefore, to Samaria’s continuing capital status until the end of the Persian period.79 The archaeological excavations at Mt. Gerizim, unlike those at Samaria, are recent and their publication is ongoing. Most of the remains found in Magen’s more than twenty seasons of excavations at this site date to the Hellenistic, Roman, and Byzantine periods, but some date to the Persian period.80 Beneath the Hellenistic sacred precinct on Mt. Gerizim, Magen discovered an older layer, which he dated to the second half of the fifth century and identified as the Samarian temple mentioned (but misdated) by Josephus.81 The Persian-period remains are limited largely to the sacred precinct, which was later heavily rebuilt and expanded in the Hellenistic period.82 Among the Persian era monumental remains are a chambered gate, fragments of interior courtyards, chambers and enclosure walls that were approximately 1.3 meters thick. The excavated western wall of this enclosure reaches a height of approximately two meters and extends for some 84 meters. Fragmentary remains of unroofed courtyards were found at the two corners of the western wall, the southern one measuring 12m x 21.5m and the northern one measuring 12.5m wide and an undetermined length. The excavator argues that the dimensions of the entire Persian-period precinct were basically square – 96m x 98m. The temple enclosure apparently featured three gates – one in the north, one in the east, and one in the south, although only parts of the six- or eight-chambered northern gate were unearthed in the excavations. This northern gate complex, measuring 14m x 15m in size, stood in the midst of a wall whose excavated remains extend approximately 73m. 1991); idem, Samarian Coinage (Numismatics Studies and Researches 9; Jerusalem: Israel Numismatics Society, 1999); L. M ildenberg, “Yĕhûd und šmryn,” in Geschichte–Tradition– Reflexion (ed. H. Cancik, H. Lichtenberger, and P. Schäfer; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1996), 119–46; A. Lemaire, “Graffito Hébreu sur Tétradrachme Pseudo-Athénien,” INJ 15 (2003– 2006): 24–27. 79 See also Y. Levin, “Judea, Samaria, and Idumea: Three Models of Ethnicity and Administration in the Persian Period,” in From Judah to Judaea: Socio-economic Structures and Processes in the Persian Period (ed. J. U. Ro; HBM 43; Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press, 2012), 16–23. 80 Y. Magen, “Mt. Gerizim – A Temple City,” Qadmoniot 33/2 (2000): 74–118 (Hebrew); idem, Judea and Samaria Researches and Discoveries (JSP 6; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2008); idem, Mount Gerizim Excavations, 3: Temple City (JSP 8; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2008). 81 Josephus dated its construction to the time of Alexander the Great, Ant. 11.302–347; 13.254–56; J.W. 1.62–65. 82 Magen, “Mt. Gerizim,” 97. During the Hellenistic period, a town grew up around the site, especially to the west and south of the sacred precinct. The town measured approximately 400 dunams in size. There is no corresponding town attested at Mt. Gerizim dating to the Persian period. The large Hellenistic temple and the adjacent town, probably constructed during the time of the Seleucid ruler Antiochus III (223–187 BCE), was destroyed by John Hyrcanus I in the late second century (111–110 BCE), Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 167– 76.
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The building construction was monumental in style. The builders constructed the walls employing ashlar masonry. Dates for the Persian period pottery vessels found in the area range from the early 5th century through the 4th century BCE.83 Small finds from the Achaemenid era include silver jewelry, small coins, and metal implements. 84 Of the seventy-two Persian period coins found at the site, the earliest dates to 480 BCE. 85 Particularly interesting for those interested in the religious history of the Mt. Gerizim sanctuary was the discovery of many charred and burnt animal bones. The faunal assemblage, which is likely to be associated with sacrifices carried out at the sanctuary, was concentrated in four areas of the Persian period complex. The faunal remains, most of which represented animals less than three years old, were principally of four types: goats, sheep, cattle, and doves.86 The excavations at Mt. Gerizim have added much to our knowledge of Yahwistic worship in the northern Israelite hills during the Persian period, but no one, to my knowledge, has contended that the temple on Mt. Gerizim was the key economic or administrative center in the province of Samaria.87 That this is so is not surprising. There is both material and epigraphic evidence, as we have discussed, indicating that the town of Samaria played this role. Nor is there any material or literary evidence to demonstrate that the Mt. Gerizim shrine served, as some have contended for the Persian-period Jerusalem temple, as the capital imperial taxation center, a storehouse and treasury of the empire. It is relevant to this larger discussion that when the Judeans at Elephantine wished to enlist support to rebuild their temple in the late-5th century, they appealed primarily to the political authorities in Judah and Samaria (TAD 4.5–4.10), rather than to the temple leaders in Jerusalem and Mt. Gerizim. To be sure, one of the documents relating to the Elephantine Judean community’s appeal to Bagavahya, the governor of Yehud (TAD A4.7=AP 30, dated to 407 BCE), mentions both Jerusalem and the temple priests. The letter writers note that the communique they dispatched three years earlier was addressed to Bagavahya, the governor of Yehud, as well as to the Jerusalem high priest ()כהנא רבא, Jehohanan, his priestly ˙ 83 Y. Magen, “The Dating of the First Phase of the Samaritan Temple at Mount Gerizim in Light of the Archaeological Finds,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century B.C.E (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. Knoppers and R. Albertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 157–211. 84 Magen, “Mt. Gerizim,” 105–8. 85 The coins have yet to be published. A sample may be found in Magen, “First Phase,” 207–11. The hundreds of short (fragmentary) inscriptions from Mt. Gerizim written in lapidary Aramaic script, cursive Aramaic script, and paleo-Hebrew script evidently date to the Hellenistic period. See J. Dušek, Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions from Mt. Gerizim and Samaria between Antiochus III and Antiochus IV Epiphanes (CHANE 54; Leiden: Brill, 2012). 86 Of these, a large group was less than one year old, Magen, “Mt. Gerizim,” 111. 87 The site sits up rather high above Shechem (883m above sea level) upon the mountain’s summit and lacks a natural water source, at least one that we know of.
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colleagues residing in Jerusalem, Ostanes the brother of Anani, and the nobles of Yehud (lines 18–19). 88 Yet, this is the only mention of Jerusalem that I am aware of in the Elephantine papyri. In this document, the “lordship” of Baga vahya is primary (line 18). Accordingly, the response to the Judeans at Elephantine consisted of a joint communique written by Bagavahya, the governor of Judah, and Delaiah, the son of Sanballat, the governor of Samaria, endorsing the Elephantine community’s bid to gain permission from Arsames, the satrap of Egypt, to rebuild the Elephantine Temple (TAD 4.9:3).89
Conclusions In this essay, I have argued that both in Samaria and in Judah, political and economic governance was located in a Persian administrative center (Samaria and Ramat Rahel) separated at some distance geographically from the main sanctu˙ ary site (Mt. Gerizim and Jerusalem). In neither case was the temple the pivotal administrative or economic center within the province. Rather, insofar as each shrine was a factor in the larger economy, each was a minor part of a more comprehensive system. The relationship between Samaria as an economic, administrative, and political hub, and Mt. Gerizim, as a regional cultic center, provides a parallel to the relationship between Ramat Rahel and Jerusalem and may even ˙ illumine that relationship. In both cases, the sanctuary is located at some distance from the administrative center, and in both cases, material evidence for a close palace-temple relationship is lacking. At a time of foreign occupation, it is readily understandable that those appointed officials serving the imperial government within a given province would consider it advantageous, even necessary, to centralize administrative operations, as much as possible. This is not to say that Judeans and Samarians lacked any self-autonomy whatsoever or that their temples were bereft of any significance for the local economy. The Jerusalem and Mt. Gerizim temples undoubtedly enjoyed ritual, social, historical, and theological importance for their clients. The community value of these cultic establishments may have even been enhanced during this period, because the temples symbolized the continuity and ongoing vitality of local cultural and religious traditions in an age of foreign occupation. Nevertheless, the real power politically, administratively, and economically was situated elsewhere. 88 B. Porten and A. Yardeni, Textbook of Aramaic Documents from Ancient Egypt (4 vols.; Jerusalem: The Hebrew University/Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1986–1999), 1.68–71; A. E. Cowley, Aramaic Papyri of the Fifth Century B.C. (Oxford: Clarendon, 1923 [repr. Osnabrück: Zeller, 1967]), 108–19. 89 With the proviso that it only present cereal offerings ()מנחה, drink offerings ()נסך, and incense ( ;לבונהTAD 4.9:9; 4.10:11; P. Grelot, Documents araméens d’Égypt (Paris: Cerf, 1972) 417–19. Sheep, oxen, and goats were not to be offered there as burnt sacrifices (TAD 4.10:11).
Chapter Seven
The Samaritan Schism or the Judaization of Samaria? Reassessing Josephus’ Account of the Mt. Gerizim Temple The portrayal of 4th century Samarian-Judean relations in Josephus’ Antiquities seemingly points to a decisive degradation in relations between Samaria and Judah.1 Indeed, the story (Ant. 11.302–347) about how a mixed marriage (ἐπιγαμία) between Nikaso, the daughter of the Samarian governor Sanballat, and Manasseh, the brother of the Judean high priest Jaddua, led to the construction of a new Samarian temple on Mt. Gerizim has often been cited as crucial to demonstrate a schism between Samaritans and Jews.2 Josephus’ literary account has had a profound effect on the history of interpretation. The Flavian historian alleges binary oppositions between Yahwists in the North and Yahwists in the South: different peoples (ethnē) – Judeans and Samarians; different temples – historic Mt. Zion over against dissident Mt. Gerizim; and different priesthoods – the authoritative high priestly line of Jaddua 1 An earlier version of this essay with the same title appeared in Making a Difference: Essays on the Bible and Judaism in Honour of Tamara Cohn Eskenazi (ed. D. J. A. Clines, K. Richards, and J. L. Wright; Hebrew Bible Monographs 49; Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2012), 163–78. The present more extensive essay develops and updates the older work. 2 Some issues of terminology. I am referring to Yahwistic Samarians and Yahwistic Judeans to distinguish these groups from the later Samaritans and Jews of the early Common Era. Clearly, there were important lines of continuity between both sets of groups, but also some historical, social, and religious differences. See further G. N. K noppers, Jews and Samaritans: The Origins and History of Their Early Relations (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013), 1–17. To complicate matters, there is an inherent ambiguity in Josephus’ usage of the terms Σαμάρεια (‘Samaria’), Σαμαρεῖται (‘Samaritans’) and Σαμαρεῖς (‘Samarians’). One might expect Josephus to use Σαμαρεῖται to designate the religious group and Σαμαρεῖς to designate residents of Samaria, but Josephus is inconsistent in his employment of these and other like terms (e.g., Σικιμῖται, ‘Shechemites’). See H. G. Kippenberg, Garizim und Synagoge: Traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zur samaritanischen Religion der aramäischen Periode (RVV 30; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1971); M. Kartveit, The Origin of the Samaritans (VTSup 128; Leiden: Brill, 2009); R. P ummer, The Samaritans in Flavius Josephus (TSAJ 129; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009); idem, The Samaritans: A Profile (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2016); B. Hensel, “Samaritanische Identität in persisch-hellenistischer Zeit im Spiegel der biblischen Überlie ferung (Esra-Nehemia) und der archäologisch-epigraphischen Befunde,” in Nationale Identität im Alten Testament (ed. M. Köszeghy and W. Zwickel; Kleine Arbeiten zum Alten und Neuen Testament 12; Kamen: Hartmut Spenner, 2015), 67–127. To complicate matters further, the term ‘Samaritan’ (Σαμαρίτης) can designate a resident of the Seleucid province of Samaritis (Σαμαρῖτις). See J. Dušek, Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions from Mt. Gerizim and Samaria between Antiochus III and Antiochus IV Epiphanes (CHANE 54; Leiden: Brill, 2012), 71–72.
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over against the breakaway lineage begun by Manasseh.3 To be sure, some have insisted that Josephus got the date of the temple construction wrong by assigning it to the 4th century not to the 5th century.4 Nevertheless, they have not disputed his fundamental outline of the temple construction and its significance.5 Critical questions have been raised, however, about Josephus’ reliability as a historian. Not all scholars have followed Josephus’ narrative as an insightful gateway to the ancient past. Some have seen a consistent and decidedly anti-Samaritan bias in his writing. 6 Others have questioned Josephus’ sources and handling of this era. Working in the first century CE, Josephus had few reliable archival or literary sources with which to reconstruct Judean-Samarian history at the end of the Persian era and the beginning of the Hellenistic era. He seems to have had access to only limited information about this period and, drawing upon the few late biblical sources at his disposal, unwittingly compressed the entire Persian era.7 In the case of the union between Manasseh and Nikaso, Josephus may have employed a garbled version of the tale about an elite Samarian-Judean intermarriage involving the house of Sanballat, the governor of Sa3 Nevertheless, on the question of separate Samarian and Judean peoples, the work of Josephus does not speak with one voice (see below). 4 With reference to the extensive archaeological excavations on Mt. Gerizim, see Y. Magen, “The Dating of the First Phase of the Samaritan Temple at Mount Gerizim in Light of the Archaeological Finds,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and R. A lbertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 157–211; idem, Mount Gerizim Excavations, II: A Temple City (JSP 8; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2008); idem, The Samaritans and the Good Samaritan (JSP 7; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2008); idem, Flavia Neapolis: Shechem in the Roman Period (2 vols.; JSP 11; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2009); Y. Magen, H. M isgav and L. Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations, I: The Aramaic, Hebrew and Samaritan Inscriptions (JSP 2; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2004). 5 W. O. E. Oesterley prefers to speak of a two-stage schism, dating to the 5th and the 4th centuries BCE (A History of Israel, 2: From the Fall of Judah, 586 BC to the Bar-Kokhba Revolt, AD 135 [Oxford: Clarendon, 1932], 157). 6 For example, R. J. Coggins, Samaritans and Jews: The Origins of Samaritanism Reconsidered (Atlanta: John Knox, 1975); L. L. Grabbe, “Josephus and the Reconstruction of the Judean Restoration,” JBL 106 (1987): 231–46; E. Nodet, A Search for the Origins of Judaism: From Joshua to the Mishnah (JSOTSup 248; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997); J. Zsengellér, Gerizim as Israel: Northern Tradition of the Old Testament and the Early History of the Samaritans (Utrechtse Theologische Reeks 38; Utrecht: University of Utrecht, 1998); I. Hjelm, The Samaritans and Early Judaism (JSOTSup 303; Copenhagen International Seminar 7; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000); eadem, “The Samaritans in Josephus’ Jewish ‘History,’” in Proceedings of the Fifth International Congress of the Société d’Études Samaritaines (ed. H. Shehadeh and H. Tawa with R. P ummer; Paris: Geuthner, 2005), 27–39; Kartveit, Origin; Pummer, Samaritans. Differently, R. Egger, Josephus Flavius und die Samaritaner (NTOA 4; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1986). 7 H. G. M. Williamson, “The Historical Value of Josephus’ Jewish Antiquities XI.297– 301,” JTS 28 (1977): 49–66; D. R. Schwartz, “On Some Papyri and Josephus’ Sources and Chronology for the Persian Period,” JSJ 21 (1990): 175–99.
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maria, and the house of Eliashib, the high priest of Jerusalem (Neh 13:28–29). But this is uncertain, because there are many differences between the elaborate discussion of Josephus and the terse anecdote of Nehemiah.8 At times, Josephus uncritically borrowed material from legendary sources relating, for example, to the purported arrival of Alexander in Jerusalem and incorporated this material into his own account.9 There are also very serious gaps in knowledge that skew his larger narrative framework. The Flavian histor ian of the first century CE does not seem to be aware of the tradition discussed by the Roman writer Quintus Curtius Rufus (Hist. Alex. 4.8, 9–10) that the Samarians murdered the Macedonian-appointed prefect of Syria (Andromachus) in 331 BCE, while Alexander was extending his campaign into Egypt. This insurrection led to punitive reprisals by Alexander’s forces against the guilty parties. The discovery and analysis of dozens of assorted 4th century private legal documents (mostly slave dockets), known as the Samaria papyri, shed welcome light on this period.10 Hidden in the caves of the Wâdī ed-Dâliyeh, these material remains most plausibly originate from elite Samarians fleeing from the forces of Alexander.11 According to Syncellus and one passage in the Chronicon of Eusebius (Olympiad CXII [205F]), Alexander destroyed the town of Samaria and settled a colony of Macedonians at the site. Alternatively, according to another passage in the Chronicon of Eusebius and Jerome, it was Perdikkas who settled the city with Macedonians. In any event, the archaeological evidence from the Wâdī ed-Dâliyeh and the historical testimony of Quintus Curtius Rufus indicate the limitations of enlisting Josephus’ Antiquities as a reliable guide for understanding the history of this period. The critical analysis of Josephus’ literary presentation needs to be extended to his account of the Mt. Gerizim sanctuary. My interest in this essay lies with 8 J. C. VanderKam observes that “apart from the families involved and the position of the husband and wife in them, there are no similarities between the union of Neh 13:28 and the Manasseh-Nikaso marriage” (From Joshua to Caiaphas: High Priests after the Exile [Minneapolis: Fortress, 2004], 76). 9 E. S. Gruen, Heritage and Hellenism: The Reinvention of Jewish Tradition (Los Angeles: UCLA Press, 1998), 189–202; L. L. Grabbe, A History of the Jews and Judaism in the Second Temple Period, 2: The Early Hellenistic Period (LSTS 68; London: T & T Clark, 2008), 74–75. 10 F. M . Cross, “The Papyri and Their Historical Implications,” in Discoveries in the Wâdī ed–Dâliyeh (ed. P. W. Lapp and N. L. Lapp; AASOR 41; Cambridge, MA: ASOR, 1974), 17– 29; D. M. Gropp, Wadi Daliyeh II: The Samaria Papyri from Wadi Daliyeh (DJD 28; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001); J. Dušek, Les manuscrits araméens du Wadi Daliyeh et la Samarie vers 450–332 av. J.-C. (CHANE 30; Leiden: Brill, 2007); A. K. de Hemmer Gudme, Before the God in This Place for Good Remembrance: A Comparative Analysis of the Aramaic Votive Inscriptions from Mount Gerizim (BZAW 441; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2013). On the seals and bullae, see M. J. W. Leith, Wadi Daliyeh I: The Seal Impressions (DJD 24; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997). 11 Given the historical plausibility of this reconstruction, it seems improbable that the same imperial king would reverse course and authorize the building of a new sanctuary in Samaria (Josephus, Ant. 11.322–324).
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Josephus’ larger depiction of Samarian-Judean relations during late Persian and early Hellenistic times. Rather than employing his work as a tool to understand when the Samarian temple was built, I am employing his work as a means to understand how one influential and important early Jewish interpreter dealt with the complexity of Judean-Samarian relations during the era in which he thought the new shrine was constructed. In so doing, I would like to contest the standard theory that Josephus’ account portrays a major cleavage between the Yahwistic communities of Samaria and Judah during the period under view. Instead, the Josephus narrative about the new Samarian shrine may be profitably read in a diametrically opposed way. There is no question that Josephus wishes to present the arrival of a new Samarian temple as a momentous and divisive event in the history of Samarian-Judean relations. Yet, his very depiction of the circumstances leading up to and ensuing from the establishment of a new sanctuary on Mt. Gerizim assumes a range of close links between Yahwists in the two neighboring provinces. Among the very stories of strained relations and intrigue, one also finds tales of religious contacts, voluntary migrations, intermarriage, competitive emulation, sacerdotal blood relations, and cultural transformation. Rather than effectively rupturing relations between Samaria and Judea, the rise of the new shrine is paradoxically associated with a strengthening of bilateral ties between Judeans and their Samarian neighbors. In what follows, I shall discuss the thrust of Josephus’ narration, raising questions about some aspects of his presentation and commenting on others that have been neglected in treatments asserting a Samarian-Judean schism. Special attention will be paid to how Josephus contextualizes and explains the origins of the house of Yhwh on Mt. Gerizim. The focus will then shift to the effects of that new institution on life in Samaria and Judah.
I. From Darius to Alexander: The Origins of the Samarian Temple The book of Ezra-Nehemiah refers to a so-called mixed marriage between an unnamed daughter of the governor of Samaria (Sanballat) and an unnamed son of Joiada (and grandson of Eliashib) the high priest of Judah (Neh 13:28). The Judean governor summarily expelled the priest in question, because Nehemiah thought his actions defiled the priesthood (Neh 13:29).12 A much more detailed 12 This is too large an issue to tackle here. See the discussions in W. Rudolph, Esra und Nehemia (HAT 20; Tübingen: Mohr, 1949), 210–11; H. G. M. Williamson, Ezra, Nehemiah (WBC 16; Waco: Word, 1985), 399–402; J. Blenkinsopp, Ezra-Nehemiah: A Commentary (OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1988) 362–66; S. Olyan, “Purity Ideology in Ezra-Nehemiah as a Tool to Reconstitute the Community,” JSJ 35 (2004): 4–10; R. A lbertz, “Purity Strategies and Political Interest in the Policy of Nehemiah,” in Confronting the Past: Archaeological
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and elaborate story, containing a few of the same plot elements as well as many new ones, is found in the work of Josephus. He (Ant. 11.302–303) depicts an incident in the late-4th century BCE (not the 5th century) involving Sanballat’s daughter Nikaso marrying a brother of the Judean high priest Jaddua named Manasseh. The satrap Sanballat, whose Cuthean origins were, according to Josephus, the same as those of the Samarian people, assented to such an intermarriage (ἐπιγαμία), because he recognized Jerusalem’s renowned stature and the troubles its former kings created for the entire region under the Assyrians (Ant. 11.303).13 In other words, Sanballat’s endorsement of the marital alliance was rooted in geopolitical expediency, rather than in some sense of religious affiliation or native solidarity with Jerusalem’s high-priestly regime. Reflecting a calculated recognition on Sanballat’s part of Jerusalem’s international standing and historic importance, the matrimony created a blood affiliation, where none previously existed. Yet, if Sanballat hoped ‘to gain the goodwill of the entire Judean people’ (γενήσεσθαι πρὸς τὴν ἀπὸ τοῦ τῶν ’Ιουδαίων ἔθνους παντὸς εὔνοιαν, Ant. 11.303) by means of this diplomatic arrangement, he did not succeed. The Jerusalemite elders protested Manasseh’s high position at the Jerusalem temple, literally his ‘sharing the high priesthood with his brother, while married to a foreigner’ (τοῦ ἀρχιερέως ἀδελφὸν ἀλλοφύλῳ συνοικοῦντα μετέχειν τῆς ἀρχιερωούνης, Ant. 11.306–308).14 Sharing the elders’ discontent, Jaddua consented to bar Manasseh from continuing to serve any longer (Ant. 11.308–309). The elite nuptials between Nikaso and the curiously named Manasseh thus came with unintended consequences.15 Resenting his dismissal and not wishing to divorce his wife, and Historical Essays on Ancient Israel in Honor of William G. Dever (ed. S. Gitin, J. E. Wright, and J. P. Dessel; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2006), 199–206; Grabbe, History of the Jews, 157–59; B. Becking, Ezra, Nehemiah, and the Construction of Early Jewish Identity (FAT 80; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 102–5; K. Weingart, Stämmevolk – Staatsvolk – Gottesvolk? Studien zur Verwendung des Israel-Namens im Alten Testament (FAT II/68; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014), 302–7. 13 The allusion to powerful kings and Jerusalem’s past stature is probably drawn from 1 Esd 2:16–20 (// Ezra 4:12–16). See also Ant. 11.97 (Pummer, Samaritans, 107). The comment about Cuthean ethnicity draws upon Josephus’ earlier presentation of the aftermath of northern Israel’s fall to typecast Samaria’s leader of a later time (Ant. 9.279, 288–290; 10.184). On the texts in question, see also C. T. Begg and P. Spilsbury, Judean Antiquities 8–10 (Flavius Josephus: Translation and Commentary 5; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 200–3. Indeed, the attribution of foreign ethnicity is necessary to confirm that the nuptials were exogamous. Yet, Josephus does not seem to be entirely consistent on the issue. Herod’s marriage to the Samari(t)an Malthake does not receive a verdict of disapprobation (B.J. 1.562; Ant. 17.250). 14 It is unclear what this sharing of the high priesthood came to in practical terms. Josephus does not explain the reference. VanderKam (From Joshua to Caiaphas, 82–83) and P. Spilsbury and C. Seeman ( Judean Antiquities 11 [Flavius Josephus, Translation and Commentary 6A; Leiden: Brill, 2017], 110) discuss some possibilities. 15 On the relevance of the name, see the discussion of Spilsbury and Seeman, Judean Antiquities 11, 106–7.
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Manasseh complained to his father-in-law, who not only pledged to award him the position of high priest, but also, with the consent of King Darius III, promised him the construction of a new temple on Mt. Gerizim.16 The implementation of Sanballat’s pledge was, however, delayed. Given the political turmoil in western Asia in which the Achaemenid regime was quickly losing control of its empire, the sanctuary was not constructed under Darius III (Ant. 11.313–317).17 Following the Macedonian conquest, Sanballat tried again. In this case, he appealed to Alexander the Great’s own sense of political expediency to secure permission from him to build Manasseh a new sanctuary (Ant. 11.310–321). The unusual ethnographic suppositions inherent in Sanballat’s request warrant some discussion. Sanballat made the case to Alexander that his rule would be best served if the power of the Judeans were divided into two (εἰς δύο διῃρῆσθαι τὴν ʼΙουδαίων δύναμιν) so that in the event of an insurrection the people (τὸ ἔθνος) would not stand in solidarity against the rule of their (foreign) kings, as they had done in former times (Ant. 11.323).18 Significantly, Sanballat’s appeal presupposes that Samarians and Judeans belong to the same people. In this passage, the Judeans are construed as historic Israel, encompassing both North and South, one people (ethnos). The usage of Ioudaioi in this comprehensive sense within Josephus’ work is not unique.19 Yet, more often than not, Josephus speaks of Samarians as a separate ethnos from that of the Judeans 16 For the convenience of readers, I am referring to King Darius III Codomannus (ca. 336–330 BCE), but Josephus does not seem to have been aware that there were a succession of three Persian kings named Darius and four named Artaxerxes. 17 Given Josephus’ implication that the temple construction was delayed, I am not inclined to accept the proposition that the two phases of temple construction outlined by the excavators of Mt. Gerizim (Y. Magen, “The Dating of the First Phase of the Samaritan Temple at Mount Gerizim in Light of the Archaeological Finds,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century [ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and R. A lbertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007], 158–60), dating to the mid-5fth century and the late-3rd to early 2nd century, correspond somehow to the story outline in Josephus (pace Dušek, Les manuscrits araméens, 538– 47). The testimony of Josephus may be confused, but he does not posit two different building stages. Dušek may be correct, however, in that the Samarian temple traditions with which Josephus was acquainted related to the second, much enlarged, building phase of the Hellenistic period, rather than those of the earlier Persian period with which he seems to have been unacquainted. Kartveit presents an alternative possibility, namely that Josephus deliberately suppressed the earlier founding of the temple to shorten the time in which the temple existed (Origin, 95). 18 In Nehemiah, the ethnographic suppositions are very different. Nehemiah never speaks of the Samarians and Judeans as comprising one people (ʿam), although some of his actions indicate that the ethnographic, social, and religious realities of his time were more complicated than he was willing to allow (G. N. Knoppers, “Nehemiah and Sanballat: The Enemy Without or Within?” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century [ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and R. A lbertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007], 305–31); N. A mzallag, “The Authority of Ezra and Nehemiah in Light of Differences in Their Ideological Background,” JBL 137 (2018): 271–98. 19 S. S chwartz, “The Judaism of Samaria and Galilee,” HTR 82 (1989): 381–88.
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(e.g., Ant. 10.184; 17.20; 18.85).20 What Sanballat was proposing, according to Josephus, was to divide the Judean people cultically, an action that would generate political benefits for the new imperial regime. It may well be that Josephus projects the voice of Sanballat in the context of opportunistic international diplomacy, rather than presents his own view of Judean-Samarian identity.21 On other occasions, he states that Samarians typically profess kinship to Judeans, when times are good for Judeans, but disavow such kinship, when times are bad (Ant. 9.291; 11.341; 12.257, 261).22 There is another fascinating aspect of the Samarian governor’s request. The very wording of Sanballat’s appeal presupposes a shared Judean-Samarian concept of unified worship (Deut 11:31–12:31) focused at the Jerusalem temple. The claim by Samaria’s governor presupposes that the Jerusalem sanctuary enjoyed operational jurisdiction, at least in principle, over both Judah and Samaria (Josephus, Ant. 11.321–324). The two adjacent administrative districts, whatever their political and administrative differences, were up to this point religiously united. Against this background, one can readily understand why many have concluded that the construction of a temple on Mt. Gerizim resulted in a Judean-Samarian schism. The new sanctuary purportedly broke the pan-Israelite Jerusalem monopoly on unified worship, thus dividing the Judean ethnos. Yet, there are acute problems with such an interpretation. The theory assumes what it needs to prove, namely that the Samarians and the Judeans were religiously united around one major sanctuary (Jerusalem) centuries before the Samarians split off to build their own sanctuary and formed their own separate religion. Historically, there are serious difficulties with positing a major schism whether in the 4th century or earlier.23 Such an implausible scenario also fails to find support in Josephus’ own references to Samarian history. In his comments on worship in the former northern kingdom, Josephus does not present the Cutheans ( )הכותיםas affirming, much less embracing, centralized worship in Jerusalem.24 Reworking his Vorlage (a version of 2 Kgs 17:24–33), Josephus comments on the cultic adjustments made by Cuthean immigrants in the late-8th century in the area of the former northern kingdom (Ant. 9.288–290).25 Faced with a severe pestilence, these settlers 20
L. H. Feldman, Studies in Hellenistic Judaism (AGSU 30; Leiden: Brill, 1996), 117–26. if so, Josephus relies on his readers to discern the diplomatic subterfuge, because Josephus does not correct or qualify the assertion of the Samarian governor. 22 Kartveit, Origin, 80–85; Pummer, Samaritans, 270–85. 23 Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 217–39. 24 Spilsbury and Seeman ( Judean Antiquities 11, 31) point out that Josephus upholds the temple as being receptive to worship by foreigners (Ant. 8.116; 11.87) in accordance with one of the petitions of Solomon’s dedicatory prayer (1 Kgs 8:41–43//2 Chr 6:32–33), even if Josephus never presents the Samaritans as taking advantage of the temple’s receptivity to outsiders. 25 Josephus consistently lumps all five peoples mentioned in 2 Kgs 17:24 under the nomen21 Yet,
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learned from repatriated priests how to worship the greatest god and did so with great zeal (Ant. 9.289–290).26 The cultural corrections enabled the émigrés to survive, but Josephus does not address whether these colonists either accepted the doctrine of centralization or recognized the unrivalled sanctity of the Jerusalem temple. Josephus does not mention the immigrants reusing old Israelite sanctuaries. In this respect, Josephus’ presentation differs from that of his source (2 Kgs 17:24–41). Indeed, in speaking of the Assyrian state-sponsored colonists becoming educated in the ordinances and reverence for this deity and worshiping him with tremendous zeal, Josephus (Ant. 9.290) presents a less ambiguous portrait of Cuthean religious practices than Kings does. In his discussion of the Judahite monarchy, Josephus follows Kings and (especially) Chronicles in speaking of royal Judahite campaigns led by Hezekiah (2 Chr 30:5–31:21) and Josiah (2 Kgs 23:15–20; 2 Chr 34:1–35:18) as reforming northern religious practices (Ant. 9.264–267; 10.52–54, 66–70).27 Nevertheless, Josephus presents the recipients of such reforms as surviving northern Israelites (not Cutheans).28 To my knowledge, he never discusses the possible relationship between the northern Israelite remnant presupposed in his northern reform accounts and the Cuthean settlers (= Samarians/Samaritans; Ant. 9.290; 10.184) inhabiting the land.29 In any event, Josephus does not assert that the royal Judahite reform efforts had any lasting impact. Quite the contrary, the most consistent and enduring image that emerges from his work is that Samaria was populated by Cuthean immigrants, who duplicitously professed descent from the ancestors Ephraim and Manasseh (e.g., Ant. 11.341), when it suited them to do so. Consistent with this depiction, he presents the Samarians as ringleaders in the repeated attempts by outsiders to block the rebuilding of the Jerusalem temple in the early Persian period (Ant. 11.19–20, 84–88, 114–119, 174–175).30 In short, Josephus’ portrayal of Sanballat’s proposition to divide the Judean people by clature of one of them: the Cutheans (Χουθαῖοι); Kippenberg, Garizim und Synagoge, 115; Pummer, Samaritans, 80. 26 In so doing, Josephus moves beyond the claims made in either the MT or the LXX. S ee Pummer, Samaritans, 67–76. 27 Begg and Spilsbury, Judean Antiquities Books 8–10, 194–99, 222–28. 28 Josephus does not mention, as Chronicles repeatedly avers, that northern Israelites sometimes journeyed to Jerusalem, participated in national Passovers, and supported refurbishing the Jerusalem shrine (2 Chr 30:1–14; 34:8–11; 35:1–19). See further, G. N. K noppers, “Israel or Judah? The Shifting Body Politic and Collective Identity in Chronicles,” in Rethinking Israel: Studies in the History and Archaeology of Ancient Israel in Honor of Israel Finkelstein (ed. O. Lipschits, Y. Gadot, and M. A. Adams; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2017), 173–88. 29 To complicate matters, his work repeatedly asserts that the exile of the northern tribes was comprehensive: ‘He (Salmanasses) transported all of the people (πάντα τὸν λαόν) to Media and Persia’ (Ant. 9.278; cf. 9.280; 10.184). 30 In so doing, he goes way beyond his principal source (1 Esdras; Pummer, Samaritans, 81–102; Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 135–68). See also M. Kartveit, “Josephus on the Sa-
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erecting a new cultic establishment at Mt. Gerizim stands in some tension with his own earlier presentation of Samarian cultic practices. Either the writer is unaware of this contradiction or, as seems more likely, he is casting Sanballat as strategically misleading the Macedonian emperor to secure an imperial concession to construct a new shrine. Yet, the bid for religious independence is more apparent than real. Having been successful in gaining Alexander’s permission, Sanballat proceeded to build a temple, like the temple in Jerusalem, on Mt. Gerizim (Ant. 11.310–311; 11.321– 324).31 In other words, the Samarian shrine did not radically depart in its structure, appurtenances, and internal design from the Judean shrine. The two were, in fact, quite similar. Moreover, the construction of the new sanctuary was rooted in a spirit of competitive emulation, rather than in compliance to any divine norm or command.32 Because a theophany or angelophany accompanies neither the project (cf. 1 Sam 24:16–17; 1 Chr 21:16–19) nor its successful completion (cf. 1 Kgs 8:1–13; 9:1–9; 2 Chr 5:2–6.3; 7:1–3, 12–22), the new shrine appears purely as a human endeavor. Interestingly, Josephus does not clarify why Sanballat sought to construct a sanctuary specifically on Mt. Gerizim. Why not build the sanctuary in another historic town within the province, such as Shechem or Samaria? The closest Josephus comes to providing an explanation is in his comment (Ant. 11.310– 311) that Mt. Gerizim was the highest [sic] of all the mountains near Samaria.33 Otherwise, the choice goes unexplained. Josephus does not mention the references to Mt. Gerizim in the Pentateuch (Deut 11:29; 27:11) that present Mt. Gerizim as a place of divine favor.34 In some textual traditions, Israel is even instructed to build an altar of unhewn stones on Mt. Gerizim (so SP and OL Deut 27:4–7; MT Mt. Ebal) and to present burnt offerings and offerings of well-being there, rejoicing ‘before Yhwh your God.’35 These texts are extrememaritans – His Tendenz and Purpose,” in Samaria, Samarians, Samaritans: Studies on Bible, History, and Linguistics (SJ 88; StSam 6; ed. J. Zsengellér; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2011), 109–20. 31 Spilsbury and Seeman, Judean Antiquities 11, 109–13, 118–119. 32 The stress on Mt. Gerizim’s dependence upon an older and long-established exemplar is also found in Ant. 13.256. 33 Mt. Ebal is higher (940 meters above sea level) than Mt. Gerizim is (883 meters above sea level), but the difference may not have been evident to Josephus. 34 Cf. Gen 49:26; Deut 33:15. In the SP, the 10th commandment includes a mandate to set up stones on which the words of the Torah are to be inscribed and an altar constructed with whole stones on Mt. Gerizim (SP Exod 20:17b; Deut 5:18b). That such an exegetical maneuver was executed indicates that the interpretation and application of Deut 11:29–30; 27:2–13 had become a contentious issue in the last two centuries BCE. 35 On the textual issues, see A. S chenker, “Le Seigneur choisira–t–il le lieu de son nom ou l’a–t–il choisi?” in Scripture in Transition (ed. A. Voitila and J. Jokiranta; JSJSup 126; Leiden: Brill, 2008), 339–51; G. N. K noppers, “Parallel Torahs and Inner-Scriptural Interpretation: The Jewish and Samaritan Pentateuchs in Historical Perspective,” in The Pentateuch: International Perspectives on Current Research (ed. T. Dozeman, K. Schmid, and B. Schwartz; FAT 78; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 507–31. Josephus’ version of the Deuteronomic instruc-
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ly important in Samaritan tradition, because they point to the privileged status of Mt. Gerizim.36 In his comments on these critical passages in Deuteronomy, Josephus (Ant. 4.307) stresses that recording the blessings and curses was meant to ensure that ‘their lesson might never be lost through time.’ Yet, the presentation of burnt offerings and other sacrifices on the altar at Mt. Ebal was to be an exceptional event, not to be repeated, ‘for that would not be lawful’ (οὐ γὰρ εἶναι νόμιμον; Ant. 4.308). That Josephus felt compelled to offer such a clarification shows that he was aware of a critical issue in his source. Did the stipulations of Deut 27:5–7 point simply to a one-time event (so Judeans) or to a foundational event to be associated with implementing unified worship in the land (so Samarians)? Josephus’ declaration that the sacrifice was a unique occurrence demonstrates that he was aware of the hermeneutical problem and felt it necessary to defend the Judean position. The issue of pan-Israelite altar sacrifices reappears in Josephus’ account of the Israelite settlement (based on his interpretation of his Joshua Vorlage).37 Josephus presents a series of corporate ceremonies, the first of which occurs near Jericho immediately after the crossing of the Jordan, involving the establishment of twelve stones from the twelve tribal leaders, the construction of an altar with sacrifices offered to God, and the celebration of Passover at Gilgal (Ant. 5.20–34). A later ceremony occurs at Shechem, involving the erection of the altar mandated by Moses (Ant. 4.305), the positioning of half the Israelite army on Gerizim (Garizein) and the other half on Ebal (Hēbēl), the offering of sacrifices, tions stipulates that the Israelites were to erect the altar in the direction of the rising sun (cf. Deut 11:30), near Shechem between Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal (Ant. 4.305). Josephus’ innovative reworking of the Deuteronomic instructions and their fulfillment in Joshua (Ant. 5.69– 70; cf. MT Josh 8:30–35; LXX Josh 9:2a–f) are the subjects of two essays elsewhere in this collection. 36 C. Nihan, “The Torah between Samaria and Judah,” in The Pentateuch as Torah: New Models for Understanding Its Promulgation and Acceptance (ed. G. N. Knoppers and B. M. Levinson; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 187–223; idem, “Garizim et Ebal dans le Pentateuque,” Sem 54 (2012): 185–210; R. P ummer, “The Samaritans and Their Pentateuch,” in The Pentateuch as Torah: New Models for Understanding Its Promulgation and Acceptance (ed. G. N. Knoppers and B. M. Levinson; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 237–69; Knoppers, “Parallel Torahs,” 507–31; idem, Jews and Samaritans, 194–216; D. R. Nocquet, La Samarie, la Diaspora et l’achèvement de la Torah: territorialités et internationalités dans l’Hexateuque (OBO 284; Fribourg: Academic Press, 2017). 37 The contrasts among the MT, LXX, and DSS fragments of Joshua (4QJoshua a) demonstrate that there was considerable fluidity in the development of this text within antiquity. See E. Ulrich, “4QJoshuaa and Joshua’s First Altar in the Promised Land,” in New Qumran Texts and Studies: Proceedings of the First Meeting of the International Organization for Qumran Studies, Paris 1992 (ed. G. J. Brooke; STDJ 15; Leiden: Brill, 1994), 89–104; idem, “4QJoshua (Pls. xxxii–xxxiv),” in Qumran Cave 4. Vol. 9, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Kings (ed. E. C. Ulrich et al.; DJD 14; Oxford: Clarendon, 1995), 143–52; idem, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Developmental Composition of the Bible (VTSup 169; Leiden: Brill, 2015), 47–65; E. Tov, Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible (3rd rev. ed.; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012), 294–99.
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and the inscription of the curses upon the altar (Ant. 5.69–70; cf. Ant. 4.308).38 This all-Israelite convocation only occurs, however, after the Israelites have subjugated the Gibeonites (Ant. 5.49–57; cf. MT Josh 9:1–27) and defeated a ser ies of royal adversaries (Ant. 5.62–67; cf. Josh 10:1–12:24).39 In brief, Josephus was quite aware of the cultic importance of Shechem, Mt. Gerizim, and Mt. Ebal in earlier Israelite law and lore, but chose not to discuss such traditions in relation to Sanballat’s request to build a sanctuary on Mt. Gerizim. Casting the choice as involving Mt. Gerizim’s status as the tallest mountain near Samaria, Josephus effectively distances the Mt. Gerizim shrine built by Sanballat from any connection with the norms, traditions, and practices of the ancient Israelites.40 Yet, having done so, Josephus has created a significant problem for himself. How will he in the context of the first century CE explain to his readers the similarities between Judean and Samarian institutional rites, practices, and personnel? If Sanballat as a member of the Cuthean race had nothing whatsoever to do with the heritage of ancient Israel, how did the temple apparatus he founded come to resemble the Jerusalem temple apparatus? Why would Manasseh or the Cutheans he served wish to pattern the rites of the new sanctuary after those carried out in Jerusalem? To these questions, we shall now turn.
II. Segregation or Integration? The Impact of the Mt. Gerizim Sanctuary on Judean-Samarian History We have seen that the nuptials linking Manasseh, a member of the Jerusalemite high-priestly family, with Nikaso the daughter of the governor of Samaria, eventually resulted in the building of a new sanctuary on Mt. Gerizim at which Manasseh could officiate as high priest. Interestingly, both Josephus and his biblical sources agree that priestly intermarriage was not a one-off phenomenon.41 Both the authors of Ezra-Nehemiah and Josephus (Ant. 11.145–152), in spite of the important differences between them, acknowledge that priestly in38 In contrast, Joshua writes a copy of the Torah (or of Deuteronomy – so the LXX) on the altar stones (MT Josh 8:32; LXX Josh 9:2c). See further “Altared History: Israel’s Four Altars in Josephus’ Reworking of the Joshua Story,” elsewhere in this volume. 39 In other words, the national celebration postdates the complete conquest of the land and predates the tribal land distributions (Ant. 5.71–92; cf. Josh 13:1–21:40). 40 Rather than representing a calculated attempt to divide the Judean ethnos, the construction of a shrine on Mt. Gerizim was designed to fulfill the dictates of a prestigious sacred writing (Deuteronomy); see Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 194–216. 41 By comparison, this is not an important theme in the relevant (medieval) Samaritan sources in part, because Samaritans do not view Jews as non-Israelite. See “Samaritan Conceptions of Jewish Origins and Jewish Conceptions of Samaritan Origins: Any Common Ground?” elsewhere in this volume.
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termarriage was repeatedly practiced in postmonarchic Judah. The case of Ezra’s marriage reforms involves priestly lineages (including that of Jeshua’s house), Levitical lineages, and laypersons (Ezra 10:18–44).42 In discussing Manasseh’s exogamy, Josephus concedes that many priests and Israelites (πολλῶν δὲ ἱερῶν καὶ Ἰσραηλιτῶν) were involved in such miscegenation and that these people, attracted by inducements of money, responded by deserting to Manasseh, settling in Samaria (Ant. 11.312). If one lends credence to Josephus’ account, the occurrence of intermarriage was not so unusual. What was unusual was both that such a high-level elite matrimony had been deliberately arranged and that many of the other Judeans and Judean priests practicing exogamy moved to Samaria, following the completion of a new sanctuary on Mt. Gerizim. In other words, the prospect of a Samarian temple did not result in a fracture in relations between members of the two communities. Quite the contrary, the movement toward creating the new cultic establishment, coupled with the blandishments offered by Manasseh, attracted an influx of Judeans and Judean priests into Samaria. Interestingly, Josephus mentions other important contacts between Judeans and Samarians that involve active Judean support for the new Samarian sanctuary. When Sanballat tenders his request to Alexander, he mentions the willing aid of many of Manasseh’s compatriots for the proposed project (Ant. 11.322). In other words, some Judean priests favored the establishment of another temple in the land of Israel. Josephus thus concedes that the Mt. Gerizim sanctuary enjoyed backing by an indeterminate number of Judean priests. Alternatively, one could dispute Sanballat’s assertion of Judean sacerdotal support as a case of Samarian propaganda, but Josephus does not question or qualify the claim. What is more, Josephus provocatively claims that Shechem, the Samarians’ ‘mother city’ (μετρόπολις) of that time, was inhabited by renegade Judeans (ἀποστατῶν τοῦ ’Ιουδαίων ἔθνους; Ant. 11.340).43 In another context, Josephus avows that whenever a Jerusalemite would commit a sin, such as violating the 42 Although the texts in Ezra 7–10 do not specifically mention any cases of intermarriage involving Samarians. Indeed, neither Samaria nor the Samarians appear in this section of the book. See “Archenemies? Samarians and Judeans in the Early Persian Period,” earlier in this volume. 43 On the translation and its significance, see Pummer, Samaritans, 124–25 (cf. Egger, Josephus Flavius, 78). The settlement in Shechem was earlier thought to have ended ca. 475 BCE (G. E. Wright, Shechem [New York: McGraw-Hill, 1965], 167; N. L. Lapp, Shechem IV: The Persian-Hellenistic Pottery of Shechem/Tell Balâțah [Boston: ASOR, 2008], 5–6, 19–39), but recent comparative analysis indicates that it may well have continued to the 4th century (E. Stern, Archaeology of the Land of the Bible, 2: The Assyrian, Babylonian, and Persian Periods 732–332 BCE [ABRL; New York: Doubleday, 2001], 427–28). A group of Samarian refugees likely resettled Shechem following the establishment of a Macedonian settlement in the capital of Samaria (Wright, Shechem, 180–91), but there is no evidence that Shechem was the major urban center of the Samarians at this earlier time. Josephus may have confused the realities of a later time with conditions of the late-4th century.
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Sabbath or consuming unclean food, he would take flight to the Shechemites, claiming that he had been unfairly banished (ἀδίκως ἐκβεβλῆσθαι; Ant. 11.346– 347).44 If Shechem did indeed have a mixed population, this was partly because it proved to be a magnet for dissident Judeans.45 Such assertions of voluntary Judahite migrations to and inhabitation of areas within Samaria play havoc with the common supposition of a binary opposition between the two groups. From Josephus’ vantage point, the Judeans residing within Shechem were defectors, but they were Judeans nonetheless. Returning to the high-level marital union linking a member of the Jerusalem temple establishment with the daughter of the governor of Samaria, it is important to recognize that Josephus does not take issue with the bloodlines of the deserting priest in question. He openly acknowledges the high (Aaronide) pedigree of the priest, who took his leave from Jerusalem. This suggests that Josephus seemingly accepts the presence of an Aaronide, albeit compromised, priesthood in Samaria, but views this priesthood as derivative of the Aaronide priesthood found in Jerusalem.46 A related question should be raised in connection with Josephus’ stories about the Mt. Gerizim sanctuary: was the arrival of the new shrine a sign of the neighboring societies in Samaria and Judah moving decisively apart, remaining much the same, or actually drawing closer to one another? Paradoxically, the very evidence cited from Josephus’ Antiquities to demonstrate that a Samarian schism took place in the 4th century actually points to increased contacts between the two areas. If one pays close attention to Josephus’ claims about the history of this time, one may conclude that Yahwistic Judeans and Yahwistic Samarians became more closely allied in a number of important respects than they had been previously. Josephus’ account implies several commonalities shared by Judeans and Samarians. If the Samarians and Judeans were not (or had not become more) closely related, there would not have been such defections, intermarriages, and migrations. Samaria in general and Mt. Gerizim in particular would not have become an attractive destination for those many Judeans who supported Manasseh or who found fault with their own cultic establishment for one reason or another, unless they saw in Samaria a kindred culture. Josephus’ history implies, therefore, a significant mixing of the Judean and Samarian Yahwistic populations, at least within Samaria.
44
Or (textual variant): egkeklēsthai, ‘accused.’ Search for the Origins, 137. 46 In (medieval) Samaritan tradition, the opposite is true. The Ithamaride branch of the Aaronide priesthood in Shiloh (connected to the later priesthood in Jerusalem) is related to but represents a breakaway group from the lineage officiating at the older Mt. Gerizim sanctuary (see Knoppers, “Samaritan Conceptions,” elsewhere in this volume). In both cases, however, the writers acknowledge the Aaronide nature of the breakaway cultic establishment. 45 Nodet,
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Conclusions In his monograph on Samaritan origins, Kartveit argues that Josephus’ story about the new temple on Mt. Gerizim should be considered as a second founding myth for the Samarians, explaining the genesis of their central sanctuary and its related ritual practices.47 In his writing, Josephus casts aspersions upon the Samarians by referring to their allegedly foreign origins, opportunistic policies, loose morals, and derivative sanctuary.48 There is much to be said for this theory, because Josephus provides his readers with multiple explanations of the Yahwistic Samarians – their origins, identity, and institutions. The question that may be raised is: what are the purpose and the function of this second founding myth? If the first myth pertaining to a much earlier time defines Samarian identity as that of outsiders, Assyrian-sponsored immigrants who eventually learned to practice some native Israelite customs and to worship “the greatest god of the land” (2 Kgs 17:24–33a; Josephus, Ant. 9.288–290), why include a second myth? It serves, in my judgment, two related but separate functions. First, it implicitly recasts the Samarians as belonging to the same larger people (ethnos) as the Judeans. Josephus does not explain how the Samarians were or had become part of the Judean people, but his story about how the Samarians came to establish their own sanctuary, separate from that of the sanctuary in Jerusalem, presupposes both that they formerly lacked their own sanctuary and that they previously had been expected to support the Jerusalem temple establishment. The second function of this new founding myth is to explain the partial Judaization of Samaria, although Josephus does not put the matter in these terms. With the construction and Aaronide staffing of a temple on Mt. Gerizim, the Samarians became ironically more like their Judean counterparts. Like the Judeans, the Samarians now had their own central sanctuary, modeled after the central sanctuary in Jerusalem. Acknowledging that many Judeans settled in Samaria illumines why the practices of the Samarians and Judeans were so similar.49 Indeed, casting the inhabitants of Shechem as renegade Judeans serves the larger purpose of explaining to outsiders why their inhabitants might appear, for all intents and purposes, to be Judean. Describing in considerable detail how the brother of the Aaronide high priest in Jerusalem defected to Samaria to oversee the construction and management of a new temple at Mt. Gerizim, explains why the same Aaronide family came to administer two different major sanctuaries. 47 Kartveit,
Origin, 90–96. Origin, 71–108; cf. Pummer, Samaritans, 150–52. In addition to this second myth (the first appears in Ant. 9.288–290), Kartveit (Origin, 96–100) argues for the existence of a third founding myth in the story of the Sidonians of Shechem (Ant. 11.344; 12.258–263). 49 Grabbe, “Judean Restoration,” 241. 48 Kartveit,
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As a result of significant Judean migrations northward, mixed marriages, priestly defections, emulative temple construction, and the appointment of a supervising Aaronide priest from the reigning high priestly family in Jerusalem, this area of Samaria becomes increasingly Judean. The stress on the decidedly derivative nature of northern religion paradoxically reinforces the image of its Judean-like character. The Judean ethnos may be divided by the construction of a new sanctuary, but the people in Samaria supporting the new sanctuary become ironically more Judean, because of the new ethnic, demographic, and sa cerdotal developments within their land. Josephus presents Samarian-Judean history according to a clearly Judeo-centric perspective, yet what he concedes is as telling as what he asserts. In his portrayal of the past, he acknowledges that the erection of a Yahwistic sanctuary in the North did not entail a complete breakdown of bilateral contacts between the two neighboring areas. Quite the contrary, the two districts came to share more things in common than they did before. If one wishes to employ the work of Josephus to reconstruct Samarian history in late Persian and early Hellenistic times (a dubious proposition), one has to accept that the establishment of a temple cultus on Mt. Gerizim was in no small measure a Judean enterprise.
Part Three
Altered Altars
Chapter Eight
Altared States: Rewriting the Constitution in Josephus’ Antiquitates Judaicae In Josephus scholarship, there has been a longstanding debate over whether Josephus was anti-Samaritan or merely reflected the assumptions and prejudices of his time.1 Was he actively antagonistic, largely indifferent, or profoundly ambivalent toward the Samaritans? These are important questions, but difficult to address in light of the large corpus of writings authored by the Flavian histori1 The topic has occasioned a good deal of interest in recent decades. See, e.g., A. Spiro, “Samaritans, Tobiads, and Judahites in Pseudo-Philo,” PAAJR 20 (1951): 279–355; H. G. K ippenberg, Garizim und Synagoge (Religionsgeschichtliche Versuche und Vorarbeiten 30; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1971); R. J. Coggins, Samaritans and Jews (Atlanta: John Knox, 1975); idem, “The Samaritans in Josephus,” in Josephus, Judaism, and Christianity (ed. L. H. Feldman and G. Hata; Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1987), 257–73; R. Egger, Josephus Flavius und die Samaritaner (NTOA 4; Freiburg: Universitätsverlag, 1986); S. Schwartz, “The ‘Judaism’ of Samaria and Galilee,” HTR 82 (1989): 377–91; F. Dexinger, “Der Ursprung der Samaritaner im Spiegel der frühen Quellen,” in Die Samaritaner (ed. F. Dexinger and R. P ummer; Wege der Forschung 604; Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1992), 76–103; L. H. Feldman, “Josephus’ Attitude toward the Samaritans: A Study in Ambivalence,” in Jewish sects, Religious movements, and Political Parties: Proceedings of the Third Annual Symposium of the Philip M. and Ethel Klutznick Chair in Jewish Civilization (ed. M. Mor; Omaha, NB: Creigh ton University Press, 1992), 23–45; A. Kasher, “Josephus on Jewish-Samaritan Relations under Roman Rule (BCE 63–CE 70),” in Essays in Honour of G. D. Sixdenier (ed. A.D. Crown and L. Davey; Studies in Judaica 5; Sydney: Mandelbaum, 1995), 217–36; É. Nodet, S. Bardet, and Y. Lederman, Les antiquités juives: Flavius Josèphe (5 vols.; Paris: Cerf, 1990–2010); C. G. T hornton, “Anti-Samaritan Exegesis Reflected in Josephus’ Retelling of Deuteronomy, Judges, and Samuel,” JTS 47 (1996): 125–30; É. Nodet, A Search for the Origins of Judaism: From Joshua to the Mishnah (JSOTSup 248; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997); idem, Samaritains, Juifs, temples (CahRB; Paris: Gabalda, 2010); J. Zsengellér, Gerizim as Israel: Northern Tradition of the Old Testament and the Early History of the Samaritans (Utrechtse Theologische Reeks 38; Utrecht: University of Utrecht, 1998); I. Hjelm, The Samaritans and Early Judaism (JSOTSup 303; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000); eadem, “The Samaritans in Josephus’ Jewish ‘History,’” in Proceedings of the Fifth International Congress of the Société d’Études Samaritaines (ed. H. Shehadeh and H. Tawa with R. P ummer; Paris: Geuthner, 2005), 27–39; L. L. Grabbe, A History of the Jews and Judaism in the Second Temple Period, 1 (LSTS 47; London: T. & T. Clark, 2004); idem, A History of the Jews and Judaism in the Second Temple Period, 2 (LSTS 68; London: T. & T. Clark, 2008); M. Mor, “Putting the Puzzle Together,” in Proceedings of the Fifth International Congress of the Société d’Études Samaritaines, 41–54; M. Kartveit, The Origin of the Samaritans (VTSup 128; Leiden: Brill, 2009); idem, “Josephus on the Samaritans – his Tendenz and Purpose,” in Samaria, Samarians, Samaritans, Proceedings of the Sixth International Congress of the Société d’Études Samaritaines (ed. J. Zsengellér; StSam 6; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2011), 109–20; R. P ummer, The Samaritans in Flavius Josephus (TSAJ 129; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009).
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an.2 It is quite possible that a number of considerations shaped Josephus’ views and that these views may have shifted over time as this author wrote about a range of topics.3 It also seems likely that because Josephus’ subject matter is so complex – the constitution and history of the Judean people over a lengthy period of time, some 5,000 years by his account (Ant. 1.1–17) – discerning a stable and unwavering position(s) on any topic, especially something peripheral to the author’s main interests may prove elusive. Much of the debate about Judea’s northern neighbor has been tied to what the Flavian historian says on scattered occasions about the Samaritans – their origins, ethnic composition, temple, priesthood, public behaviors, and relations with the Jews.4 This is only appropriate, but the present work takes a different approach. The focus of this essay will be on Josephus’ interpretation of the Pentateuch that Jews and Samaritans shared as their holy scriptures.5 If Samaritan/ Jewish issues were current during the time of Josephus, one might expect to see indications of such tensions in Josephus’ exegesis of key texts. The discussion will be limited to analyzing the three major altars Josephus overtly acknowledges in his rewriting of pentateuchal laws – the tabernacle bronze altar (Exod 27:1–8), the altar at “the place” of God’s own choosing (Deut 11:31–12:31), and
2 Pummer provides a helpful overview of recent scholarship, Samaritans in Flavius Josephus, 48–59. 3 Thus, for example, S. J. D. Cohen argues that Josephus’ Antiquitates Judaicae exhibits a more polemical stance toward the Samaritans than his earlier Bellum Judaicum does, Josephus in Galilee and Rome (Leiden: Brill, 1979). 4 His understanding of the origins of the Samaritans and the early history of their dealings with the Jews is a rather complicated matter, because he provides multiple and discrepant accounts of how Yahwistic Samarians came to populate the area north of Judah, F. Dexinger, “Der Ursprung der Samaritaner im Spiegel der frühen Quellen,” in Die Samaritaner (ed. F. Dexinger and R. P ummer; Wege der Forschung 604; Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1992), 76–103; Kartveit, Origin, 71–108; Pummer, Samaritans in Flavius Josephus, 55–152; G. N. K noppers, Jews and Samaritans: The Origins and History of Their Early Relations (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013). See also “The Samaritan Schism or the Judaization of Samaria? Reassessing Josephus’ Account of the Mt. Gerizim Temple,” elsewhere in this volume. 5 On the development of the SP and its relations with the MT and LXX, see F. M. Cross, “The History of the Biblical Text in the Light of the Discoveries in the Judaean Desert,” HTR 57 (1964): 281–99; J. E. Sanderson, An Exodus Scroll from Qumran (HSS 30; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986); E. Tov, “The Proto-Samaritan Texts and the Samaritan Pentateuch,” in The Samaritans (ed. A. D. Crown; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1989), 397–407; idem, “The Samaritan Pentateuch and the So-Called ‘Proto-Samaritan’ Texts,” in Studies on Hebrew and Other Semitic Languages Presented to Professor Chaim Rabin on the Occasion of his Seventy-Fifth Birthday (ed. M. H. Goshen-Gottstein, S. Morag, and S. Kogut; Jerusalem: Academon, 1990), 136–46 (Hebrew); idem, Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible (3rd rev. ed.; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012); G. N. K noppers, “Parallel Torahs and Inner-Scriptural Interpretation: The Jewish and Samaritan Pentateuchs in Historical Perspective,” in The Pentateuch: International Perspectives on Current Research (ed. T. B. Dozeman, K. Schmid, and B. J. Schwartz; FAT 78; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 507–31.
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the Shechem area altar (Deut 27:2–13). 6 Given that Josephus borrows from – but does not overtly discuss – the earthen and stone altar laws in the Covenant Code (Exod 20:24–26), some attention will also be devoted to these ordinances. Systematically rearranging, reworking, and augmenting Josephus’ source texts in Exodus and in Deuteronomy, Josephus’ rewritten version of Israel’s ancestral constitution shows a fundamental awareness of major religious issues that divided the Jews and Samaritans of his time, even though he never mentions the Samaritans by name in his discourses about pentateuchal statutes. His work is much more than an extended paraphrase of his biblical sources. Informed by his understanding of Jerusalem temple praxis during Maccabean and Herodian times, Josephus’ Antiquitates Judaicae reflects a sophisticated – albeit selective and ideologically pointed – recasting of pentateuchal law to advance a particular Judean interpretation of the major altar laws to the exclusion of other views. My discussion will begin by exploring Josephus’ peculiar appropriation, modification, and simplification of the various altar laws appearing in the Pentateuch, governing animal sacrifice (Exod 20:24–26; 27:1–8; Deut 11:31–12:31; 27:5–7). I shall argue that Josephus’ creative condensation of biblical law all but collapses the three non-Priestly altar laws (Exod 20:24–26; Deut 11:31–12:31; 27:5–7) into one central altar law. In so doing, Josephus greatly reworks his sources to advance three complementary views. First, he argues that the sacrificial installation in the Shechem area was mandated from the start to be only a temporary altar whose one-time use is intimately tied to the land’s conquest and the solemnization of the law’s blessings and curses. Given that the altar’s limitations belong to the larger constitution Moses bequeaths to the Israelites, the altar becomes a potentially negative testimony against any group (e.g., the Samaritans) that should violate the lawgiver’s explicit protocols by deigning to offer sacrifices at Shechem again. Second, Josephus reworks the timing of the Shechem altar and that of the central altar both to differentiate between them and to advance a pro-Judean reading of the unification of Yahwistic worship within the land. He paradoxically delays the Shechem altar’s construction to conform to the timing of implementing centralization – achieving peace and security for the Israelites within the land (Deut 12:10–12) – and he delays implementation of centralization until Israel establishes a “holy city,” whose location will be revealed through future prophecy. In so doing, he imports the long-term understanding of centralizing worship exemplified by Samuel-Kings into the Torah itself. Third, his reworking of the centralization laws paradoxically turns a defining feature of the Covenant Code stone altar and the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal altar (Exod 20:25–26; Deut 27:5–7) – an unworked stone construction – into a defining feature of the central altar the Israelites are to establish in the land (Deut 6
The following chapter will examine Josephus’ rewriting of Israel’s altar history in Joshua.
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11:31–12:31). He transfers the natural stone construction mandate to the legislation mandating Israel’s unification of worship. The central altar becomes, therefore, a composite structure both in physical manufacture (made from uncut, natural, whitewashed stones) and in literary confection (selectively drawn from all three non-Priestly altar laws). Written in such exclusive terms, the national constitution completely undercuts, as we shall see, the textual basis for viewing the establishment of an ongoing Yahwistic altar in the area of Shechem (e.g., the Samarian altar at Mt. Gerizim) as a legitimate enterprise.
I. The Bronze Altar at God’s “Itinerant and Portable Temple” In his extended treatment of his nation’s ancestral laws, Josephus discusses three altars for animal sacrifice – the bronze altar of the “holy tent” (of meeting), the central altar in the land (Deut 11:31–12:31), and the sacrificial installation the Israelites are to set up near Shechem (Deut 27:2–8). Josephus’ composition presents some challenges, because he transfers traits from some altars to others and does not directly address the relations among the altars he discusses. Nevertheless, his descriptions provide several hints about what role each sacrificial institution is to play in Israelite life. Examining the three different altars in some detail will illumine Josephus’ understanding of what constitutes cultic ortho praxis. Josephus’ first mention of a corporate altar for animal sacrifice appears in his discussion of tabernacle realia. Josephus portrays the tent of meeting Moses was commanded to make as “a portable and itinerant temple” (μεταφερομένου καὶ συμπερινοστοῦντος ναοῦ; Ant. 3.103) and, therefore, the central cultic apparatus ordained for the ritual life of the Israelite people, while they are on the move (Ant. 3.100).7 At this divinely ordained shrine, God would frequent and “be present at our prayers” (παρατυγχάνῃ ταῖς ἡμετέραις εὐχαῖς; Ant. 3.100). 8 The summary exposition of the tabernacle account (Exodus 35–40) includes details about the tent’s measurements and walls (Ant. 3.115–121), interior spaces (Ant. 3.122–124), system of curtains (Ant. 3.123–133), ark (Ant. 1.134–138), table (Ant. 3.139–143), candelabrum (Ant. 3.144–146), and altars (Ant. 3.147–150). Among the sacrificial installations he mentions is the bronze altar – wooden in construction, decorated with gold, and furnished with bronze plates – to be located 7 See further L. H. Feldman, Flavius Josephus, Judean Antiquities 1–4 (Flavius Josephus Translation and Commentary 3; Leiden: Brill, 2000), 256–72. Although viewing the tabernacle as a temporary institution is a common interpretation, it is not intrinsic to the tabernacle account itself. See M. Haran, Temples and Temple–Service in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1978), 196–97. 8 The comments about the tent’s purpose are Josephus’ own, Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4, 256. His remarks may have been influenced by the presentation of the temple as a place of prayer in other biblical writings (e.g., 1 K ings 8; Isa 57:8).
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in front of the tabernacle (Ant. 3.149–150). His brief description largely follows that of his biblical source, albeit with some significant differences, lacunae, and additions. Feature
Antiquitates Judaicae
Biblical Source
Bronze with Wood
3.149
Exod 27:1
Dimensions
3.149
Exod 27:1
Four Horns
—
MT Exod 27:29
Gold Décor
3.149
—
Bronze Plates/Grating
3.149
Exod 27:4
Ground as Receptacle for Burning Ashes
3.149
—
Poles and Sockets
—
Exod 27:7
Hollow Construction
—
Exod 27:8
Cultic Vessels
3.15010
Exod 27:3
9
10
Josephus considers the directions for the construction of the tent of meeting and its appurtenances to have been given to Moses by God (Ant. 3.107), but he evidently thought of the bronze altar as a temporary, albeit pivotal, sacrificial installation, in Israelite life. Instead of Israelites returning to and ascending Mt. Sinai to stand before the presence of God, God graciously descends to the Is raelites, wherever they might travel, to make himself available to his people (Ant. 3.100). The sacrificial institution, like the tent of which it was a part, was tied to Israel’s peregrinations in the wilderness and its settlement in the land.11 As such, the “holy tent” plays a key cultic role in the times of Joshua, the chieftains, and the early monarchy (Ant. 5.68, 70, 150, 170, 343, 345, 357; cf. Judg 20:1; 21:16–22; 1 Sam 1:1–3:21; 10:25).12 The honor of being the permanent installation for animal sacrifices goes, however, to Deuteronomy’s central altar to
9
Lacking in LXX Exod 38:34. cultic vessels, οἰνοχόαι τε καὶ φιάλαι σὺν θυΐσκαις καὶ κρατῆρσιν, (golden) wine carafes and drinking vessels along with censers and mixing bowls, largely differ from those in Exod 27:3, although LXX Exod 27:3 mentions φιάλας (for Heb. )מזרקתיו. See further Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4, 271. 11 See the following chapter in this volume. 12 Following his biblical sources (1 Kgs 8:3–4//2 Chr 5:4–5), Josephus depicts the tent, along with the ark, as being incorporated into the Solomonic Temple during the ceremonies attending its dedication (Ant. 8.101, 104). He does not address the fate of the tent’s bronze altar. Eupolemus fills this gap in his biblical source (a version of Chronicles) by having Moses’ altar of sacrifice brought into the First Temple at the time of its dedication (Eusebius, Praep. ev. 9.34.9). 10 The
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be located at the place of God’s own choosing (12:27).13 To that altar, we now turn.
II. The One Altar at the One Temple in the One Holy City Josephus’ discussion of the one (permanent) altar the Israelites are to build in the land appears in his creative synopsis of and theological elaboration on Deuteronomy’s centralization legislation (Ant. 4.200–201). Interestingly, Josephus begins his extensive discussion of “the constitution” (τὴν πολιτείαν) of the Judeans (Ant. 4.196) by elaborating on the mandate for centralization found uniquely in Deuteronomy (11:31–12:31).14 Integral to this presentation is an articulation of precisely what sort of style of altar the main temple altar is to be. That the Flavian historian begins his treatment of Deuteronomy with the topos of centralization is no accident (Ant. 4.193–201). The author’s selective rewriting and creative amplification of his biblical sources showcases what he considers to be the individuating features of his people’s heritage: one holy city, one particular sanctuary, and one particular altar (Ant. 4.201). These principles cohere, in turn, with the reality that God is one and the Hebrew people are one (Ant. 4.201). There is (or has to be), therefore, a fundamental homogeneity in the ancestral constitution the ancient lawgiver delivered to his people (C. Ap. 2.179).15 13 On the temporary nature of the tent, subordinated to the permanent (Jerusalem) temple, see Josephus’ commentary in Ant. 5.69–70. Yet, he does not depict a natural field stone construction for the altar at the First Temple. Dutifully following his biblical sources (1 Kgs 8:64; 1 Chr 6:34; 16:40; 2 Chr 1:5; 4:1), Josephus presents the First Temple sacrificial installation as a bronze altar, albeit one of much larger dimensions than the bronze altar imagined in the Priestly material in Exodus (27:1–8; Ant. 3.149; 8.22, 101, 105). Like Solomon’s bronze altar in Chronicles (2 Chr 4:1), Solomon’s altar measures 20 cubits in length and breadth and 10 cubits in height (Ant. 8.88). Employed for burnt offerings (πρὸς τὰς ὁλοκαυτώσεις; Ant. 8.88), this bronze installation (τὸ δὲ θυσιαστήριον τὸ χάλκεον) is situated by the priests in front of the sanctuary (πρὸ τοῦ ναοῦ), opposite the door (Ant. 8.105). The latter reference is unparalleled in Kings and Chronicles. Josephus views the Maccabean and Herodian temple altars (closer to his own time) as having been constructed in line with the normative prescriptions found in the Pentateuch (section III below). 14 Josephus casts Moses as Israel’s ancient lawgiver in conformity with Classical models associating ancient lawgivers with the various states they were thought to have shaped and stabilized by introducing the rule of law. Josephus occasionally acknowledges claims for the divine authorship of pentateuchal law (e.g., Ant. 3.322), but his own work stresses Moses’ pivotal role as a foundational figure, who bequeaths to his body politic (πολίτευμα) a formative constitution (πολιτεία; Ant. 1.13–15; 4.196; 20.229, 251, 261; C. Ap. 2.287), D. R. Schwartz, “Josephus on Jewish Constitutions and Community,” Scripta Classica Israelica 7 (1983–1984): 30–52; Feldman, Judean Antiquites 1–4, xxiv–xxix. On the emergence of this motif in late texts within the Pentateuch itself, see my “Moses and the Greek Lawgivers: The Triumph of the Torah in Ancient Mediterranean Perspective,” in Writing Laws in Antiquity / L’écriture du droit dans l’Antiquité (ed. D. Jaillard and C. Nihan; BZAR 19; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2017), 50–77. 15 O. K aiser, “Politeia der Juden nach Josephus Antiquitates IV.196–301,” in ‘Gerechtigkeit
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Josephus begins by alluding to the issue of timing raised in the centralization legislation. In Deuteronomy, the Israelites are to begin sacrificing at only one location, when the Israelites cross over into the land (Deut 11:31–32) or, more specifically, when they find themselves residing securely in the land, enjoying rest from all of their enemies (Deut 12:8–10).16 Josephus overwrites his Vorlage to speak of Israel’s mandate to found cities, when Israel possesses the land of Canaan and has the leisure to enjoy its blandishments (Ant. 4.197–199). Doing what is pleasing to God, Israel will achieve a secure state of contentment (Ant. 4.199). Inasmuch as all of this will occur before centralization, the interpretation extends the time-line found in its source. Josephus initially maintains the anonymity found in Deuteronomy, which obliquely refers to “the place” ()המקום, which Yhwh will choose/has chosen.17 The vagueness in expression may be deemed purposeful, given that Deuteronomy speaks some fourteen times of the place Yhwh has chosen/will choose without ever naming the place.18 The consistent ambiguity in Deuteronomy allowed Yahwistic Judeans and Yahwistic Samarians in Persian and early Hellenistic times to interpret the centralization laws to the benefit of their own sanctuaries in Jerusalem and Mt. Gerizim.19 The Hebrew noun māqôm is inherently vague and could refer to a sacred precinct, a sanctuary, or even a larger area, such as a town, of which the sanctuary was a part.20 In the case of Josephus, he construes “the place” as the “holy city.”21 His paraphrase of the deity’s revelation (Ant. 4.193) declares: “Let there be one holy city in the land of the Canaanites” (ἱερὰ πόλις ἔστω μία τῆς Χαναναίων; Ant. 4.200). Josephus adapts, therefore, the Deuteronomistic reformulation of the centralization formula, “the city/Jerusalem und Recht zu üben’ (Gen 18,19): Studien zur altorientalischen und biblischen Rechtsgeschichte, zur Religionsgeschichte Israels und zur Religionssoziologie – Festschrift für Eckart Otto zum 65. Geburtstag (ed. R. Achenbach and M. A rneth; BZAR 13; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2009), 322–34. 16 Such variation is usually explained by reconstructing stages in the literary growth of the centralization legislation, T. C. Römer, The So-Called Deuteronomistic History: A Sociological, Historical and Literary Introduction (London: T. & T. Clark, 2005), 56–65. 17 On the formula, יבחר לשכן שמו שם/ המקום אשר בחר, found in Deut 12:11; 14:23; 16:2, 6, 11; 26:2, see M. Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School (Oxford: Clarendon, 1972), 325 (no. 3); S. L. R ichter, The Deuteronomistic History and the Name Theology: lešakkēn šemô šām in the Bible and the Ancient Near East (BZAW 318; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2002). 18 In this respect, both the MT ( )יבחרand the SP ( )בחרare entirely self-consistent (Deut 12:5, 11, 14, 18, 21, 26; 14:23, 24, 25; 15:20; 16:2, 6, 7, 11, 15, 16; 17:8, 10; 18:6; 26:2; 31:11). 19 Whether one views the MT ( )יבחרor the SP ( )בחרas the earlier reading, the ambiguity remains. See further my Jews and Samaritans, 169–216. 20 J. Gamberoni and H. R inggren, “ ;מָקֹוםmāqôm,” TDOT 8 (1997): 532–43. 21 The appellation, “the holy city” ()העיר הקדש, is not found in the election formulae occurring within Kings and Chronicles, but is commonly used elsewhere in late sources (Isa 48:2; 52:1; Neh 11:1, 18 [lacking in LXX]; 12:27 [lacking in LXX]; Dan 9:16, 24; Sir 36:12; 2 Macc 1:12; 3:1; 9:14; 15:14; Tob 13:9; 4QDa 20:22; 11QTa 47:3–4, 10–11; 52:19–20; Pr Azar 1:5; Matt 4:5; 27:53; Rev 11:2; 21:2, 10; 22:19). See further E. Otto, “ עִירʿîr,” TDOT 11 (2001) 51–67 (64–66).
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that Yhwh has chosen,” first employed at the dedication of the Jerusalem temple (1 Kgs 8:16 [4QKgsa], 44, 48) and cited at critical points in the Judahite monarchy (1 Kgs 11:13, 32, 36; 14:21; 2 Kgs 21:7; 23:27), and integrates it into the foundational legislation governing the unification of worship.22 Yet, his creative expansion extends beyond the principle of a single divinely elect conurbation: “And let there be one temple within it (καὶ νεὼς εἷς ἐν ταύτῃ ἔστω) and one altar” (καὶ βωμὸς εἷς; Ant. 4.200).23 To sum up: the rewritten ancestral constitution expres ses a divine request for three related institutions: a city, a sanctuary, and an altar.24 It is sometimes maintained that Josephus highlights the Deuteronomic demand (12:13–18) for (Yahwistic) cultic unity (Kultuseinheit) and neglects the corresponding mandate for cultic purity (Kultusreinheit), the elimination of all indigenous sanctuaries and their cultic paraphernalia (Deut 12:2–3, 29–31).25 The point has some merit, because Josephus does not replicate Deuteronomy’s command to eradicate all of the “places” ( )המקמותat which the nations serve their gods in the land, along with their attendant altars, standing stones, asherahs, and images (Deut 12:2–4). Instead, Moses advises the Israelites that they do so (Ant. 4.192).26 Nevertheless, the expectation of cultic purity seems implicit in his blanket declaration that in no other city should there be either an altar or a temple (ἐν ἑτέρᾳ δὲ πόλει μήτε βωμὸς μήτε νεὼς ἔστω; Ant. 4.201). Josephus’ delicate articulation of Deuteronomic statutes underscores the unique mandate and privilege enjoyed by the central sanctuary, leaving no room for other altars or 22 The formula reappears in some parallel texts within Chronicles (2 Chr 6:5, 34, 38; 33:7). Similarly, Ps 132:13 speaks of God’s choice of Zion. In Neh 1:9, the cupholder to the imperial king cites the divine promise to return expatriates “to the place I have chosen” ( אל־המקום ) אשר בחרתיin Deut 30:1–10 to petition the deity to allow Nehemiah to return to his ancestral patrimony. 23 Again, the source text is allusive. No temple of Yhwh ( )בית יהוהis explicitly mentioned in Deut 11:31–12:31. In the Sondergut of Chronicles, one finds a formulation that applies the Deuteronomic election collocation directly to the Jerusalem temple. In the second theophany to Solomon, as that theophany appears uniquely in Chronicles, God informs Israel’s “man of rest” (1 Chr 22:9): “I have chosen (bāhartî) and I have consecrated this temple (wĕhiqdaštî ʾet-habbayit hazzeh) so that my name ˙will be there forever” (2 Chr 7:16). The different applications of the election formula in Kings, Chronicles, Nehemiah, and Psalm 132 indicate that the nature and extent of “the place” spoken of in Deuteronomy was already debated within elite Judahite circles during the late monarchic and postmonarchic periods. See also C. Nihan, “Cult Centralization and the Torah Traditions in Chronicles,” in The Fall of Jerusalem and the Rise of the Torah (ed. P. Dubovský, D. Markl, and J.-P. Sonnet; FAT 107; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016), 253–84. 24 Feldman ( Judean Antiquities 1–4, 399) points to similar assertions that speak of or assume Jerusalem’s unique identity in Josephus, B.J. 7.431; C. Ap. 2.193; Midr. Num Rab. 18.7; Philo, Spec. 1.12.67; Sipre Deut 354; Syr. Apoc. Baruch 48:24. Because Josephus follows his source in speaking of “the land of Canaan” (Ant. 4.200) as the domain that Israel inhabits, the command for one holy city, temple, and altar relate to that land. Hence, the Yahwistic temple built by Onias (IV?) in another land, namely Egypt, during the 2nd century BCE (B.J. 7.426– 431) would not seem to be primarily in view. 25 E.g., Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4, 398–400. 26 A point stressed by Feldman, Judean Antiquites 1–4, 395–96.
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sacrificial shrines in the land – Yahwistic (e.g., the temple at Mt. Gerizim) or otherwise. As for the identity of the “holy city,” the Flavian historian does not refer to Jerusalem by name. Nevertheless, his free exposition leaves little doubt that Jerusalem is meant. When he speaks of the holy city as being located in the land of Canaan’s most beautiful part (γῆς ἐν τῷ καλλίστῳ) and as conspicuous by its eminence (καὶ δι’ ἀρετὴν ἐπιφανεῖ; Ant. 4.200), the writer hints at the outstanding reputation Jerusalem had achieved in the eyes of Judean and non-Judean Hellenistic commentators.27 When the Flavian historian declares that “God will choose” the site “for himself through prophecy” (ἣν ἂν ὁ θεὸς ἑαυτῷ διὰ προ φητείας ἕληται), he again tips his hand, because no such overt declaration is found in the centralization decrees. Josephus is alluding, of course, to Nathan’s oracle in which he announces to David both that Yhwh will build David a house ()בית, that is, a dynasty, and that David’s heir will build Yhwh a house ()בית, that is, a temple (2 Sam 7:1–16//1 Chr 17:1–15).28 Josephus’ discussion shifts, in this case, the timing of implementing centralization from the time Israel crosses over into the land (Deut 11:31–32) or from the time it is safely established in the land (Deut 12:8–12) to a time in which Israel is building cities in the settled land and the divine selection of one holy city is revealed through prophecy. Such an interpretation simultaneously acknowledges ambiguity in its source text and resolves it. The Flavian historian’s account neither explicitly engages nor allows for competing (e.g., Samaritan) interpretations of the centralization laws. He overwrites the laws prescribing one place of animal sacrifice with a view to the interpretations of Deuteronomy found in the Former Prophets and in Chronicles to the exclusion of other views. To this line of argumentation, an objection might be raised. Could not one contend that Josephus simply interprets the centralization legislation in a traditional Judean way to defend Solomon’s establishment of the Jerusalem temple centuries after the Israelites emerged in the land? Josephus certainly follows many of the literary conventions set by the earlier writers of Samuel-Kings and Chronicles, but he does more than this: he rewrites the centralization legislation itself. The writers of Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings readily acknowledge that the path to building a temple in Jerusalem was long and arduous. The times of Joshua, the chieftains, and the early monarchy elapse before David attempts to capitalize on the experience of divinely-awarded peace all-around (2 Sam 7:1) 27 Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4, 398–99. On the physical attractions of the building structures in Jerusalem, see also Josephus, Ant. 8.225–226. 28 There are substantial text-critical issues in Josephus’ sources that complicate the attempt to ascertain his Vorlage; see E. C. Ulrich, The Qumran Text of Samuel and Josephus (HSM 19; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1978); P. K. McCarter, II Samuel (AB 9; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1984), 190–235; G. N. K noppers, I Chronicles 10–29 (AB 12A; New York: Doubleday/New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004), 661–77.
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by building Yhwh a sanctuary in Jerusalem. Even then, the building is not erected until the time of his son (1 K ings 5–8). Josephus defends this extensive timeline by writing it into the constitution itself. That this represents a deliberate rhetorical strategy may be seen by a later concession the writer makes, when he discusses King David’s desire to build a house for Yhwh. Expanding upon David’s instructions to Solomon to build the temple (as imagined in 1 Chr 22:6–16), Josephus has David declare that the ark and the holy furnishings should long have had a temple, “were it not for our ancestors’ disregarding God’s commands to build a temple to him after they had taken possession of the land” (εἰ τῶν ἐντολῶν τοῦ θεοῦ μὴ παρήκουσαν ἡμῶν οἱ πατέρες ἐντειλαμένου μετὰ τὸ τὴν γῆν ταύτην κατασχεῖν οἰκοδομῆσαι ναὸν αὐτῷ; Ant. 7.342). The failure did not consist of the Israelites’ inability (or unwillingness) to conquer all of the land and dislodge all of its aboriginals (e.g., Judg 1:1– 2:5, 17, 20–21, 23), but rather of the Israelites’ negligence in constructing a permanent house of worship upon taking possession of the land. The assertion, unparalleled in the writer’s biblical source (1 Chr 22:6–16), presumes that the nature and extent of Israel’s victories achieved under Joshua were sufficient to warrant the construction of the central sanctuary during this period of unpre cedented peace.29 The comment demonstrates Josephus’ awareness of what Deuteronomy’s centralization legislation actually calls for (and does not call for) as preconditions for building a place for the name of Yhwh. That he provides two different readings of the same text within his work signifies, at the very least, the author’s realization that the source text could be interpreted in various ways. He could have left the matter of identity open, as Deuteronomy does, and clarified his Judean interpretation, as Samuel-Kings does, in his retelling of the united monarchy. That he chose to do otherwise suggests that he wished to preclude competing interpretations. Including the founding of God’s “holy city,” according to what God reveals through a future prophecy (Ant. 4.200) within the centralization laws intimates that the Jerusalemite fulfilment of the centralization mandate is inherent within the mandate itself. We have been discussing how Josephus develops his thesis that Israel’s ancestral constitution speaks distinctively of one holy city, one particular sanctuary, and one particular altar (Ant. 4.201). For Josephus, the tenets are tied to the propositions that “God is one and the race of the Hebrews is one” (θεὸς γὰρ εἷς καὶ τὸ Ἑβραίων γένος ἕν; Ant. 4.201). The former assertion draws from the Shema, יהוה אלהינו יהוה אחד, “Yhwh is our God, Yhwh is one” (Deut 6:4).30 Texts in 29 The source text (1 Chr 22:6–16) does not make any comment on the period of Joshua, G. N. K noppers, I Chronicles 10–29 (AB 12A; New York: Doubleday/New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004), 765–88. 30 Or, “Yhwh is our God, Yhwh alone” (NJPS). The LXX reads: κύριος ὁ θεὸς ἡμῶν κύριος εἷς ἐστιν.
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Samuel-Kings and Chronicles, dealing with the establishment of the Jerusalem temple, are also in view. Josephus alludes to the exclamations of divine incomparability and Israelite incomparability found in David’s prayer, uttered in response to Nathan’s dynastic oracle, announcing that one of David’s offspring will build the shrine that David himself was not allowed to build. Therefore, you are great, O Lord Yhwh, for there is no one like you, and there is no god except for you ()כי אין כמוך ואין אלהים זולתך, according to all that we have heard with our ears. And who is like your people Israel, (the) one nation on the earth (ומי כעמך כישראל גוי )אחד בארץwhom God went forth to redeem as a people and to make for himself a name?31
In these acclamations, the God of Israel enjoys an incomparable and exclusive identity. If the exodus individuates Israel as a people, the divine promises of victory, dynasty, and temple individuate Yhwh as a deity. Picking up on this usage in Samuel-Kings and Chronicles, Josephus situates it within Israel’s ancestral constitution itself. As for the sacrificial installation to be located at the sanctuary situated within the holy city, Josephus’ description of the central altar reveals a clear indebtedness to the prescriptions for altars made of unworked stones found both in the Covenant Code (Exod 20:24–26) and in the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal legislation (Deut 27:2–8). Unlike his source, which mandates a central altar (Deut 12:26– 27), but never addresses its makeup, Josephus articulates what manner of construction the sacrificial installation has to have. Alluding to the Covenant Code legislation (without explicitly citing it), Josephus asserts that the “altar” is to be made “from stones that have not been worked (καὶ βωμὸς εἷς ἐκ λίθων μὴ κατειργασμένων), but picked out and lying (in place) together” (ἀλλὰ λογάδην συγκειμένων; Ant. 4.200).32 Similarly, when Josephus writes: “Let the access to it not be by steps, but by a sloping embankment (ἡ δ᾽ ἐπὶ τοῦτον πρόσβασις ἔστω μὴ διὰ βαθμίδων, ἀλλὰ προσχώσεως αὐτῷ καταπρανοῦς γενομένης), the influence of the Covenant Code proscription – “Do not ascend ( )לא־תעלהby steps ()במעלת upon my altar” (Exod 20:26) – is readily apparent. The influence exercised by the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal legislation is evident, when the author writes that the altar stones are to be “lightly coated with 31 On the allusion to 2 S am 7:22–23, see Nodet, Lederman, and Bardet, Les antiquités juives, 2.50; The version of David’s prayer in the parallel passage of 1 Chr 17:20–21 is also relevant: “O Yhwh, there is no one like you and there is no god except for you, according to everything that we have heard with our ears. And who is like your people Israel, a unique nation on the earth ( ;גוי אחד בארץLXX ἔθνος ἔτι ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς), whom God went forth to redeem as a people for himself to establish for himself a great and marvelous name?” See Knoppers, I Chronicles 10–29, 679–84. 32 Unlike the LXX translators, who consistently use θυσιαστήριον for מזבח, in the case of a Yahwistic altar and βῶμος, in the case of a non-Yahwistic altar, Josephus does not do so. He employs both θυσιαστήριον and βῶμος for a Yahwistic altar ()מזבח, S. Daniel, Recherches sur le vocabulaire du culte dans la Septante (Études et commentaires, 61; Paris: C. Klincksieck, 1966), 15–32.
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plaster, attractive and pleasant to behold” (οἳ κονιάματι χρισθέντες εὐπρεπεῖς τε εἶεν καὶ καθάριοι πρὸς τὴν θέαν). Josephus applies the injunction of Deut 27:2: “You are to set up for yourselves large stones and plaster them with plaster” ( ) והקמת לך אבנים גדלות ושדת אתם בשידto the altar stones: “Of whole stones you are to build the altar of Yhwh” ( ; אבנים שלמות תבנה את מזבח יהוהDeut 27:6), rather than to the stones of the stela: “You are to write upon the stones all the terms of this torah very distinctly” ( ; וכתבת על האבנים את כל דברי התורה הזאת באר הייטבDeut 27:8).33 In the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal legislation, whitewashing the stones prepares the stones for their inscription (Deut 27:2–4). Josephus cites the instruction, applies it to the stones of the altar, omits the command to erect large stones and to inscribe them, and attributes the plastering prescription’s rationale to aesthetic considerations. The indebtedness of Josephus’ centralization legislation to a range of legal and narrative texts is remarkable. Feature
Antiquitates Judaicae
Source
Precondition: Land Settlement and Leisure
4.199
Deut 12:8–12
Founding Cities
4.199
—
Election of Holy City by Prophecy
4.200
2 Sam 7:7–16//1 Chr 17:1–15; 1 Kgs 8:16, 44, 48, etc.
One Temple
4.200
2 Chr 7:12
One Altar
4.200
Deut 12:27
Unhewn Stone Construction
4.200
Exod 20:25; Deut 27:5–6
Smeared with Whitewash
4.200
Deut 27:2, 4
Appealing in Appearance
4.200
—
Sloping Ramp: No Steps
4.201
Exod 20:26
No Other Temples or Altars
4.201
Cf. Deut 12:2–3, 13–14
Informed by his interpretations of Samuel-Kings and Chronicles, Josephus’ reworking of pentateuchal laws makes the Mosaic constitution speak with one voice in favor of one holy city, one temple, and one altar – constructed of unhewn stones, lacking steps, and whitewashed with plaster (Ant. 4.200–201). The creative exposition – both highlighting the unification of worship and the discussion of its constituent parts – reflects systematic reflection. Reviewing Josephus’ substantial expansion and rewriting of the central altar regulations, one may raise three questions about oddities in his discussion. 33
Nodet, Lederman, and Bardet, Les antiquités juives, 2.49.
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First, why does Josephus not follow his biblical source by first discussing the matter of altars (whether composed of earth or of stones; Exod 20:24–26) in the context of his larger discussion of the Ten Words (Ant. 3.85–92; cf. Exod 20:1– 17), as Philo does (Decal. 12.50–28.153)?34 It is clear, as we have seen, that his treatment of the major sacrificial installation in the land draws, in part, upon Covenant Code prescripts, but he does not initiate a discussion of a stone installation until he takes up his discussion of centralized worship. Second, to achieve uniformity in the ancestral constitution, why does Josephus not eliminate the Covenant Code stipulations altogether? Third, given that the centralization legislation does not address the physical composition of the central altar, why does the Flavian historian do so?
III. Is There a Method to Josephus’ Exegetical Madness? One conceivable explanation for these oddities is that Josephus’ rewriting of biblical lore reflects some confusion on his part. There are occasional inconsistencies in his presentation, such as individual discrepancies between what the instructions for a Shechem area altar call for (Ant. 4.305–308) and what Joshua implements in the Cisjordan (Ant. 5.69–70). Hence, the theory that Josephus mistakes one altar for the others or partially does so, offers one possible explanation for the apparent anomalies in his presentation. Nevertheless, I wish to propose an alternative theory, namely that Josephus’ exposition of the different altar laws reflects careful forethought and attention to organization. The details in his discussions are at times inconsistent, but his larger presentation is not confused. Rather, it comprises a complex defense of a particular Judean interpretation of constitutional law, national history, and temple praxis. To address the first question, Josephus does not discuss earthen or stone altars (Exod 20:24–26) in the context of expounding the Ten Words (Ant. 3.85–92; cf. Exod 20:1–17) to avoid having to deal with one of the most important, but from his perspective potentially problematic, features of the Covenant Code statutes, namely the allowance of multiple Israelite earthen and stone sacrificial installations “in every place” ( )בכל המקוםat which Yhwh causes his name to be invoked (MT Exod 20:24). Selectively transferring Covenant Code prescripts governing stone altar composition to the literary context of centralizing worship fulfills three goals simultaneously: filling a perceived gap in the matter of central altar composition, omitting any reference to the divine authorization of multiple altars, and selectively homogenizing the discrepant directives found in his sources. When Josephus speaks of the one Israelite altar being made of natural stones, accompanied by a sloping ramp, and coated with plaster, he com34
See also Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4, 396–400.
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bines elements of the Covenant Code altar legislation (Exod 20:24–26) with those found in the legislation governing the Shechem area altar (Deut 27:2–8) and construes both sets of decrees as normative statutes that have a direct bearing on the unification of worship. Moreover, in the rewritten constitution, these statutes only appear in the mandate for the one altar at the one temple for the one God in the one holy city to be established for the one Hebrew people (Ant. 4.200–201). To address the second and third questions, I would suggest that Josephus’ major expansion of Deuteronomy’s mandate for one altar may be illumined by his understanding of Judean orthopraxis as defined by cultic reforms undertaken during Maccabean and Herodian times. The practices instituted during these temple renovations affect his reimagining of the normative statutes governing the main altar established by Moses. As we shall see, Josephus was not alone in his understanding of the main altar’s composition. Philo of Alexandria and the Mishnah articulate similar views. In his treatment of the Second Temple period, Josephus discusses the new altar built by Judas Maccabee after he and his forces retook the Jerusalem sanctuary and purified it, noting that he dismantled the desecrated altar (of burntoffering) and constructed a new one made of commingled stones (καὶ τὸ θυσιαστήριον καινὸν ἐκ λίθων συμμίκτων ᾠκοδόμησεν), which had not been cut by iron (οὐ λελαξευμένων ὑπὸ σιδήρου; Ant. 12.318). Josephus evidently supplies the last detail, not found in Josephus’ Vorlage of 1 Macc 4:47, to indicate that the reforms undertaken by Judas conformed to biblical law, namely to honor the proscription of Deut 27:5, לא־תניף עליהם ברזל, “You are not to brandish iron upon them,” that is, upon the altar stones. The allusion to Deut 27:5 might suggest that the Flavian historian understands the force of this Shechem area statute to be applicable, in fact, to all Israelite stone altars, and not simply to the sacrificial installation mandated in the vicinity of Shechem (Deut 27:4–8). Yet, the situation is more complex. Josephus cites the prohibition of employing hewn stones in his discussion of the central altar (Ant. 4.200–201), not in his discussion of the Shechem altar (Ant. 4.305, 308). He selectively transfers the prohibitions from the Covenant Code stipulations (Exod 20:24–26) and the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal stipulations (Deut 27:2–8) to the centralization legislation (Deut 11:31–12:31), integrating them into the mandate for the one legitimate altar that is to exist within the land (Deut 12:27). This means that Josephus’ citation of Maccabean conformity with ancestral law (referencing Deut 27:5) comports with Josephus’ own substantially rewritten rendition of pentateuchal altar law, but not with pentateuchal law itself. The Flavian historian revisits the issue of altar construction in his depiction of the temple rebuilding undertaken by Herod the Great.35 In Josephus’ de35 He
also mentions, based on the testimony of his source (1 Esd 5:47; cf. Ezra 3:1), that
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scription of the renovated and much expanded Jerusalem sanctuary, he avers that the new altar was huge: 15 cubits high and 50 cubits in both length and breadth (B.J. 5.225). The size of this sacrificial installation dwarfs the large size of the Chronistic bronze altar – ten cubits in height, twenty cubits in length, and twenty cubits in width (2 Chr 4:1). Nevertheless, ancient standards had enduring value in governing the altar’s construction. Iron (σίδηρος) was not employed in building the altar, nor did iron ever touch the altar (κατεσκευάσθη δὲ ἄνευ σιδήρου, καὶ οὐδέποτ᾽ ἔψαυεν αὐτοῦ σίδηρος; B.J. 5.225).36 The very manner in which the Flavian historian depicts the altar composition underscores its conformity not so much to the prohibition of Exod 20:25, לא תבנה אתהן גזית כי חרבך הנפת עליו ותחללהו, “You must not build it with hewn stones lest you brandish your chisel upon it and profane it,” as to the prohibition found in Deut 27:5, לא־תניף עליהם ברזל, “You are not to brandish iron upon them” (the altar stones). The specific mention of iron reveals Josephus’ familiarity with the Deuteronomic proscription and his desire to demonstrate that the altar assembly fulfilled its demands.37 Yet, as we have seen, Josephus’ rendition of the altar laws only includes the proscription of finished stones in a literary context in which they do not appear in his Vorlage: the mandate for one altar at the one temple in the holy city whose locus will be revealed by prophecy (Ant. 4.200–201). In yet another description of the Jerusalem temple (C. Ap. 1.198), the Flavian historian quotes (Pseudo-)Hecataeus as writing that the main altar had four equal sides (βωμός ἐστι τετράγωνος) twenty cubits in length and ten cubits in height. The dimensions match those of the Chronistic bronze altar (2 Chr 4:1), but there is also a major difference in that this installation was made from
Zerubbabel and Jeshua rebuilt the altar on its former place so that they might offer the requisite sacrifices to God, “according to the Mosaic laws” (κατὰ τοὺς Μωυσέως νόμους; Ant. 11.76). Neither Josephus nor his source address the specific composition of the temple altar, but one may assume, given Josephus’ own renditions of pentateuchal statutes (Ant. 3.149–150; 4.196– 201, 305–308), that he understood this altar to be composed of unhewn stones. On Josephus’ dependence on 1 Esdras (Esdras α), rather than on Ezra, for his portrayal of the early Second Temple period, see K.-F. Pohlmann, Studien zum dritten Esra (FRLANT 104; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1970), 74–126; J. M. Myers, I and II Esdras (AB 42; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1974), 42; A. Schenker, “La relation d’Esdras A’ au text massorétique d’Esdras-Néhémie,” in Tradition of the Text: Studies Offered to Dominique Barthélemy in Celebration of his 70th Birthday (ed. G. J. Norton and S. Pisano; OBO 109; Freiburg: Universitätsverlag, 1991), 218–44; D. Böhler, Die heilige Stadt in Esdras α und Esra-Nehemia: Zwei Konzeptionen der Wiederherstellung Israels (OBO 158; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1997), 308–12; idem, I Esdras (IEKAT; Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2015), 13. 36 J. A. Goldstein, I Maccabees (AB 41; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1976), 285. 37 Similar things may be implied about the main altar at the Leontopolis temple built by Onias (IV?) (B.J. 7.426–431). According to Josephus’ account, the fortress and temple built with the permission of Ptolemy were dissimilar in structure to those of Jerusalem, but Onias built the altar at the new temple as a faithful imitation of the Jerusalem altar (τοῦ βωμοῦ δὲ τὴν κατασκευὴν πρὸς τὸν οἰκεῖον ἐξεμιμήσατο; B.J. 7.428).
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stones.38 The altar was constructed from gathered stones, uncut (and) unfinished (α̉τμήτων συλλέκτων α̉ργῶν λίθων).39 Inasmuch as this detailed description of altar style mentions unwrought stones, it indicates that the altar’s construction complied with the demands of Covenant Code stone altar stipulations (Exod 20:25–26).40 Unlike Josephus, Philo of Alexandria does not comment in detail on the temple’s main altar. In his discussion of Jewish legal traditions (De Specialibus Legibus), Philo observes that the two main temple altars differed both in materials and in the occasions in which they were used. Of these, his greater interest lies with the gold altar employed for frankincense in the temple (Spec. leg. 1.51.274).41 As for the other altar, the stone altar for blood offerings, Philo describes it as being situated in the open air alongside the approaches to the sanctuary. This altar “was constructed of stones picked up and left unfinished” (ὁ μέν γάρ ἐκ λίθων λογάδων άτμητων συνωκοδόμηται; Spec. leg. 1.51.274). Elsewhere, Philo speaks of this apparatus as “the great altar in the open court” (Mos. 2.22.106). One may discern in this Philonic discourse, mentioning the deployment of natural undressed field stones, an active engagement with the tradition of LXX Exod 20:25: “If you make an altar of stones for me (ἐὰν δὲ θυσιαστήριον ἐκ λίθων ποιῇς μοι), do not build them cut (οὐκ οἰκοδομήσεις αὐτοὺς τμητούς), for you have lifted up your tool upon them (τὸ γὰρ ἐγχειρίδιόν σου ἐπιβέβληκας ἐπ᾽ αὐτούς), and they have been defiled” (καὶ μεμίανται).42 In Philo’s description, the stone altar employed for blood offerings closely resembles the type of altar decreed in 38 The text assimilates the Chronistic place of animal and bird sacrifice toward (what is considered to be) the normative unfinished stone altar type. 39 Whether this writer was Hecataeus of Abdera, the Greek historian of the late fourth-early third century BCE, or (more likely) a later Judean author, writing pseudepigraphically, need not concern us in the present context. On the larger issues, see, G. E. Sterling, Historiography and Self-definition: Josephus, Luke-Acts, and Apologetic Historiography (NTSup 64; Leiden: Brill, 1992), 78–91; B. Bar-Kochva, Pseudo-Hecataeus, On the Jews: Legitimizing the Jewish Diaspora (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996), 340; J. C. VanderKam, From Joshua to Caiaphas: High Priests after the Exile (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2004), 115; J. M. G. Barclay, Flavius Josephus, Contra Apionem (Flavius Josephus, Translation and Commentary 10; Leiden: Brill, 2007), 340; R. P ummer, The Samaritans in Flavius Josephus (TSAJ 129; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009), 154. 40 In this case, the specific instructions in Deut 27:5–7 do not seem to be in view. The comment shows familiarity with the verbiage found in LXX Exod 20:25 (οὐκ οἰκοδομήσεις αὐτοὺς τμητούς), but does not mention the use of iron and employs largely different terms from those appearing in LXX Deut 27:5 (οὐκ ἐπιβαλεῖς ἐπ’ αὐτοὺς σίδηρον) and Deut 27:6 (λίθους ὁλοκλήρους οἰκοδομήσεις θυσιαστήριον κυρίῳ τῷ θεῷ σου). 41 B. Bar-Kochva, “Pseudo-Hecataeus, ‘On the Jews,’” in Outside the Bible: Ancient Jewish Writings Related to Scripture (3 vols.; ed. L. H. Feldman, J. L. Kugel, and L. H. Schiffman; Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 2013), 1:714–20 (718). 42 Pesudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum also bears on the issue. He writes that at Gilgal Joshua employed “hefty stones (lapidibus fortissimis) upon which no iron (tools) had been wielded (non intulit in eos ferrum) to construct an altar” (LAB 21.7; cf. Deut 27:5–6; MT Josh 8:31; LXX 9:2b).
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the Covenant Code, implicitly assuming this type of installation as normative for the Israelite people. In this respect, his work reflects the selective merging of discrete legal dicta that one also discerns within Josephus’ work. Tractate Middot of the Mishnah includes an important discussion of the Jerusalem temple altar and its composition. In m. Mid. 3.4 one reads that both the stones of the sloping ascent and those of the altar were taken from the valley of Beth Kerem.43 The stones were quarried from beneath the virgin soil of the valley and lifted from the ground as “whole stones () אבנים שלמות, upon which no iron (tool) had not been brandished” ()שלא הונף עליהן ברזל. The reason for picking only whole stones unsullied by acquaintance with iron is clear: “because iron disqualifies (stones) by contact” ( )שהברזל פוסל בנגיעהand a “blemish (( )והפגימהrenders them disqualified) in every respect” () בכל דבר.44 Safeguarding the stones extended to their continuing care. Although the stones were regularly plastered, those responsible for applying the plaster did not do so with an iron trowel, lest the iron come into contact with the stones and disqualify them (m. Mid. 3.4). In this case, the influence of the Deuteronomy 27 legislation is quite apparent, because it specifically prohibits the use of an iron tool: לא־תניף עליהם ברזל, “You must not brandish iron upon them.” Similarly, the Mishnah’s mention of “whole stones” clearly has the legislation pertaining to Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal in view: אבנים שלמות תבנה את מזבח יהוה אלהיך, “Of whole stones you are to build the altar of Yhwh your God.” Like other early interpreters, the writers of the Mishnah construed the Pentateuch as a fundamentally self-consistent and unified entity.45 They did not view the books of Moses as a variegated collection of assorted stories and laws, stemming from different periods and various authors. To the contrary, they regarded scripture as a coherent and seamless unity. The scribal operations implemented by such early readers are predicated on the premise that “the Pentateuchal Torah of Moses is integral and indivisible.”46 From this vantage point, the borders between books are inconsequential, because the Pentateuch is fundamentally one borderless book.47 It seems evident, then, that the Covenant Code and Mt. Gerizim/Mt.Ebal stipulations about the type of altar construction were considered as statutory law in their own right, regardless of the specific literary contexts in which these stipulations were situated, whether allowing multiple altars (the Covenant Code) or mandating an altar in northern Israel. From this perspective, the Deu43 On the site (Ramat Rachel), see LXX Josh 15:59a (καὶ Καρὲμ); Jer 6:1 ( ;)בית הכרםNeh 3:14 ( ;)בית־הכרם1Q20 11:13–1§4; 3Q15 10:5. Cf. Josephus, Ant. 10.243. 44 Or, some textual witnesses: “by a blemish (renders them disqualified) in every respect.” 45 J. L. Kugel, “Ancient Biblical Interpretation and the Biblical Sage,” in Studies in Ancient Midrash (ed. J. L. Kugel; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2001), 1–26; idem, The God of Old: Inside the Lost World of the Bible (New York: Free Press, 2003). 46 M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon, 1985), 136. 47 Knoppers, “Parallel Torahs,” 507–31.
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teronomy 27 laws governing altar construction have binding authority in their own right and are not viewed as an obsolete relic of a pre-centralization phase of Israelite history. Quite the contrary, the Shechem altar legislation paradoxically provides critical instruction about how the major sacrificial installation at the Jerusalem temple should be built. Josephus shares a number of assumptions about the Mosaic scriptures with other early interpreters. What is striking about Josephus’ methodology is his reworking of pentateuchal sources to comply with the core principle of unity that he claims to find within those sources.48 Outlining the nature of altar construction in the one instance, where it is absent from Josephus’ sources, and omitting the nature of altar construction, where it is present in Josephus’ sources, generates an internal consistency within his presentation, even if that consistency is paradoxically gained at the expense of fidelity to the very Mosaic constitution he promotes.
IV. The One-time Altar between the Two Mountains We have seen that the sacrificial installations in the times of Judas Maccabee and Herod the Great conform to the centralization laws within the literary world of Josephus’ own work, precisely because the Flavian historian has systematically rewritten his sources to make them conform to what he considers to be a normative type (Ant. 4.200–201). Nevertheless, the drive toward simplification and homogenization raises further questions. Having imported select instructions from the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal statutes into the instructions for establishing a central altar, why does the author relate the mandate for a Shechem altar at all? This would seem to be a completely unnecessary literary move on his part. Given both that he absorbs some of the Mt. Ebal/Mt. Gerizim altar features into the central altar and that he absorbs some features of the Covenant Code stone altars into the central altar but otherwise ignores the Covenant Code altar stipulations, why complicate matters? Would not rehearsing the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal directives run the risk of confusing readers about what altar is to be designated as the main altar? That Josephus chose to discuss the mandate for the Shechem altar at all is, therefore, significant. I would argue that the Flavian historian takes up the altar commanded in both the Jewish and Samaritan Pentateuchs, albeit at different locales (Mt. Ebal vs. Mt. Gerizim), because the issue mattered to him. His recasting of Deuteronomy’s statutes clarifies from his perspective what the ceremonies near Shechem did and did not represent.49 The following discussion will begin with some re48
Even if the lawgiver left his writings in a haphazard arrangement (Ant. 4.197). one reconstructs Josephus’ intended audience, he seems to have defined who
49 However
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marks about Josephus’ unique configuration of the Shechem-area ceremonies, before taking up his comments about the sacrificial installation’s use. Near the conclusion of his discussion of the constitution established by the lawgiver (νομοθέτης) Moses (Deut 12:1–26:15; Ant. 4.312), Josephus discusses the directive for an altar to be constructed (τὸν βωμόν τε ἀναστῆσαι) by the people “not far off from the city of the Shechemites” (οὐ πόρρω τῆς Σικίμων πόλεως; Ant. 4.305; cf. Deut 27:2–8), following the successful completion of the conquest and the annihilation of the Canaanites (Ant. 4.305–308). The precise location of the prescribed corporate rituals is vague – “between two mountains” (μεταξὺ δυοῖν ὀροῖν; Ant. 4.305). It may be that Josephus situates the altar between Gerizim and Ebal (Ant. 3.305) to favor neither mount.50 Alternatively, knowing traditional Samaritan claims for Mt. Gerizim, Josephus leaves the exact location somewhat ambiguous to cover both possibilities (cf. MT vs. SP Deut 27:4; MT Josh 8:30–35//LXX Josh 9:2a–f).51 Since he stresses that the sacrifices at this site were never to recur (Ant. 3.308), the prohibition applies to wherever the Israelites constructed their altar. Whatever the case, Josephus is consistent in this matter. His reformulation of the Joshua story locates the ceremony at Shechem, “as Moses had foretold” (Ant. 5.69–70). Josephus lacks any reference to the first temporal condition of implementation found in the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal legislation, והיה ביום אשר תעברו את־הירדן אל־הארץ, “on the day you cross over the Jordan into the land” (Deut 27:2). Nor does Josephus refer to the more general condition, והיה בעברכם את־הירדן, “when you cross over the Jordan” (Deut 27:4). Rather, Josephus assimilates the timing of the Shechem public liturgy to that of the centralization legislation we have previously discussed (Deut 12:10–12). The Shechem ceremonies must await the complete conquest of the land (ἐξελόντας δὲ τὴν Χαναναίων γῆν) and the elimination of aboriginals (καὶ πᾶσαν διαφθείραντας τὴν ἐν αὐτῇ πληθὺν; Ant. 4.305).52 the Judeans were and what they became over the course of their long history in part by contrast to the “proximate other.” On this concept, see J. Z. Smith, “What a Difference a Difference Makes,” in “To See Ourselves as Others See Us” (ed. J. Neusner and E. S. Frerichs; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1985), 3–48. On the debates about Josephus’ declared, implied, and intended audiences, see S. Mason, “Should any Wish to Enquire Further (Ant. 1.25): The Aim and Audience of Josephus’ Judean Antiquities/Life,” in Understanding Josephus: Seven Perspectives (ed. S. Mason; JSPSup 32; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1998), 64–103; Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4, xvii–xxiv; J. M. G. Barclay, Against Apion: Translation and Commentary (Flavius Josephus, Translation and Commentary 10; Leiden: Brill, 2007); Z. Rogers, “Josephus’ Biblical Interpretation,” in A Companion to Biblical Interpretation in Early Judaism (ed. M. Henze; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012), 436–64. 50 Nodet, Lederman, and Bardet, Les antiquités juives, 2.106–07. 51 Nevertheless, in his exposition of Joshua, Josephus specifies that Joshua constructed the altar on Mt. Ebal (Ἥβηλος; Ant. 5.69) 52 By contrast, (MT) Josh 8:30–35 may have represented tactically the earliest point in the narrative the editors of Joshua could place the fulfillment notices (with Deut 27:2–8 in view), R. D. Nelson, Joshua: A Commentary (OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997), 117.
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There is another surprising resemblance between the centralization laws and Josephus’ version of the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal laws. The text speaks of Moses’ command for an altar (βωμός; Ant. 4:305, 308) without providing any indication of what style of sacrificial installation the altar is to be. Unlike the source text, which specifies the use of whole stones upon which no iron (tool) has been brandished (Deut 27:5–6), the Antiquitates Judaicae does not identify any specific altar type. In this respect, the Shechem area altar paradoxically comes to resemble the undefined altar called for in the centralization legislation (Deut 12:26–27).53 Much of the writer’s discussion is given up to the oral and written dimensions of the Shechem area ceremony, even though he begins and ends with the altar (Ant. 4.305, 308). His detailed depiction of the prescribed public liturgies selectively appropriates elements from the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal instructions (Deut 27:2–26), while ignoring others, and summarily alludes to the listing of blessings and curses in the following chapter of Deuteronomy (28:1–68).54 Josephus’ presentation simplifies, balances, and partially merges the two texts.55 For the liturgies “between the two mountains,” Moses dictates a division of the army into six tribes each (Ant. 4.305). Half the Israelite people (accompanied by Levites and priests) are to position themselves on Mt. Gerizim and the other half on Mt. Ebal (accompanied by Levites and priests). Those on Mt. Gerizim are to pronounce the blessings upon those zealous in worshiping God and in following his decrees (Ant. 4.306; cf. Deut 11:29–30; 27:11–13; 28:1). Following the assent and prayers to be offered by those on Mt. Ebal, those on Mt. Gerizim are to offer, in turn, their approval. Remedying the uneven balance between blessing and curse instructions appearing in his source, Josephus portrays the same antiphonal liturgical sequence for the pronouncement of blessings on Mt. Gerizim as that of curses on Mt. Ebal (Ant. 4.307; cf. Deut 27:13, 14–26). For his part, Moses records the blessings and curses so that “their knowledge might The timing of the Shechem ceremonies following the conquest (Ant. 5.68–70) coheres, as we shall see, with the schedule Josephus sets out here (Ant. 4.305–308). 53 The stipulation dictating that the altar should face the rising sun (Ant. 4:305) is Josephus’ own addition, unparalleled in any of the altar laws we have discussed. On the orientation of the tent toward the east (also an addition in Josephus), see Ant. 3.115. Cf. Exod 27:13; Ezek 43:2–4. 54 In so doing, he resolves a literary issue raised by the sequence of pericopes in his source, namely the command for the pronouncement of the blessing on Mt. Gerizim and the curse on Mt. Ebal (Deut 27:11–13), the proclamation of curses on Mt. Ebal (Deut 27:14–26), and the Mosaic enumeration of the blessings (Deut 28:1–14) and the curses of the covenant (Deut 28:15–68). On the ambiguity in Deuteronomy, see N. Lohfink, “Moab oder Sichem – wo wurde Dtn 28 nach der Fabel des Deuteronomiums proklamiert?,” in Studies in Deuteronomy in Honour of C. J. L abuschagne on the Occasion of his 65th Birthday (ed. F. G. Martínez et al.; VTSup 53; Leiden: Brill, 1994), 139–53. 55 Although the public pronouncement and recording of blessings and curses take center stage in his presentation, he details only a few benedictions and maledictions (e.g., Ant. 4.313– 314).
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never be lost through time” (ὡς μηδέποτε ἐκλιπεῖν τὴν μάθησιν αὐτων ὑπὸ τοῦ χρόνου; Ant. 3.307–308) 56 and inscribes them on both sides of the altar.57 That Josephus reduces “all the terms of this torah” (Deut 27:3, 8) to the blessings and the curses is significant. In Deuteronomy instructions about ceremonies at Gerizim and Ebal precede (11:29–30) and conclude (27:2–26) the central law collection (12:1–26:15). Josephus seems to interpret the stela and altar instructions of Deut 27:2–8 through the prism of the commands to pronounce the blessing(s) upon Mt. Gerizim and the curse(s) on Mt. Ebal (Deut 11:29–30; 27:11–13). Yet, in the literary progression of Deuteronomy, the torah – the instruction Yhwh communicates to Moses to impart to Israel – is closely associated with the public ceremonies to occur at these two sites. The stipulations of the torah, which are to govern Israelite life in the land, are to be solemnized in corporate liturgies when the Israelites enter the land. The recording and public inscription of “all the terms of this torah” at Mt. Gerizim (SP)/Mt. Ebal (MT) confirms the link, underscoring the message that the rule of law governs Israelite life in the land.58 The force of the corporate proceedings is, however, more strictly defined in Josephus’ rewrite of pentateuchal law. The blessings and curses highlighted by Josephus spell out the consequences of what will happen to the people if they obey or disobey the divine commands (Ant. 4.312–314), but they do not define the content of the divine-Israelite relationship itself. Recording the sanctions and imprecations ensures that “their knowledge should never vanish over time” (Ant. 4.307), yet such knowledge is not tantamount to knowledge of the torah. Josephus neither mentions the summons to Gerizim and Ebal (Deut 11:29–30) prior to the introduction to the central law collection (Deut 11:31–12:1) nor the important declaration delivered to the people by Moses and the Levitical priests that “today” they “have become the people of Yhwh” and, hence, should observe his commandments (Deut 27:9–10).59 In this respect, there are 56 The notice that Moses recorded the blessings and curses, unparalleled in his source, explains how the blessings and curses were preserved. Feldman provides a good overview of the additions and changes to Josephus’ biblical sources, Judean Antiquities 1–4, 465–68. 57 On the anomaly of Moses (proleptically) inscribing the altar himself, see Begg, “Cisjordanian Altar(s),” 199; Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4, 468. 58 A point underscored by J-.L. Ska, “Josh 8:30–35: Israel Officially Takes Possession of the Land,” in “Gerechtigkeit und Recht zu üben” (Gen 18,19): Studien zur altorientalischen und biblischen Rechtsgeschichte, zur Religionsgeschichte Israels und zur Religionssoziologie – Festschrift für Eckart Otto zum 65. Geburtstag (ed. R. Achenbach and M. A rneth; BZAR 13; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2009), 308–16. 59 Cf. Exod 6:6–7; 19:5–6; Deut 4:20; 26:18–19, D. J. McCarthy, Treaty and Covenant (AnBib 21A; new ed.; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1981), 269–73, 285–86; P. Kalluveettil, Declaration and Covenant: A Comprehensive Review of Covenant Formulae from the Old Testament and the Ancient Near East (AnBib 88; Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1982), 161– 63; E. Nielsen, Deuteronomium (HAT I/6; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1995), 244–47. J. H. Tigay argues that the ceremonies at Mt. Ebal (MT) reaffirm the covenant made on the steppes of
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some parallels between the covenant ceremonies occurring at Mt. Sinai, when the Israelites receive divine instruction outside the land (Exod 19:1–8; 24:1–11), and the ceremonies to occur at Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal, when the Israelites commit themselves to observing divine instruction in the land. 60 Omitting these details and radically condensing “all the terms of this torah” to the torah’s concluding blessings and curses, Josephus diminishes the significance of the Shechem rituals. In Deuteronomy the object of public inscription is an interpretive issue. The literary contextualization of the altar instructions (Deut 27:5–7) within the commands about setting up the large stones (after the Israelites cross the Jordan; Deut 27:2–4, 8), leaves the locus of material inscription ambiguous. Are the terms of the torah to be written on the assembled and plastered large stones (Deut 27:2–4) or upon the whole stones of the altar (Deut 27:5–8)? In the interpretation advanced by Josephus, the large stones to be set up by the Israelites (Deut 27:2–4) go unmentioned. Whitewashing the stones is also not part of Moses’ directives, even though Josephus’ source calls for such an action (Deut 27:2). Rather, the directive to plaster the stones has been transferred, as we have seen, to the central altar – to render its appearance aesthetically beautiful (Ant. 4.200). In Josephus’ account, the act of building the altar (Deut 27:5–6) also goes unmentioned. The altar’s existence is simply presupposed, when Moses inscribes it on both sides (Ant. 4.307). 61 In the writer’s Vorlage, the instructions to build an altar, to present burnt offerings and offerings of well-being, to consume them there ()ואכלת שם, and to rejoice before Yhwh ( ; ושמחת לפני יהוהDeut 27:4–7) celebrate God’s gifts to his people in the land God gave to his people. The erection of an altar, the offering of sacrifices, and the summons to rejoice “before Yhwh” indicate a cultic setting. 62 The version of Josephus includes an altar and corporate sacrifices, but lacks any mention of public feasting and rejoicing before God.63 His proceedMoab, which reaffirms, in turn, the covenant made at Mt. Sinai, Deuteronomy (JPS Torah Commentary; Philadelphia: JPS, 1996), 251, 486–89. Cf. Deut 28:69. 60 Kalluveettil, Declaration and Covenant, 61–62. 61 Insofar as he speaks of altar inscription, Josephus follows the interpretive lead of one of his biblical sources (MT Josh 8:30–35; LXX 9:2a–f), which has Joshua inscribe a copy of the torah (thus the MT) or of Deuteronomy (thus, the LXX) on the altar stones (MT Josh 8:32; LXX Josh 9:2c). Perhaps the puzzling reference to “both sides” plays on the polarity inherent in the contrast between benedictions and maledictions. Thus, the blessings were to be inscribed on one side of the altar and the curses on the opposite side. 62 McCarthy, Treaty and Covenant, 194–99; E. Lipiński, “ עַםʿam,” TDOT 11 (2001): 163– 77 (171–73); H. Simian-Yofre, “ ָפנִיםpānîm,” TDOT 11 (2001): 589–615 (609–11); HALOT 942a–b. This is also true of dedicatory usage in the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions. Those presenting offerings do so “before God in this place” ( )קדם אלהא באתרא דנהor simply “before God” or “before the Lord.” See, e.g., MGI 147–55; A. K. de Hemmer Gudme, Before the God in this Place for Good Remembrance: A Comparative Analysis of the Aramaic Votive Inscriptions from Mount Gerizim (BZAW 441; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2013), 70–77, 89–90. 63 On the importance of this motif in Deuteronomy, see G. Braulik, “Die Freude des Fes-
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ings take on, therefore, a more austere cast than those called for in Deuteronomy. Omitting the references to a communal meal and to public rejoicing also reduces the number of parallels between the centralization legislation and the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal legislation. 64 Josephus repeatedly pledges neither to add anything to his sources nor to omit anything therefrom (Ant. 1.17; 10.218; C. Ap. 1.42; 2.291), but his violations of these principles usually serve a larger purpose. 65 As for the nature of the public sacrifices to be presented on the altar situated between the two mountains, Moses mandates that the people stand while they offer sacrifices and whole burnt offerings (Ant. 4.308; cf. Ant. 5.69–70). 66 Nevertheless, the mandate is temporally conditioned. The public presentation of sacrifices and burnt offerings (θῦσαί τε καὶ ὁλοκαυτῶσαι) is to be an exceptional event, never to be practiced again “for that would not be lawful” (οὐ γὰρ εἶναι νόμιμον; Ant. 4.308). Josephus thus goes beyond his pentateuchal source to stress the Shechem sacrifices as a unique occurrence. Unlike the bronze altar at the “holy tent,” which is to be employed for daily rituals and sacrifices, while the people are on the move (Ant. 3.149–150), the Shechem altar is to serve as a locus of sacrifice for a single occasion in the life of Israel. The concluding comment that “Moses decreed these things (ταῦτ᾽ οὖν Μωυσῆς διέταξε) and the nation of the Hebrews (τὸ Ἑβραίων ἔθνος) continues to act in accordance with them” (Ant. 4.308) affirms a general pattern of corporate orthopraxy throughout the ages. 67 But it likely also conveys a not-too subtle criticism of Samaritan practice, because from Josephus’ perspective the Samaritans tes: Das Kultverständnis des Deuteronomium – die älteste biblische Festtheorie,” in Studien zur Theologie des Deuteronomiums (SBAB 2; Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1988), 161– 218. More recently, P. A ltmann, Festive Meals in Ancient Israel: Deuteronomy’s Identity Politics in their Ancient Near Eastern Context (BZAW 424; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2011). 64 On the parallels, see A. Rofé, “The Strata of the Law about the Centralization of Worship in Deuteronomy and the History of the Deuteronomic Movement,” in Congress Volume Uppsala 1971 (VTSup 22; Leiden: Brill, 1972), 221–26 [repr. A. Rofé, Deuteronomy: Issues and Interpretation (London: T & T Clark, 2002), 97–101]; S. Schorch, “The Samaritan Version of Deuteronomy and the Origin of Deuteronomy,” in Samaria, Samarians, Samaritans: Studies on Bible, History and Linguistics (ed. J. Zsengellér; SJ 66; StSam 6; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2011), 23–37, although I do not agree with all of their conclusions. 65 Josephus’ deployment of the so-called canon formula in defense of his own compositional technique stresses his fidelity to his sources. For a range of interpretations, see Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4, 7–8. Yet, as in the Hebrew Bible/Old Testament (Deut 4:2; 12:32; Qoh 3:14; 12:12–13; Sir 42:21) and in the New Testament (Rev 22:18–19), the appeal to the principle of conservatism may camouflage the writer’s own literary innovations; see B. M. Levinson, Legal Revision and Religious Renewal in Ancient Israel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 12–56. 66 There is no explicit mention of offerings of well-being, as in Josephus’ source (Deut 27:5–7). 67 How Judeans acted collaboratively, honorably, and courageously on many occasions throughout their long history is a major theme of Josephus’ didactic history, Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4, xxii–iv, xxxii–xxxiv, 468.
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transgressed the command that the Israelites never sacrifice there again (Ant. 4.308). 68 There would be no need for the Flavian historian to introduce such a comment into his narrative, unless Jewish-Samaritan issues remained current in his own time. The implication seems clear. Given that the public observances at Shechem publicly solemnize the Torah’s blessings and curses, sacrificing again at the site would violate the very pledges undertaken at that site. Those who did so would risk activating divinely-imposed curses upon themselves.69 The distinctive attributes of the Antiquitates Judaicae account, over against its sources, may be charted as follows. Action
Ant.
Source
Precondition: Complete Conquest
4.305
Deut 12:10–12
Summons to Construct Altar
4.305
Deut 27:4–5
Order to Whitewash stones
—
Deut 27:2, 4
Orientation of Altar toward the Rising Sun 4.305
—
Location not far from the City of the Shechemites
4.305
Cf. MT Deut 27:4 (Mt Ebal); SP Deut 27:4 (Mt. Gerizim)
Twofold Division of Tribes with Priests and Levites
4.305–307
Cf. Deut 27:11–13
Pronouncement of Blessings on Mt. Gerizim and Corporate Approval
4.306
Cf. Deut 27:11–12; 28:1–14
Pronouncement of Curses on Mt. Ebal and Corporate Approval
4.307
Cf. Deut 27:13, 14–26; 28:15–68
Moses’ Recording of Blessings and Curses for Posterity
4.307
—
Inscription on Both Sides of Altar
4.308
Cf. Deut 27:2–3, 8
Sacrifices and Burnt Offerings
4.308
Deut 27:6–7
Summons to Feast and Rejoice before Yhwh —
Deut 27:7
Becoming the People of Yhwh
—
Deut 29:9–10
Proscription of Further Sacrifice at Site
4.308
—
Continuing Hebraic Adherence to Mosaic Ordinances
4.308
—
68
So also Begg, “Cisjordanian Altar(s),” 211; Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4, 468. Perhaps to drive home the point, Josephus’ rewriting of his Joshua source further redu ces the inscription to the covenant curses. In this, he departs both from his biblical source and from his own earlier specification in his selective paraphrase of Deuteronomy 27 (Ant. 4.307), C. T. Begg and P. Spilsbury, Flavius Josephus, Judean Antiquities 8–10 (Flavius Josephus, Translation and Commentary 5; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 18. 69
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Two questions remain. First, why does Josephus revise the timing of building the Shechem altar to a point at which the Israelites are safely established in the land and have defeated their enemies (Ant. 4.305), when his source text clearly mandates that they do so upon entering the land (Deut 27:4) or, more specifically, on the day they cross over into the land (Deut 27:2)? We have seen that adjusting the schedule of implementing centralized worship allows the Flavian historian to accommodate the building of the Jerusalem temple centuries after the Israelites emerged in the land, but why does he also adjust the schedule of building the Shechem altar? Second, why does he not address the issue of altar composition in his treatment of the instructions for the Shechem area ceremonies (Ant. 4.305–308), even though his source does do so (Deut 27:5–7)? Again, it is clear that he knows the Mt. Ebal/Mt. Gerizim legislation (Deut 27:2–8), because he draws upon it to reframe the centralization legislation so that it includes characteristic features of the Mt. Ebal/Mt. Gerizim altar construction. He selectively employs both the Covenant Code altar laws and the Mt. Ebal/Mt. Gerizim laws to define the nature of the central altar. To address the first question, it could be argued that the Flavian historian’s adjustment of timing creates a more coherent account than either of the two versions, which appear in MT and LXX Joshua. While this view makes some sense, I am inclined to suggest that the modified timing arranged for building the Shechem altar also achieves a related aim. It accommodates the inclusion of the construction of another altar in his narrative, one neither mentioned in his legal sources nor in his own summary of biblical law – the altar Joshua constructs in the vicinity of Gilgal, when Israel first enters the land (Ant. 5.20–21).70 If Josephus had not modified, in fact, the schedule of constructing the Shechem area altar from that of his Vorlage (Deut 27:2, 4), it would have conflicted with his own depiction of Israel’s emergence in the land. As to the second question, it may be conceded that Josephus could have noted that the Shechem altar featured unworked stone composition, because the Mosaic constitution decreed such. He could have framed the unwrought stone altar type as unique to the nation of the Hebrews, rather than insisting that a particular altar at a particular site had to be constructed according to these specifications. In the context of classical antiquity, such an altar made of natural, unworked stones, carefully laid next to each other, would be quite uncommon.71 Most Greek and Roman monumental altars associated with sanctuaries were constructed of finely dressed stones and occasionally decorated with elaborate-
70 The altar founded in the vicinity of Gilgal (50 stadia from Jericho), temporary in nature, is constructed once the Israelites enter the land. Hence, the Gilgal altar, not the Shechem altar, lays claim to Yhwh’s ownership of the land. This matter will be discussed in the following chapter. 71 So also Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4, 399.
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ly cut reliefs.72 In numerous cases, flights of steps led up to the sacrificial installation. The Greek altars, mostly rectangular in nature, are amply attested in the archaeological record, dating to the sixth century BCE onward. Roman sacrificial altars are quite varied, appearing in both sacred temple precincts and in outdoor spaces unrelated to them.73 The altars themselves range from temporary structures, consisting of earth or stones to impressive monumental structures of various shapes and sizes, consisting of carefully cut and finished stone masonry. The unusual mode of construction articulated in biblical law could be regarded, then, as one of several critical features that set the Hebrew people apart from all others. Within the world imagined by the text, such an altar type could have been used before the period of centralization in Jerusalem, if pentateuchal statutes called for such a construction. Yet, for Josephus, allowing such a prospect was probably deemed unpalatable to making his case for the unique identity of the Jerusalem temple and its main altar. His own writings cite a number of parallels, albeit begrudgingly, between Samarians and Judeans and their sanctuaries at Mt. Zion and Mt. Gerizim. Josephus acknowledges that the Samaritan temple, which he mistakenly thought was constructed in the time of Alexander the Great, resembled the Jerusalem temple in many respects (Ant. 11.321–324; 13.256).74 The rise of the Mt. Gerizim temple, so Josephus contends, was aided and abetted by the appointment of a Judean high priest in Samaria from the elite high priestly family of Jerusalem and by many Judean priestly defections to Mt. Gerizim (Ant. 11.297–347). Like the Jerusalem temple, the Mt. Gerizim temple was led by an Aaronide priesthood.75 Indeed, many priests and “Israelites” involved in intermarriage deserted Judah and settled in Samaria (Ant. 11.312). Josephus even claims that renegade Judeans populated Shechem, the Samarians’ “mother city” of that time (4th cen72 M. Ç. Şahin, Die Entwicklung der greichischen Monumentalaltäre (Bonn: R. Habelt, 1972); R. A. Tomlinson, Greek Sanctuaries (London: Elek, 1976); W. Hermann, Römische Götteraltäre (Kallmünz: M. Lassleben, 1961). 73 The topic of non-funerary Roman stone altars is immense and cannot be dealt with adequately here. See H. C. Bowerman, Roman Sacrificial Altars: An Archaeological Study of Monuments in Rome (Lancaster, PA: New Era, 1913); O. Dräger, Religionem significare: Studien zu reich verzierten römischen Altären und Basen aus Marmor (Mainz: P. von Zabern, 1994); W. Van Andringa, “The Archaeology of Ancient Sanctuaries,” in A Companion to the Archaeology of Religion in the Ancient World (ed. R. Raja and J. Rupke; Chichester: Wiley Blackwell, 2015), 29–40; H. von Hesburg, “Temples and Temple Interiors,” in Companion to the Archaeology of Religion, 320–32. 74 Y. Magen, “The Dating of the First Phase of the Samaritan Temple at Mount Gerizim in Light of the Archaeological Finds,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. Knoppers, and R. Albertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns), 157–211; idem, Mount Gerizim Excavations, 3: Temple City (JSP 8; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2008). Kartveit contends that Josephus deliberately suppressed the earlier founding of the temple to shorten the time in which the temple existed, Origin, 95. 75 Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 190–92.
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tury BCE; Ant. 11.340).76 The new shrine soon became popular with Judeans, who were disaffected with or disciplined by the Jerusalem temple authorities (Ant. 11.346–347). Those who migrated to the Mt. Gerizim sanctuary and patronized it instead of the Jerusalem sanctuary must have seen enough parallels between the two institutions to make such a switch acceptable to them.77 In another context, Josephus discusses a dispute among Judean and Samarian expatriates residing in Egypt during the 3rd century BCE about whether their offerings should be sent to the Jerusalem temple or to the Mt. Gerizim temple (Josephus, Ant. 12.7–10; 13.74–79). The very existence of such a debate presupposes that members of the two groups resided together in the same community.78 Even though the Samaritan temple was eventually destroyed by John Hyrcanus (Josephus, B.J. 1.63; Ant. 13.254–256, 275–79), Josephus acknowledges that the site remained central to Samaritan identity in his own time (Josephus, B.J. 3.307–313) and that Mt. Gerizim was “regarded by them as the most holy of mountains” (Ant. 18.85). Recognizing the similarities that Josephus acknowledged between Jews and Samaritans and the temples they both cherished, one can better appreciate the dilemma texts privileging Shechem posed for Josephus in the Pentateuch that Jews and Samaritans both embraced as their foundational scriptures. Josephus likely knew that Samaritans cited texts in Deuteronomy favoring Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal as warrant for the establishment of a Yahwistic temple at Mt. Gerizim. If Judea’s northern neighbor had its own traditions of a central sanctuary, belief in one God, claims to the heritage of ancient Israel, an ancestral constitution virtually identical to that of the Judeans, and a peculiar unhewn stone altar, would the “stock of the Hebrews” be truly unique? Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal are featured prominently in two texts introducing and concluding Deuteronomy’s central law collection, but Jerusalem is nowhere explicitly mentioned. More than that, the Shechem area altar, claimed by Samaritans as normative for all who claim affinity with historic Israel is explicitly highlighted as the one altar named in the post-centralization phase (Deut 13:1ff.) of the book. Within the Enneateuch, accepted by Judeans but not by Samaritans, the Mt. Ebal altar of unfinished stones antedates the Jerusalem altar by centuries. If such a unhewn stone altar type was thought to have been first built at Mt. Ebal/Mt. Gerizim (even as a temporary structure) and centuries later at Jerusalem, the Jerusalem altar would hardly be unparalleled. Such a scenario 76 On the terminology and its significance, see Pummer, Samaritans in Flavius Josephus, 124–25. 77 If one follows Josephus’ account of the Mt. Gerizim temple’s founding, Samaria became paradoxically more Judean, rather than less so, as a result of the establishment of this new sanctuary. See further the chapter, “The Samaritan Schism or the Judaization of Samaria? Reassessing Josephus’ Account of the Mt. Gerizim Temple,” elsewhere in this volume. 78 S. S chwartz, “The Judaism of Samaria and Galilee,” HTR 82 (1989): 377–91; Pummer, Samaritans in Flavius Josephus, 179–96.
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would play havoc with the claim that the erection of an altar made of uncut stones had to await the founding of a holy city and the construction of a temple within it (Ant. 4.200–201).79 Hence, he neither specifies the mode of the Shechem altar composition, when he provides his summary of the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal legislation (Ant. 4.305–308) nor when he discusses the fulfillment of Moses’ instructions in the erection of Joshua’s altar in the Shechem area (Ant. 5.69–70), even though his biblical sources do so (Deut 27:4–8; MT Josh 8:31; LXX 9:2b).
Conclusions Josephus’ reworking of ancient Israel’s altar laws is selective, careful, and systematic. The Flavian historian’s declarations about the individuating features of the main temple altar reflect the assumptions of his times, but his consistent rewriting of pentateuchal statutes in favor of such a Jerusalemite position bears every indication of deliberately excluding alternative views. Josephus distances the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal altar from the Jerusalem altar to uphold his larger claim that the latter cultic institution is both the central altar called for in Deuteronomy and unique. The Shechem altar becomes a pro tempore assembly that has to be distinguished from the central altar prescribed in the Mosaic constitution. Josephus’ strategy of maximum differentiation dissociates the one from the other. There would not have been, however, any need to develop such involved literary maneuvers, if there were neither profound issues in Josephus’ sources nor any rivalry between Jews and Samaritans, who both claimed to continue the legacy of classical Israel. To summarize: Josephus discloses his awareness of Samaritan claims to the past not despite, but because of his rhetorical maneuvers to exclude these claims in his treatment of Israel’s past. The longer he avoids overtly discussing the different Jewish and Samaritan interpretations of pentateuchal texts, the more his exposition of critical pentateuchal texts shows a deliberate strategy of exclusion, rather than ignorance, indifference, or confusion on his part.
79 That the Samaritans sometimes professed to belong to the same ethnic group as the Judeans, a fact Josephus begrudgingly acknowledges (e.g., Ant. 11.323), adds a further complication. More often than not, Josephus speaks of Samarians as a distinct ethnos from that of the Judeans (e.g., Ant. 10.184; 17.20; 18.85). On yet other occasions, Josephus avers that Samarians disavow kinship to Judeans, when times are bad (Ant. 9.291; 11.340–345; 12.257, 261). See further, Schwartz, “Judaism of Samaria,” 381–88; Kartveit, Origin, 80–85: Pummer, Samaritans in Flavius Josephus, 270–85.
Chapter Nine
Altared History: Israel’s Four Altars in Josephus’ Reworking of the Joshua Story In his studies on the Dead Sea Scrolls fragmentary text of 4QJoshuaa, Ulrich draws attention to the arrangement of public ceremonies as Israel enters the land in 4QJoshuaa, which differs from that found in MT and LXX Joshua.1 The witness of 4QJoshuaa includes elements of the pan-Israelite rituals in the Shechem area, as portrayed in MT Joshua (8:30–35) and LXX Joshua (9:2a–f), but situates them much earlier in the Joshua story, after Israel crosses the Jordan (at the end of Joshua 4).2 In other words, this Dead Sea Scrolls witness seems to associate the fulfilment of certain commands given in Deut 11:29–30 and 27:2–3 somewhere close to the Jordan River (Gilgal?), rather than later in 1 E. C. U lrich, “4QJoshua a and Joshua’s First Altar in the Promised Land,” in New Qumran Texts and Studies (ed. G. J. Brooke; STDJ 15; Leiden: Brill, 1994), 89–104; idem, “4QJoshua (Pls. XXXII–XXXIV),” in Qumran Cave 4. Vol. 9, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Kings (ed. E. C. Ulrich, F. M. Cross, et al.; DJD 14; Oxford: Clarendon, 1995), 143–52; idem, “The Old Latin, Mount Gerizim, and 4Q Josha,” in Textual Criticism and the Dead Sea Scrolls – Studies in Honour of Julio Trebolle Barrera: Florilegium Complutense (ed. A. Piquer Otero and P. A. Torijano Morales; JSJSup 157; Leiden: Brill, 2012), 361–75; idem, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Developmental Composition of the Bible (VTSup 169; Leiden: Brill, 2015), 47–65. For further discussion, see A. Rofé, “The Editing of the Book of Joshua in the Light of 4QJosha,” in New Qumran Texts and Studies: Proceedings of the First Meeting of the International Organization for Qumran Studies, Paris 1992 (ed. G. J. Brooke; STDJ 15; Leiden: Brill, 1994), 73–80; A. G. Auld, “Reading Joshua after Kings,” in Joshua Retold: Synoptic Perspectives (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1998), 102–12, esp. 109–11; E. Noort, “4QJoshuaa and the History of Tradition in the Book of Joshua,” JNSL 24/2 (1998): 127–44; idem, Das Buch Josua: Forschungsgeschichte und Problemfelder (EdF 292; Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1998), 56–59; K. De Troyer, “Building the Altar and Reading the Law: The Journeys of Joshua 8:30–35,” in Reading the Present in the Qumran Library: The Perception of the Contemporary by Means of Scriptural Interpretation (ed. K. de Troyer and A. Lange; SBLSymS 30; Atlanta: SBL Press, 2005), 141–62. 2 Dating to the late second century BCE or the first half of the first century BCE, the text of 4QJoshuaa (column I, fragments 1–2), preserves material corresponding to MT Josh 8:34– 35 (LXX 9:2e–f) that resonates with the instructions given about ceremonies to be conducted at Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal in Deut 11:29–30 and 27:2–3. The citation of MT Josh 8:34–35 is followed by a line and a half paralleled in neither the MT nor the LXX (Josh x:x) and the mass circumcision tale of MT/LXX Josh 5:2–7. A convenient transcription with textual variants appears in E. C. Ulrich, The Biblical Qumran Scrolls: Transcriptions and Textual Variants (VTSup 134; Leiden: Brill, 2010), 249. The text will be discussed in more detail in the chapter on the Samaritan tenth commandment, elsewhere in this volume.
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the central hill country.3 In Ulrich’s reconstruction of fragmentary 4QJoshuaa the rites include an altar (MT Josh 8:30–31; LXX 9:2a–b), but this part of the theory is contested.4 Whether 4QJoshuaa represents a different textual recension vis-à-vis that of the MT and that of the LXX or represents a later reuse of existing material to address exegetical concerns is not the present concern of this essay.5 For our purposes, it is sufficient to point out that changes were being made to the text of Joshua even at late stages in the development of this book (last centuries BCE), as the many differences in content and in sequence among the textual witnesses to this book testify. 6 Because of the fluidity characterizing the growth of Joshua, the boundaries between the textual criticism and literary criticism of this book are porous.7 In presenting an alternative sequence of public rites to that of MT and LXX Joshua, the text of 4QJoshuaa does not stand alone. As possible parallels to (or reflexes of) the Dead Sea Scrolls textual witness, Ulrich points to the rather elaborate two (or more) altar sequence in Josephus’ Antiquitates Judaicae and the variant rendition of events in Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum. 8 Each of these writings includes the construction and use of a sacrificial altar at Gilgal. Since these two important and independent works differ on several major points, each will be considered separately. In what follows, the main focus of my study will be on Josephus’ rewrite of Joshua’s construction of an 3 In the view of some scholars, 4QJoshua a is, however, not an early (much less the earliest) witness to the text of Joshua, but rather a exegetical reworking for nomistic ends, namely to stress Joshua’s compliance with the torah of Moses as soon as Israel crosses the Jordan River. See M. N. van den Meer, Formation and Reformulation: The Redaction of the Book of Joshua in the Light of the Oldest Textual Witnesses (VTSup 102; Leiden: Brill, 2004), 511–14. Cf. Rofé, “Editing of the Book of Joshua,” 109–11; Noort, “4QJoshuaa,” 132–34; De Troyer, “Building the Altar,” 141–62. 4 Van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, 498–519; E. Tov, “Literary Development of the Book of Joshua as Reflected in the Masoretic Text, the LXX, and 4QJosha,” in his Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible, Qumran, Septuagint: Collected Essays, Volume 3 (VTSup 167; Leiden: Brill, 2015), 132–53. 5 T. B. Dozeman, “The Book of Joshua in Recent Research,” CBR 15 (2017): 270–88. 6 E. Tov, Textual Criticism (3rd rev. ed.; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012), 294–99. 7 E. Tov, “Some Sequence Differences Between the Masoretic Text and the Septuagint and Their Ramifications for Literary Criticism,” in The Greek and Hebrew Bible: Collected Essays on the Septuagint (VTSup 72; Leiden: Brill, 1999), 411–18; A. G. Auld, Joshua: Jesus, son of Nauē, in Codex Vaticana (Septuagint Commentary Series; Leiden: Brill, 2005); idem, “Re-telling the Disputed ‘Altar’ in Joshua 22,” in The Book of Joshua (ed. E. Noort; BETL 250; Leuven: Peeters, 2012), 281–94; Ulrich, Developmental Composition of the Bible, 15–29; J. C. Trebolle Barrera, “Textual and Literary Criticism on Josh 3–4 (MT-LXX),” in A Pillar of Cloud to Guide: Text-critical, Redactional, and Linguistic Perspectives on the Old Testament in Honour of Marc Vervenne (ed. H. Ausloos and B. Lemmelijn; BETL 269; Leuven: Peeters, 2014), 471–91. 8 As we shall see (next chapter), Pseudo-Philo’s fascinating rewrite of ancient Israelite lore gives even more prominence to the Gilgal cult than Josephus’ work does (LAB 21.7–9).
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altar on Mt. Ebal (MT Josh 8:30–35; LXX 9:2a–f), but the Mt. Ebal altar is only one in a sequence of four altars that Josephus posits in the land, located at Gilgal, Shiloh, Mt. Ebal, and in the Transjordan. How Josephus construes the Mt. Ebal altar and the Shechem area more broadly and what this may say about Josephus’ stance toward the Samaritans may be best understood in the context of what he declares about the history of early Israel’s cult. Josephus does not deny the pan-Israelite sacrificial rites in the Shechem area; nevertheless, he minimizes their significance in conformity with his selective reworking of pentateuchal altar laws.9 The same holds true more generally, as we shall see, of Josephus’ handling of the Shechem area in the conclusion of the Joshua story.10 Josephus downplays the significance of the pan-Israelite convocation held at the site and ignores its sanctuary. In Josephus’ typology, only one of the four cultic sites – the tent of meeting at Shiloh – has long-term cultic significance in the communal life of Israel. My assumption in analyzing this writing is that the places the Israelites visited, the order in which they proceeded, the challenges they encountered, and the rites they established were significant for Josephus, just as they were for many other early interpreters. Like other peoples in the ancient Mediterranean world, Jews and Samaritans took a profound interest in antiquity. Stories of origins were considered to be of relevance not only in their own right, but also as furnishing important clues about the character of a given people.11 The foundations established by the ancestors of old (the places they visited, the towns they built, the institutions they founded, the cultic sites they honored) created precedents 9 On Josephus’ involved reworking of Israel’s altar laws, see the previous chapter in this volume. 10 In the literary work, Shechem occupies an important place in the so-called Deuteronomistic (or post-Deuteronomistic) portions of the work (MT Josh 8:30–35 [LXX Josh 9:1–2af]; 24:1–27). Shechem occasionally appears in the latter half of the writing (Josh 17:7; 20:7; 21:21), but Shiloh occupies a critical place in the so-called Priestly or post-Priestly sections of the work (Josh 18:1, 8–10; 19:51). There is also evidence of Priestly-style editing in Joshua 2–5, 7. See J. J. K rause, Exodus und Eisodus: Komposition und Theologie von Josua 1–5 (VTSup 161; Leiden: Brill, 2014). 11 Josephus’ own substantial introduction to Abram (cf. Gen 11:18–21; 12:1) and his discourse about the genealogy, identity, and unique character of Abram as the first monotheist (Ant. 1.148–157) is a case in point. See further, J. L. Kugel, Traditions of the Bible: A Guide to the Bible as It was at the Start of the Common Era (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998), 243–74; L. H. Feldman, Flavius Josephus, Judean Antiquities 1–4 (Flavius Josephus, Translation and Commentary 3; Leiden: Brill, 2000), 56–59. Given the attention ancients paid to the precedent of antiquity, the argument that the places where Abram and the other ancestors worshiped would be far too subtle for later authors, such as Josephus, and their audiences to appreciate (R. J. Coggins, “The Samaritans in Josephus,” in Josephus, Judaism, and Christianity [ed. L. H. Feldman and G. Hata; Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1987], 270) fails to convince. Such a large body of literature, rewriting and reinterpreting the stories in the Pentateuch, Joshua, and Judges, would not have been created in the history of early Judaism, if the details within these stories, however puzzling, repetitive, or obscure, did not matter.
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for later generations to appreciate.12 Since both Jews and Samaritans identified with the name Israel and both groups claimed the heritage of early Israel as pivotal to their own self-identities, the manner in which early interpreters, such as Josephus, retell the stories about Israel’s establishment in the land bears careful scrutiny.
I. The First Altar in the Land: Gilgal Josephus portrays a cultic ceremony occurring immediately after the Israelites cross the Jordan River at a site located ten stadia past Jericho (δέκα σταδίων τῆς Ἱεριχοῦντος; Ant. 5.20).13 The festivities involve the establishment of twelve stones donated by the twelve tribal leaders (cf. Josh 4:3, 5–8, 20–24), Joshua’s construction of an altar, his offering sacrifices upon it to God (ἔθυεν ἐπ᾽ αὐτοῦ τῷ θεῷ), and the communal celebration of Passover (Ant. 5.20–21; cf. Josh 5:2– 9).14 The appearance of an altar, at this stage of the story, is unparalleled in both MT and LXX Joshua. To complicate matters, there is no summons to build such a sacrificial installation upon entering the land in Josephus’ recycled version (Ant. 3.305–308) of the Mt. Ebal/Mt. Gerizim legislation (Deut 27:2–8).15 The altar is also unattested in Samaritan tradition.16 The altar constructed by Joshua, depicted as “a future token of the stoppage of the stream” (τεκμήριον γενησόμενον τῆς ἀνακοπῆς τοῦ ῥεύματος), consists of stones the Israelite tribal representatives collect from the riverbed (Ant. 5.20).17 12 See G. N. K noppers, I Chronicles 1–9 (AB 12; New York: Doubleday, 2004), 245–65, with further references. 13 Presumably, the site is Gilgal (Γάλγαλα; Ant. 5.34), the site of the camp (τὸ στρατόπεδον; Ant. 5.20, 23), but Josephus does not name the place in this context. In the view of C. T. Begg, the “parenthetical notice of Israel’s campsite represents Josephus’ ‘delayed’ use of Josh 4:19; 5:8–9,” Flavius Josephus, Judean Antiquities Books 5–7 (Flavius Josephus, Translation and Commentary 4; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 10. 14 The mass circumcision (Josh 5:2–8) goes unmentioned, C. T. Begg, “The Crossing of the Jordan according to Josephus,” Acta Theologica 26 (2006): 1–16 (11); idem, Judean Antiquities Books 5–7, 7. 15 One can argue that shifting the timing of erecting the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal altar in the rewrite of biblical law to that of the centralization legislation (see the previous chapter) accommodates the addition of the Gilgal altar story. 16 The altar appears in neither of the two major (medieval based) Samaritan chronicles. See T. W. J. Juynboll, Chronicon Samaritanum: Arabice conscriptum, cui titulus est Liber Josuae (Leiden: Luchtmans, 1848); E. Vilmar, Abulfathi Annales Samaritani: quos Arabice edidit cum prolegomenis (Gotha: Perthes, 1865); P. L. Stenhouse, The Kitāb al–Tarīkh of Abū ʾl Fath: A ˙ New Edition with Notes (3 vols.; Sydney: Mandelbaum, 1980). The former work was transla ted by O. T. Crane as The Samaritan Chronicle or the Book of Joshua the Son of Nun (New York: Alden, 1890), while the latter was translated by P. L. Stenhouse as The Kitāb al–tarīkh of Abū ʾl Fath (Sydney: Mandelbaum, 1985). ˙ 17 In the tradition of Josh 4:9, Joshua sets up ( )הקיםstones in the middle of the Jordan River, at the place at which the priests stood, who were bearing the ark of the covenant. There, they
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Whereas MT and LXX Joshua never mention sacrifices at Gilgal, Josephus turns Gilgal into the first locale of corporate Israelite sacrifices in the land (Ant. 5.16–20). By comparison, in Joshua the first sacrifices in the land occur at Mt. Ebal, following the siege of Jericho and the seizure of Ai in the central hill country (MT Josh 8:30–35).18 Mt. Ebal and Mt. Gerizim are the context for a pan-Israelite assembly, the site of Israel’s first sacrifices in the land, and the public inscription and recitation of the torah: “There was not a word of all that Moses had commanded that Joshua did not recite to the entire assembly of Israel, including the women and children, and the sojourners who resided among them” (MT Josh 8:35). The sequence of relevant events in (MT) Joshua may be summarized as follows.19 Action
Joshua
Twelve Stones at Gilgal, Mass Circumcision, and Passover
4:19–5:10
Jericho Siege, Campaign against Ai, and Achan’s Sin
6:1–8:29
Mt. Ebal and Mt. Gerizim Ceremonies
8:30–35
Hostility of Cisjordanian Kings and Gibeonite Deception
9:1–27
Southern/Northern Campaigns and Conquest Summary
10:1–11:23
List of Defeated Kings
12:1–24
Divine Oracle to Joshua: The Land that Remains
13:1–7
Transjordan, Judah, and Joseph Allotments
13:8–17:18
Tabernacle Established at Shiloh
18:1
Allotments for Seven Remaining Tribes
18:2–19:51
remain, “up to this day” (Josh 4:9). In another tradition embedded within Joshua, Joshua sets up ( )הקיםthe stones as a memorial at Gilgal in the Cisjordan (Josh 4:20–24). In neither case, are the stones employed to make an altar. That the tales in Joshua 3–4 are clearly composite and repetitive in nature complicates their understanding. See recently, R. D. Nelson, Joshua (OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1997), 53–71; Noort, Josua, 147–64; H. N. Rösel, Joshua (HCOT; Leuven: Peeters, 2011), 54–77; van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, 115–53; T. C. Römer, The So-Called Deuteronomistic History: A Sociological, Historical and Literary Introduction (London: T & T Clark, 2005), 133–35; J. J. K rause, Exodus und Eisodus: Komposition und Theologie von Josua 1–5 (VTSup 161; Leiden: Brill, 2014), 197–273; T. B. Dozeman, Joshua 1–12 (AB 6B; New Haven: Yale University Press, 2015), 271–95. 18 Tactically, (MT) Josh 8:30–35 may have represented the earliest point in the narrative the editors of Joshua could place the fulfillment notices (with Deut 27:2–8 in view), Nelson, Joshua, 117. In building an altar at Mt. Ebal, the Israelites approximate the pattern set by the patriarchs Abraham (Gen 12:6–8) and Jacob (Gen 33:18–20), who build altars at Shechem following their entrance or return (so Jacob) to the land. 19 The sequence is similar in LXX Joshua, except that the Mt. Ebal covenant ceremonies occur after the notice of the hostile reaction of the Cisjordanian kings (9:1–2).
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To be sure, the LXX provides a variant textual location for the sacrifices, blessings, and curses at Mt. Ebal (LXX Josh 9:2a–f), situating the pan-Israelite ceremonies after a coalition of Cisjordanian kings declare war against Israel (Josh 9:1–2).20 The episode (MT 8:30–35; LXX Josh 9:2a–f) seems, therefore, to have been incorporated into Joshua at a late stage in the work’s compositional history.21 In any event, the honor of hosting the first altar in the land goes to the area of Shechem in MT and LXX Joshua, but in Josephus’ retelling, Gilgal usurps Shechem’s historical and theological priority. It is tempting to attribute Josephus’ claim of an altar at Gilgal to the influence of the stele and altar commands appearing in Deut 27:2–8, which begin with a prospective clause, conditioning the timing of implementation, והיה ביום אשר תעברו את־הירדן אל־הארץ, “on the day you cross the Jordan into the land” (Deut 27:2). One could argue that Josephus seeks to reconcile the story of twelve m emorial stones (Josh 4:1–24), as the Israelites cross the Jordan into the promised land, with the altar commands embedded in Deut 27:2–8. The formulation of Josephus’ narrative leaves open the possibility that readers might associate the partial fulfilment of Deuteronomy’s Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal ritual directions with the Gilgal altar in Josephus’ reworked edition of the Joshua story. To be sure, the command tied to the day the Israelites cross the Jordan involves erecting large stones and plastering them (Deut 27:2), hence one could contend that the more open-ended timing of the mandate to build an altar, והיה בעברכם את־הירדן, “when you cross the Jordan” (Deut 27:4–5), may be in view.22 In either case, there are problems. As we have seen in the previous chapter, Josephus’ thorough reworking of biblical altar law assimilates the timing of the Shechem area altar legislation (Deut 27:2–8) to that of the centralization legislation, namely when Israel finds itself securely established in the land (Deut 12:8– 12). This critical change in the schedule of building the Shechem area altar, over against the schedule(s) mandated by Deuteronomy, is an obstacle to the harmonization hypothesis, because Josephus’ reframing of the Mt. Ebal/Mt.Gerizim laws lacks any mandate to build an altar upon entering the land (Ant. 3.305– 308). 20 In this literary sequence, the covenant with the Gibeonites (Josh 9:3–27) is “preceded by a celebration of the covenant with Yahweh.” So C. Nihan, “The Torah between Samaria and Judah: On Shechem and Gerizim in Deuteronomy and Joshua,” in The Pentateuch as Torah: New Models for Understanding Its Promulgation and Acceptance (ed. G. N. K noppers and B. M. Levinson; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 220. 21 As Auld (“Reading Joshua after Kings,” 110) observes, the different locations of this pericope demonstrate that “it is in fact not original at all, but a latecomer looking for a suitable home.” 22 By the same token, the more general wording at the beginning of v. 4 (“when you cross the Jordan …”) also applies to the establishment and plastering of the large stones. That activity (the writing, not the plastering) does not occur, however, until the altar is built on Mt. Ebal (MT Josh 8:32; LXX 9:2c).
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Second, Josephus does not draw a connection with that earlier text (Deut 27:2–8). As Begg observes, there is a “lack of any Rückverweis to Ant. 4.305– 308 (// Deuteronomy 27), such as one does find in [Ant.] 5.68–70.”23 Hence, it is unclear whether Josephus intends the notice as a partial or initial fulfillment of Moses’ injunctions.24 Third, it is not altogether clear whether Josephus is expounding his particular (variant) Vorlage of Joshua, drawing on another otherwise unknown tradition, or creatively reworking his biblical source.25 Given the pluriformity of biblical texts in the last centuries BCE, the possibility that Josephus’ Vorlage of Joshua differed in some respects from both MT and LXX Joshua cannot be discounted.26 It is curious that in the Septuagintal story of the altar challenge posed by the Transjordanian tribes, the two-and-a-half tribes construct their altar “at Gilgal by the Jordan” (εἰς Γάλγαλα τοῦ ᾿Ιορδάνου), which is located “in the land of Canaan” (ἥ ἐστιν ἐν γῇ Χαναάν).27 There is no clear indication that Josephus was aware of this tradition presented in the LXX, but its existence is nonetheless significant, as it provides another example of textual fluidity in the development of biblical writings during the last centuries BCE.28 In the case of the Gilgal sacrificial installation, it seems unlikely that Josephus would devise such an assertion out of whole cloth.29 Josephus is not in the habit of inventing altars that are unattested in his biblical sources.30 It seems more 23 C. T. Begg, “The Cisjordanian Altar(s) and their Associated Rites According to Josephus,” BZ 41/2 (1997): 192–211 (202). 24 Josephus’ knowledge of the Gilgal altar tradition, whatever it source(s), may have been one factor leading him to alter the timing of the Mt. Ebal/Mt. Gerizim altar legislation (as discussed in the last chapter). 25 Begg opts for the last option (“The Cisjordanian Altar(s),” 202), but Ulrich and Rofé take a different view, “Joshua’s First Altar,” 92–93; idem, “Mount Gerizim and 4Q Josha,” 370–71; Rofé, “Editing of the Book of Joshua,” 79–80. The comments of Krause are also relevant, Exodus und Eisodus, 275–96. 26 Nor can one discount the possibility of the influence from another otherwise unknown tradition, given the fact that Joshua was the subject of so much rewriting and reinterpretation in late Second Temple times. See, e.g., A. Feldman, The Rewritten Joshua Scrolls from Qumran: Texts, Translations and Commentary (BZAW 438; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2014). 27 On this curious story and its reworking by Josephus, see section IV below. 28 The MT of Josh 22:10 reads “the districts of the Jordan” ()אל־גלילות הירדן, which were located in the land of Canaan. On the use of גלילה, compare Josh 13:2; Ezek 47:8; Joel 4:4. M. Noth suggests that גלילות הירדןis a locative noun, denoting a fertile area east of the upper Jordan, Das Buch Josua (HAT 7; 2nd ed.; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1953), 70, but he does not discuss the LXX lemma. On the LXX reading, see further, Auld, Joshua: Jesus, son of Nauē, 212; Rösel, Joshua, 349. 29 In the view of van der Meer (Formation and Reformulation, 521), Josephus transforms the stones of Josh 4:20 into an altar. 30 In practically every instance in which Josephus mentions an altar, whether legitimate or illegitimate, in the ancestral period (e.g., Ant. 1.157, 224), the Sinaitic period (e.g., Ant. 3.147– 150), the age of Joshua (e.g., Ant. 4.305, 308; 5.68–70, 100–114), the Judges period (e.g., Ant. 5.343, 346), the early monarchy (e.g., Ant. 6.100–103, 121), the united kingdom (e.g., Ant. 7.329–334; 8.88–90, 101–105, 118), and the dual monarchies (e.g., Ant. 8.22–235; 9.163, 268– 274; 10.50–56, 66–67), there is a corresponding reference in Josephus’ biblical sources (the
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likely that Josephus, like Pseudo-Philo, develops and embellishes either a variant Vorlage of Joshua or an otherwise unknown extra-biblical tradition for his own purposes.31 In any event, the progression of events found in Josephus does not match that found in either the MT or the LXX of Joshua. What is important, from our perspective, is that Josephus transforms Gilgal from a site in which various ceremonies, speeches, and symbolic actions occur (Joshua 3–5), as soon as the Israelites enter the land, to one that also becomes the locus for the first national altar in the land. In Josephus’ work, Gilgal remains the base of Israelite operations, while the Israelites remove most of the indigenous inhabitants from the land (Ant. 5.34, 48, 62, 68), but the Gilgal altar is not mentioned again. The story of the Gilgal altar is not the only major deviation from biblical lore. It is highly significant that Josephus also posits the cultic investiture of Shiloh before he takes up the topic of the national sacrifices at Mt. Ebal (Ant. 5.68). In Josephus’ retelling, Shiloh is an established center of Israel’s cultic life before Shechem ever comes into view. In Joshua, by contrast, Shiloh does not enter the picture until the conquest is complete and the tribal allotments are well underway (Josh 18:1). To this additional novelty in the Flavian historian’s presentation, we now turn.
II. Centralization before Centralization? The Tent of Meeting at Shiloh Within his story about Israel’s emergence in the land, Josephus portrays Joshua moving his base camp from Gilgal into the hill country at Shiloh and establishing “the holy tent” (τὴν ἱεράν σκηνὴν) there (Ant. 5.68).32 The transfer occurs after a period of five years during which Israel successfully campaigns against its enemies (Ant. 5.22–67).33 The conquests include the subjugation of the Pentateuch, Joshua, Judges, Samuel-Kings, Chronicles). The altar in Ant. 5.20 is, therefore, exceptional. To be sure, Josephus advances his own particular interpretations of the characters, events, and institutions he finds and discusses in his sources. There are also some cases in which altars appear in Josephus’ biblical sources that are not replicated in Josephus’ own exposition, but these are a different matter because they involve omissions, rather than new additions. 31 The potted sacred history of Pseudo-Philo, which turns Gilgal into an even more important cultic precinct than the Gilgal, which appears in the Antiquitates Judaicae, is not literarily dependent on Josephus’ work. 32 The language employed by Josephus, “into the hill country” (Ant. 5.68), indicates that he is thinking of the Gilgal by the Jordan, rather than of the Gilgal located in the central hill country. On the latter, see G. N. K noppers, Jews and Samaritans: The Origins and History of Their Early Relations (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013), 200–1. 33 The figure of five years (Ant. 5.68) is likely derived from the chronological notices appearing in Josh 14:7, 10, H. St. J. T hackeray and R. Marcus, Josephus: Jewish Antiquities, Books V–VIII (LCL; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1934), 32–33.
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Gibeonites (Ant. 5.49–57; cf. Josh 9:1–27) and the defeat of a series of royal adversaries (Ant. 5.62–67; cf. Josh 10:1–12:24). The transition from a conquest phase to a post-conquest phase in the people’s history means that Joshua is in a position to erect the tent of meeting at a beautiful site, appropriate for the institution (ἐπιτήδειον γὰρ ἐδόκει τὸ χωρίον διὰ κάλλος; Ant. 5.68). That all of this occurs before Joshua leads the Israelites to the Shechem area is telling, because Josephus regards the tent of meeting as “a portable and itinerant temple” (μεταφερομένου καὶ συμπερινοστοῦντος ναοῦ; Ant. 3.103). Josephus does not address the question of precisely where the tabernacle (or its component parts) was between the time it was carried across the Jordan River (Ant. 5.117) and the time Joshua sets it up at Shiloh, but it is significant that he relates its erection at Shiloh as soon as the conquest is complete.34 A textual trigger for Josephus presenting the conquest as essentially complete may have been the conquest completion formula in Josh 11:23, “Joshua took the entire land ()ויקח יהושע את־כל־הארץ, according to all what Yhwh promised Moses and Joshua assigned it as an inheritance to Israel according their tribal divisions. And the land was at peace from war” ()והארץ שקטה ממלחמה.35 Melding Deuteronomic and Priestly-style traditions from the Pentateuch, Josephus evidently ties the achievement of security within the land to transferring the Israelite camp to Shiloh and erecting the tent of meeting there (Ant. 5.67–68). In his account, there are no Canaanites left in the land, except for a few who survived because of the strength of their (urban) walls (Ant. 5.68).36 By comparison, in Joshua Gilgal remains the Israelite base of operations at the time the land allotments to the Transjordanian tribes (13:8–33) and to the tribes of Judah and Joseph occur (14:6–17:18). Shiloh does not come into focus until “all the council of the descendants of Israel ( )כל־עדת בני־ישראלassembled at Shiloh” and “set up” ( )ושכינוthe tent of meeting there (Josh 18:1).37 At this point, the land allotments to the remaining seven tribes begin (Josh 18:1–19:51). The summary at the end of the territorial distributions confirms the location of
34 The narrative of Josh 3:1–17 speaks of the ark being transported across the Jordan River, but makes no mention of the tabernacle. 35 Joshua includes multiple completion formulae (11:23; 21:43–45). In MT and LXX Joshua, the first claim (Josh 11:23) precedes the summary account of Joshua’s defeat of enemy kings east and west of the Jordan (Josh 12:1–24). 36 Josephus’ source is inconsistent in speaking about the extent of the conquest. Some texts wax about complete success in victory (e.g., Josh 11:8, 14, 17, 20, 21, 23; 21:41–43), but others speak of remaining territories and towns yet to be conquered (Josh 11:22; 13:1b–6; 15:63; 16:10; 17:11–13; 19:47). The sub-theme of enemies yet to be vanquished becomes one of the dominant themes of Joshua’s first farewell address (23:2–16), yet this address only appears in summary fashion (along with the final address and exchange of 24:1–27) in the Antiquitates Judaicae (5.90–91, 115–116). 37 Intriguingly, the (Priestly-style) text comments: “The land was subdued before them” ( ;והארץ נכבשה לפניהםJosh 18:1).
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Shiloh, specifically “the entrance to the tent of meeting” ()פתח אהל מועד, as the place at which the remaining territorial allocations occur (Josh 19:51). I would argue that Josephus’ positioning of the notice about the camp’s transfer from Gilgal to Shiloh after a period of five years (Ant. 5.68) reflects careful orchestration. The short notice about Joshua’s “erecting the holy tent at Shiloh” (ἱστᾷ τὴν ἱερὰν σκηνὴν κατὰ Σιλοῦν) is strategically situated in Josephus’ narrative to signal Israel’s compliance, at least on a preliminary basis, with the divine command to the Israelites to centralize worship, as demanded by Deuteronomy (Deut 11:31–12:31) once the Israelites had become peacefully settled in the land. The issue of timing is important. One of the divine commands links the divine gift of rest to Israel’s responsibility to implement unity and purity of worship (Deut 12:10). When the Israelites reside safely in the land ()וישבתם־בטח, they are to begin bringing their burnt offerings, sacrifices, tithes, and so forth to the place of God’s own choosing (Deut 12:10–11). To be sure, Josephus is careful not to declare Shiloh to be the place “Yhwh has chosen” ()בחר. Far from it, Josephus explicitly speaks of the tabernacle as being set up in a beautiful location Joshua selected for it until circumstances would allow the Israelites to construct a temple (ἕως οἰκοδομεῖν ναὸν αὐτοῖς τὰ πράγματα παράσχοι; Ant. 5.68).38 But the very association Josephus draws between the two cultic precincts indicates that Shiloh serves as a precursor to the temple.39 Joshua’s establishment of the “holy tent” at Shiloh immediately after Israel had vanquished all of its foes redounds, therefore, to Joshua’s good reputation.40 Both the achievement of security in the land and the establishment of the tent at Shiloh contribute to the larger pattern of orthopraxy characterizing this era in the Antiquitates Judaicae.41 This brings us back to the literary contextualization of the tabernacle’s erection at Shiloh within Josephus’ larger presentation. It hardly seems a coinci38 The explanation for Joshua’s selection of Shiloh does not appear in Joshua. The surviving fragments of Eupolemus (Eusebius, Praep. ev. 9.34.1–14) reflect, in this case, a somewhat similar literary design. Shiloh serves as Israel’s place of worship, the home of the “sacred tent,” until the Jerusalem temple is built (Eusebius, Praep. ev. 9.34.1). Solomon travels to Shiloh, offers a thousand oxen as a burnt offering to God, retrieves the tent, the sacrificial altar, and the furnishings, which Moses had made, and installs them in the house (of God). Although Eupolemus’ account is clearly based on the version of Solomon’s pilgrimage to Gibeon found in 2 Chr 1:2–13 (cf. 1 Kgs 3:4–14), he (or his source) has adjusted the location to accord with the belief that Shiloh played host to the tent of meeting until the permanent sanctuary was constructed. Similarly, according to b. Zebah 118b the tent of meeting resided at Shiloh for 369 ˙ years. Cf. b. Sanh. 103b. 39 Josephus refers to the tent as a temple often in his summary of tabernacle legislation (Ant. 3.103, 125, 129, 130, 139, 142, 202, 242, 243, 245, 270, 278; 4.200, 201, 203, 313, 314). 40 The encomium Joshua receives from Josephus in summarizing his life accomplishments (Ant. 5.117–118) is no accident (cf. Josh 24:19). That eulogy is anticipated by Josephus’ laudatory introduction to Joshua (Ant. 3.49), Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4, 242–43; Begg, Judean Antiquities Books 5–7, 29. 41 Begg, Judean Antiquities 5–7, 27.
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dence that the notice about Shiloh’s promotion prefaces the ensuing account of the construction of an altar on Mt. Ebal (Ant. 5.69–70).42 It may be acknowledged that the reordering effected by Josephus results in a more logical progression than that found in the Joshua narrative.43 Yet, the rationalization of the (dis) order found in Josephus’ source (presumably a text partially resembling MT or LXX Joshua) only explains the order found in Josephus’ work in part. Josephus could have easily marched the Israelites to Mt. Ebal and Mt. Gerizim for their pan-Israelite proceedings and Torah recitation following the conquest before having Joshua establish the tent of meeting at Shiloh. That the Flavian historian positions the tent of meeting at Shiloh before discussing the Shechem area proceedings is significant both in literary and in theological terms. Consideration of Josephus’ summary rendition of the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal injunctions found in Deuteronomy 27 (Ant. 4.305–308) adds another dimension to apprehending his discussion of the Shechem area proceedings. In his discussion of the ancestral constitution, the Flavian historian speaks of the command to erect an altar (τὸν βωμόν τε ἀναστῆσαι), once the Israelites fully conquer the land of the Canaanites (ἐξελόντας δὲ τὴν Χαναναίων γῆν) and utterly destroy all of its inhabitants (καὶ πᾶσαν διαφθείραντας τὴν ἐν αὐτῇ πληθὺν; Ant. 4.305). As we have seen (in the last chapter), Josephus’ discussion lacks any reference to the temporal conditions of implementation found in the ancestral constitution.44 Rather, Josephus assimilates the timing of the Shechem altar legislation to that of the centralization legislation. The commemoration to occur in the Shechem area is to await the complete conquest of the land and the elimination of aboriginals (Ant. 4.305–308; cf. Deut 12:10–11). Yet, having coordinated the timing of establishing a central locus for worship with the national ceremonies legislated at Shechem, Josephus has to mention the establishment of the tabernacle at Shiloh before mentioning the altar on Mt. Ebal. If he did not do so, the Mt. Ebal altar could become confused with the central altar. For the sake of the larger argument Josephus wishes to make, Shiloh has to usurp Shechem’s narratival and theological priority. Indeed, notices about Shiloh’s status as the ongoing base of Israelite operations precede and follow the portrayal of sacrifices and imprecations in the Shechem area.
42 So also C. G. T hornton, “Anti-Samaritan Exegesis Reflected in Josephus’ Retelling of Deuteronomy, Judges, and Samuel,” JTS 47 (1996): 125–30 (128). 43 Noort, “4QJosha ,” 141; van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, 521; R. P ummer, The Samaritans in Flavius Josephus (TSAJ 129; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009), 277–78. 44 Thus, והיה ביום אשר תעברו את־הירדן אל־הארץ, “on the day you cross over the Jordan into the land” (Deut 27:2) or, alternatively, והיה בעברכם את־הירדן, “when you cross over the Jordan” (Deut 27:4). The general formulation, “when you cross the Jordan,” is also found in the introduction to the central law code (Deut 11:31) and within the centralization legislation itself (Deut 12:10). Yet, the conditions spelled out in Deut 12:10 specify the timing further.
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Action
Josephus
A Camp and Tabernacle established at Shiloh
Ant. 5.68
B Offerings and Curses on the Mt. Ebal Altar A Israelites Return to Shiloh 1
Ant. 5.69–70 Ant. 5.70
In both temporal and literary terms, Shiloh circumscribes Shechem. Josephus carefully speaks of the establishment of an ongoing site of national worship, once Israel is settled in the land, but that site is located at Shiloh and not at Shechem (Ant. 5.69).45 By speaking of the “portable and itinerant temple” as being located at Shiloh (Ant. 5.68) before he has even raised the topic of the Mt. Ebal and Mt. Gerizim ceremonies, Josephus carefully articulates the nature, setting, and focus of Israel’s sacrificial worship to his Judean readers during the period of land surveys, territorial allotments, and tribal settlement, a process that does not include an enduring cultic commitment to the area in which Samaritans later located their Yahwistic temple.
III. Sacrifices and Imprecations at Mt. Ebal If Josephus advances the move to Shiloh chronologically to preface the Israelite tribal allotments, he delays the all-Israelite convocation at Mt. Ebal chronologically to the post-conquest era. Unlike the timing of the Mt. Ebal assembly in MT Josh 8:30–35, following the campaign against Ai (Josh 8:1–29), and in LXX Josh 9:2a–f, following the notice about the Cisjordanian kings leaguing together against Joshua and Israel (Josh 9:1), the Mt. Ebal ceremony occurs after the Israelites defeat their Canaanite foes and predates the division of the land among the various Israelite tribes (Ant. 5.71–92; cf. Josh 13:1–21:40). In Josephus’ systematic reworking of the Joshua story, the offering of sacrifices on an altar near Shechem functions, therefore, as an “interlude” between establishing security in the Cisjordan and allocating land among the Israelite sodalities.46 The journey to the Shechem area is clearly a side-trip, not the culmination of the conquest, celebrating Israel’s possession of the land.47 The sequence in Jose45 Whereas Josephus locates the altar on Mt. Ebal, following his Vorlage of Joshua, his earlier paraphrase of Moses’ instructions in Deuteronomy placed the altar “not far from the city of the Shechemites,” located “between the two mountains” (Ant. 4.305). Josephus may have been unaware of the tension in his account, Begg, “Cisjordanian Altar(s),” 196. Alternatively, the ambiguity in rewriting Deuteronomy served Josephus’ larger literary purpose of balancing the blessing (Mt. Gerizim) and the curse (Mt. Ebal). See E. Nodet, S. Bardet, and Y. Lederman, Les antiquités juives: Flavius Josèphe (5 vols.; Paris: Cerf, 1990–2010), 2.4.305, 308. 46 Begg, “Cisjordanian Altar(s),” 204. 47 On this function in the base text of Joshua, see J-.L. Ska, “Josh 8:30–35: Israel Officially
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phus may be fruitfully compared with that in Samaritan tradition, even though the Samaritan tradition, as we have it, only dates to medieval times.48 The socalled Chronicon Samaritanum and the Kitāb al–Tarīkh of Abū ʾl Fath differ on ˙ numerous details, but each of these writings lack any sacrifices in the communal celebration at Gilgal, and highlight the offering of sacrifices on the altar Joshua constructed at Mt. Gerizim after the people conquer the land. One of the Samaritan Chronicles, so-called Samaritan Joshua, follows a modified outline of Josephus in portraying Israel’s arrival in the land.49 This chronicle speaks of the erection of twelve stones (but not an altar) at Ğalīl (Sam Joshua 15) in conjunction with the communal singing of a celebratory hymn (Sam Josh 16) that recalls the Song of the Sea (Exod 15:1–18).50 Subsequent to the successful conquest of the entire land in a single year, a pan-Israelite feast occurs at “the blessed mountain” (Sam Josh 21).51 There, Joshua offers sacrifices for the people before the land apportionment begins (Sam Josh 22). Another medieval Samaritan chronicle, Abū ʾl Fath, follows, with some important variations, the broad outline ˙ found in MT Joshua. Having defeated the enemy at Hūta (Abū ʾl Fath 13.55– ˙ 14.57; cf. Ai in Josh 8:1–29), Joshua builds an altar of stones at Mt. Gerizim, sacrifices there, and reads the Torah in its entirety with half the people facing Mt. Gerizim and the other half facing Mt. Ebal (Abū ʾl Fath 14.57–58). Each of ˙ these writings postdates the biblical book of Joshua and the exposition of Josephus by many centuries, but these works are nevertheless useful in gaining a better understanding of how early Israel’s emergence in the land was imagined differently in Samaritan tradition from that of Josephus.52 Takes Possession of the Land,” in „Gerechtigkeit und Recht zu üben“ (Gen 18,19): Studien zur altorientalischen und biblischen Rechtsgeschichte, zur Religionsgeschichte Israels und zur Religionssoziologie – Festschrift für Eckart Otto zum 65. Geburtstag (ed. R. Achenbach and M. A rneth; BZAR 13; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2009), 308–16. 48 The Samaritan tenth commandment (see the chapter elsewhere in this volume), dating perhaps to the last century BCE or the first centuries CE, provides, however, critical clues about how its authors construed the fulfilment of Deuteronomy’s altar instructions. 49 The base of this work dates to the thirteenth century, P. L. Stenhouse, “Samaritan Chronicles,” in The Samaritans, ed. A. D. Crown (Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1989), 218–65. The author(s) of this chronicle may have known the work of Josephus indirectly through Josippon. So R. Pummer, “Alexander und die Samaritaner nach Josephus und nach samaritanischen Quellen,” in Die Samaritaner und die Bibel: Die Samaritaner in der biblischen Tradition—die jüdische und frühchristliche Geschichte in samaritanischen Quellen (ed. J. Frey, U. Schattner-Rieser, and K. Schmid; SJ 70; StSam 7; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2012), 157–79. 50 See the chapter, “Samaritan Conceptions of Jewish Origins and Jewish Conceptions of Samaritan Origins,” elsewhere in this volume. 51 Hence, not a five-year conquest as in Josephus (Ant. 5.68; cf. Josh 14:7–10) and a sacrificial ceremony at Mt. Gerizim, not at Mt. Ebal (MT Josh 8:30; LXX Josh 9:2a; cf. Deut 27:4). See A. G. Auld, Joshua: Jesus, son of Nauē, in Codex Vaticana (SCS; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 152– 53. 52 Whether these composite works, whose bases date to the medieval era, recall antique Samaritan interpretations is unclear, because according to Samaritan tradition many early Samaritan literary works were destroyed during the reign(s) of Hadrian or Commodus.
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Josephus’ brief depiction of the all-Israelite ceremonies on Mt. Ebal resonates with some features in the biblical account (MT 8:30–35; 9:2a–f), but critically omits many others.53 In some instances, his writing follows the interpretive lead of Josh 8:30–35 in construing the fulfillment of Moses’ instructions (Deut 27:2– 13) more closely than it does the creative overwriting of that legislation within his own work (Ant. 4.305–308).54 In a few other instances, it does the opposite, following the pattern of his version of the Shechem legislation (Ant. 4.305–308), rather than of the biblical account (Josh 8:30–35).55 Yet, in a few other cases Josephus goes his own way. The national procession led by Joshua to Shechem (ἐπὶ Σικίμων; Ant. 5.69) includes Joshua’s erection of an altar (βωμόν τε ἵστησιν) at the spot Moses prescribed (ὅπου προεῖπε Μωυσῆς).56 In Josephus’ retelling, Joshua positions half the Israelite army (τὴν στρατιὰν) at Mt. Gerizim (τῷ Γαριζεῖ ὄρει) and the other half at Ebal (τῷ Ἡβήλῳ; Ant. 5.69).57 It is in connection with this configuration that Josephus speaks of the realization of the altar command delivered by Moses (Deut 27:5), to be actualized in the area of Shechem between the two mountains (Ant. 4.305).58 Over against his biblical sources, which describe the altar as made up of unfinished stones untouched by iron (Deut 27:5; MT Josh 8:31; LXX 9:2b), Josephus does not address the style of the Mt. Ebal altar construction.59 The omission hardly seems accidental, both because his summary rendition (Ant. 4.305– 308) of Deut 27:2–26 also lacks any discussion of altar composition and because he knows the passage (and its source – Exod 20:25–26) well. Elsewhere, Josephus makes clear that he understands the undressed stone style of altar compo-
53 By comparison, Pseudo Philo’s work (LAB 21.7) rewrites Joshua’s fulfillment of Moses’ instructions about Torah recitation to comply, in some respects, more closely with the instructions themselves. Yet, Pseudo-Philo does not mention an altar on Mt. Ebal (see the next chapter in this volume). 54 Begg, “Cisjordanian Altar(s),” 204–8; idem, Judean Antiquities Books 5–7, 18. 55 Begg, “Cisjordanian Altar(s),” 204–11; idem, Judean Antiquities Books 5–7, 18. 56 Although neither Deut 27:2–26 nor Josh 8:30–35 mention Shechem by name, Josephus’ reworking of the Deuteronomy instructions (Ant. 4.305) does. 57 It is unclear why Josephus specifically references the Israelite army in this instance. His sources consistently speak of the Israelites as a body politic (Deut 11:26–30; 27:2–26; Ant. 4.304–309) and Joshua mentions the presence of women, children, and sojourners (MT Josh 8:30–35; LXX 9:2a–f). 58 Begg, “Cisjordanian Altar(s),” 202. The entire area associated with the two mountains was sometimes viewed within antiquity as a single entity (Shechem). Hence, the work of Theodotus (fr. 2), not known for being friendly to this area within Samaria, nevertheless speaks of “Holy Shechem.” 59 That this is so is confirmed by Josephus’ own rewrite of Josh 8:32 (LXX 9:2c) in which he comments that the Israelites left the curses engraved upon the altar (καὶ ταύτας ἐπὶ τῷ βωμῷ γεγραμμένας; Ant. 5.70). In contrast, Joshua writes a copy of the torah (or Deuteronomy—so the LXX) on the altar stones (MT Josh 8:32; LXX Josh 9:2c).
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sition to be normative for the configuration of the central altar. 60 As we have seen, Josephus’ articulation of the Mosaic constitution mandates that the sacrificial altar positioned at the temple in the holy city, whose whereabouts would be revealed through prophecy, had to be composed of unworked stones (λίθων μὴ κατειργασμένων) lightly coated with plaster (κονιάματι χρισθέντες; Ant. 4.200). 61 The first part of the citation resonates with Covenant Code stipulation: “You are not to build (the altar) with hewn stones” ( ;אבני גזיתExod 20:25) and the reworking of that stipulation in Deut 27:5–6, “an altar of stones, you are not to brandish iron over them; (with) whole stones you are to build the altar of Yhwh your God.” The second part of Josephus’ citation resonates with the initial command in Deut 27:2, “you are to set up for yourselves large stones and you are to plaster them with plaster” ( )והקמת לך אבנים גדלות ושדת אתם בשיד.62 Similarly, when the Flavian writer (B.J. 5.225) asserts that the construction of the altar in the temple (re)built by Herod “was prepared without any iron tool, nor did such an iron tool ever touch it” (κατεσκευάσθη δὲ ἄνευ σιδήρου, καὶ οὐδέποτ᾽ ἔψαυεν αὐτοῦ σίδηρος), Josephus signals to his readers the scrupulous adherence of Herod’s builders to the mandate of Deut 27:5, לא־תניף עליהם ברזל, “You must not brandish iron upon them (the stones of the altar).”63 In brief, Josephus construes the altar legislation of Deut 27:5–7, itself a selective rewrite of Exod 20:24–26, as specifying how the central altar ought to be constructed, rather than as specifying how one particular altar (the Mt. Ebal altar) ought to be constructed. Paradoxically, then, he does not cite specific details of the Mt. Ebal altar legislation with reference to the composition of the Mt. Ebal altar. Josephus does not explain his selections from prestigious texts and his omissions from the same, but it may be surmised that he wished to safeguard the unique sanctity of the central (Jerusalem) altar by not confusing it with the altar near Shechem, which the Samaritans considered not only to be sacrosanct, but also one and the same as the altar called for in the centralization legislation (Deut 11:31–12:31). 60
As discussed in the previous chapter in this volume. The reference to plaster demonstrates that Josephus has Deut 27:5 in mind and not simply its source in the Covenant Code (Exod 20:25). On the studious development of the Covenant Code stone altar stipulations in the (re)interpretation of Deut 27:5–7, see C. Nihan, “The Torah between Samaria and Judah,” in The Pentateuch as Torah (ed. G. N. Knoppers and B. M. Levinson; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 187–223; idem, “Garizim et Ebal dans le Pentateuque,” Sem 54 (2012): 185–210. 62 Hence, he follows Josh 8:32 in understanding the sequence of commands in Deut 27:2–8 as entailing that the Israelites are to inscribe the stones of the altar, rather than those of a separate stele. As we shall see in the following chapter, Pseudo-Philo understands the sequence of commands differently. 63 See also C. A p. 1.198. In his discussion of the Solomonic temple, Josephus draws on 2 Chr 4:1 to discuss the bronze altar (Ant. 8.88; cf. 3.149; 5.112), which is missing from the description in Kings. 61
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Having offered sacrifices on Mt. Ebal, the Israelites pronounce the curses (ἀρὰς ποιησάμενοι) and leave them behind inscribed upon the altar (ταύτας ἐπὶ τῷ βωμῷ γεγραμμένας καταλιπόντες; Ant. 5.69–70). 64 In Joshua, an emphasis is placed on Joshua reading “all the words of the torah” ()כל־דברי התורה, “the blessing and the curse” ()הברכה והקללה, according to all what was written in the scroll of the torah, before the entire assembly of Israel ()נגד כל־קהל ישראל, including women, children, and sojourners ( ; הנשים והטף והגרMT Josh 8:34–35; LXX 9:2e–f). 65 But in the Judean Antiquities, no recitation of the instruction of Moses occurs, only a communal recitation and inscription of the curses on the altar. Although Mt. Gerizim is mentioned (Ant. 5.69), the site plays no strategic function, because there are neither blessings pronounced (Deut 11:29; 27:12; MT Josh 8:33; LXX 9:2d; Ant. 4.306) nor blessings written (Ant. 4.307–308; cf. Deut 27:8). There is neither any “rejoicing in the presence of Yhwh your God” ( ;ושמחת לפני יהוה אלהיךDeut 27:7) nor any sort of antiphonal liturgy (Deut 27:14– 26; Ant. 4.307). The observance takes on, therefore, a more restricted and austere cast than its biblical counterpart. The intention is likely to underline the status of Mt. Ebal as the mountain of the curse (Deut 11:29; 27:13, 14–26). To summarize: the altar is used once for sacrifice and thereafter serves, by implication, only as a stone edifice memorializing the covenant’s execrations. 66 There are other disparities between Josephus’ account and his biblical sour ces. The priests and the Levites attend the proceedings (Ant. 5.69), but do not play any distinctive role, such as carrying the ark (MT Josh 8:33; LXX 9:2d). 67 Indeed, the ark of the covenant of Yhwh does not make any appearance in Josephus’ account (cf. MT Josh 8:33; LXX 9:2d).68 That Josephus omits any reference to the ark is significant, because the ark is an integral component of the tent of meeting in pentateuchal law (the so-called P source: Exod 25:10; 34:29; 37:1– 9), as Josephus himself affirms (Ant. 3.134–138). Given that Josephus has Joshua establish the “holy tent” at Shiloh (Ant. 5.68) before he leads the Israelites up to the Shechem area (Ant. 5.69) and that he leads the people back to Shiloh after the 64 In contrast, Joshua writes a “copy of the torah of Moses” (MT Josh 8:32 )משנה תורת משה, or more specifically “Deuteronomion, the law of Moses” (LXX 9:2c τὸ δευτερονόμιον, νόμον Μωυσῆ) on the altar stones. 65 The stress on the presence of women, children, and sojourners does not appear in Deut 11:26–30; 27:1–26 (cf. Gen 34:29; 45:19; 46:5; Num 14:3; 31:9; 32:26; Josh 1:14; Judg 21:10; Esth 3:13; 8:11). 66 The claim in m. Sot ah 7.5 that the altar was demolished following the sacrifice, although ˙ not based on Josh 8:30–35, addresses the question left unanswered in the text of what happened to the altar following its use in the Mt. Ebal ceremony. 67 MT Deut 27:9 and MT Josh 8:33 speak of the Levitical priests. In this case, the reading of Josephus agrees with LXX Deut 27:9, Josh 9:2d, and some other ancient witnesses in speaking of priests and Levites. 68 Compared with the legislation of Deut 27:2–26 (and its rewrite in Ant. 4.305–308), the ark is an addition in the fulfillment pericope (MT Josh 8:33; LXX 9:2d). The ark is, of course, also an important cultic artifact in its own right in Deuteronomy, Joshua, Samuel, and 1 K ings.
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Mt. Ebal proceedings have concluded (Ant. 5.70), readers may assume that the ark remained at Shiloh during the temporary trek to Shechem. The following synopsis, with cross-references to available parallels in Joshua, does not do full justice to the extent to which Josephus actively condenses, paraphrases, and overwrites his Vorlage of Joshua. Action
Josephus
Joshua
Altar at Gilgal
Ant. 5.20
—
Jericho Siege; Campaign vs. Ai and Achar’s Sin
Ant. 5.22–48
Josh 6:1–8:29
Gibeon Deceit; Southern/Northern Campaigns Ant. 5.49–66
9:3–11:15
Synopsis of Conquest
Ant. 5.68
11:16–12:24
Gilgal to Shiloh: Camp Moved and Tent Established
Ant. 5.68
18:1
Mt. Ebal Altar Ceremonies
Ant. 5.68–69
8:30–35 (LXX 9:2a–f)
Return to Shiloh
Ant. 5.70
—
Assembly at Shiloh: Remaining Tasks
Ant. 5.71–75
Cf. 13:1b–7; 18:1–7
Character of the Land
Ant. 5.76–79
—69
Territorial Allotments
Ant. 5.80–88
Cf. Josh 13:8–19:51
69 To summarize, Josephus’ portrayal of public ceremonies in the Shechem area repositions this pan-Israelite pilgrimage as consequent to the conquest. Josephus relativizes and delimits the Mt. Ebal observances, surrounding them with references to Joshua’s establishment of Shiloh. In the Judean Antiquities, the erection of the tent of meeting in Shiloh not only predates the tribal allotments, but it also predates the Shechem sacrifices and ceremonies. Melding Deuteronomic and Priestly motifs within his own composition, Josephus depicts the tent of meeting at Shiloh as the central, albeit pro tempore, sacred precinct until the Jerusalem temple is built centuries later. With his careful reworking of Joshua, Josephus clarifies to his Judean readers what the Mt. Ebal proceedings do and do not represent in the life of Israel. By carefully coordinating the timing of the all-Israelite commemoration in the area of Shechem (MT Josh 8:30–35; LXX Josh 9:2a–f) with that of establishing the tabernacle at Shiloh, Josephus presents the Shechem rituals as a constituent part of the transition from a conquest to a post-conquest phase in Israel’s early history (Ant. 5.68–70). Josephus does not completely ignore well-beloved pentateuchal texts in Samaritan tradition (Deut 11:26–30; 27:1–26), but depicts Joshua’s fulfillment of their rewritten terms to leave no doubt about what was (and 69
Cf. Deut 8:7–9; 11:11–12.
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what was not) Shechem’s proper role in Israel’s past. The sacrifices on Mt. Ebal conformed to divine commands, commemorating the execrations of the Torah. As such, the sacrifices represented a one-time event, never again to be repeated (Ant. 4.308).
IV. Shiloh, the Transjordanian Altar, and the Question of a Sanctuary at Shechem Consistent with Josephus’ insistence that Shiloh serves as the pan-Israelite cultic center and base of operations in the post-conquest phase of Israelite history, Joshua and the people return to Shiloh following the national observances at Shechem (Ant. 5.70).70 At Shiloh, Joshua makes a point of convoking a pan-Israelite assembly to address a number of issues: the resistance expected from the remaining fortified Canaanite cities, the dismissal of the Transjordanian tribes to their holdings, and the commissioning of representatives from each tribe to survey the land (Ant. 5.72–75).71 When the Israelite assembly gives its assent to Joshua’s proposals (Ant. 5.76), the territorial allotments begin. During the period of land distributions and tribal settlements, Shiloh remains as Israel’s cultic center (Ant. 5.72, 79).72 The only challenge to this state of affairs occurs, when the Transjordanian tribes decide to build their own altar; yet, in this case, Josephus follows scripture (Josh 22:11–34) and deems the altar established by the tribes of Reuben, Gad, and (Half-) Manasseh to be non-sacrificial in nature (Ant. 5.100–114).73 Indeed, after hearing the good news that the altar on the eastern bank of the Jordan River was constructed as a symbol of the tribes’ enduring relationship with their Hebrew kin in the Cisjordan, rather than as a locus for sacrificial offerings, Joshua rejoices and offers sacrifices (θυσίας), presumably at the altar located at Shiloh (Ant. 5.112, 114).74 70 This picture contrasts with Joshua, where the people’s base camp remains at Gilgal (MT Josh 9:6; 14; 10:6–9, 15, 43; 14:6; LXX Josh 9:6; 10:6–9), even while the tribal land allocations begin to get underway (Josh 14:6). 71 Josephus evidently substitutes an expanded and rewritten version of Josh 18:1–7 as an introduction to the system of land allotments for the private speech of Yhwh to Joshua appearing in Josh 13:1b–6. The content of that divine oracle, which provides a detailed enumeration of territories still be conquered in the southeast and the north, partly appears in a later summary comment (Ant. 5.89), Begg, Judean Antiquities 5–7, 19–22. 72 It is also the place where the tribes assemble during the late civil war of the Chieftains era (Ant. 5.150). In Judg 20:1, the assembly occurs at Mizpah. See further Ant. 5.170 (Judg 21:19), 343, 357. The change from Mizpah to Shiloh is one of several that contributes to a more sanitized and simplistic picture of ancient Israelite cultic praxis, Pummer, Samaritans in Flavius Josephus, 278–79. 73 Begg, Judean Antiquities 5–7, 27–28. 74 In Ant. 5.112–113, God is invoked as a witness, rather than the altar itself (MT Josh 22:27).
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To summarize: Josephus speaks of four altars in the land. One is non-sacrificial (the Transjordanian altar), two are occasional (Gilgal, Mt. Ebal), and one has an ongoing official status until the temple is built (Shiloh).75 The implication seems clear. Rearranging, modifying, and creatively augmenting his biblical Vorlage, Josephus presents early Israel as practicing a pre-centralization version of orthopraxis for some twenty years (Ant. 5.117).76 Shiloh serves as Israel’s official place of worship until the temple is built (Ant. 5.68). Nevertheless, there is another part of the Joshua story that deserves close consideration in grasping the force of Josephus’ compositional choices. Aside from receiving copious attention in the story of Israel’s emergence in the land, northern Israel factors prominently at the end of the book. Shechem, in particular, plays a prominent role in the last public event of Joshua’s life. There, in the vicinity of the Shechem sanctuary, Joshua convokes a pan-Israelite assembly, rehearses the past, and concludes a covenant with the people (Josh 24:1–27).77 In addition to this cultic precinct located in the heart of Samaria, the book of Joshua mentions other, mostly unspecified, Yahwistic sanctuaries. A brief discussion of the relevant texts promises to shed further light on Josephus’ exposition. In the story of Israelite conquests, the text mentions Israelite donations of war booty made to an unnamed “treasury of the house of Yhwh” (;אוצר בית־יהוה Josh 6:24).78 In Josephus (Ant. 5.32), the donations are given by Joshua to the priests for deposit in the (unspecified) treasuries. Addressing the Gibeonites’ ruse, Joshua consigns the Gibeonites to perpetual status as hewers of wood and drawers of water “for the temple of my God” ( ;לבית אלהיMT Josh 9:23).79 Alternatively, Joshua appoints them as hewers of wood and drawers of water “for the congregation ( )לעדהand for the altar of Yhwh ( )ולמזבח יהוהuntil this day at the place he will choose” (MT Josh 9:27).80 In the Antiquitates Judaicae (5.57), Joshua and the council consign the Gibeonites simply to slavery (δικαιούντων). In each case, the Flavian historian distances the activities, decisions, and dedications of these figures from the implication that they might be associated with an extant shrine. That the national convocation of “all the tribes of Israel” at Shechem occurs “before God” ()לפני האלהים, suggesting a cultic setting (Josh 24:1).81 Indeed, in 75 The pre-centralized worship before centralization motif is even more evident in the work of Pseudo-Philo. There, Gilgal functions as a center of worship before Shiloh takes on this role (LAB 21–22). 76 The breakdown of Joshua’s life into two periods is not found in Josephus’ biblical source (Joshua 24), Begg, Judean Antiquities 5–7, 29. 77 So the MT. I n the LXX, the convocation occurs at Shiloh (ἐν Σηλω). 78 LXX εἰς θησαυρὸν κυρίου, “for the treasury of the Lord.” 79 LXX ἐμοὶ καὶ τῷ θεῷ μου, “for me and my God.” 80 LXX τοῦ θυσιαστηρίου τοῦ θεοῦ, “for the altar of God.” 81 The phrase “before God” ( )לפני האלהיםor “before Yhwh” ( )לפני יהוהcharacteristically indicates the setting of a sacred precinct (HALOT 942a–b). This is also true of dedicatory usage
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depicting the assembly, the authors mention a “sanctuary of Yhwh” (;מקדש יהוה Josh 24:26).82 Having established “a statute and an ordinance” for the people (Josh 24:25), “Joshua wrote these words in a scroll of the torah of God ( )בספר תורת אלהיםand took a great stone and set it up there under the oak ()האלה, which was by the sanctuary of Yhwh” (Josh 24:26). The mention of the oak recalls the story of Abram’s journey into the land (Gen 12:6), which speaks of his first destination as the “place Shechem” ()מקום שכם, as far as “the oak of Moreh” ( ;עד אלון מורהMT) or as far as “the oak of Mura” ( ;עד אלון מוראSP). 83 The “oak(s) of Moreh/Mura,” is (are) also mentioned in the commands given to the Israelites to pronounce the blessing at Mt. Gerizim and the curse at Mt. Ebal in Deuteronomy (11:30). 84 The reference to inscription is also noteworthy. That Joshua writes the terms of the covenant solemnized by Israelites “in the scroll of the torah of God” (Josh 24:26) lends gravity to the commitments the people undertake at this site. Finally, the mention of a cultic precinct is tantalizing. The writers do not elaborate upon the status or history of this shrine, but it is rather significant that they profess diversity in the locations of Israelite sanctuaries during Joshua’s tenure. When discussing Joshua’s final years, Josephus mentions that Joshua lived in Shechem for twenty years, delivered his final oration there (Ant. 5.114–115), died, and was buried in Thamma of the tribe of Ephraim (Ant. 5.117–119). 85 Josephus affirms, therefore, Joshua’s northern heritage. Yet, Josephus does not say in the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions. Those presenting offerings do so “before God in this place” ( )קדם אלהא באתרא דנהor simply “before God” or “before the Lord.” See MGI 147–55 (pp. 16–19, 137–46) and the comments of A. K. de Hemmer Gudme, Before the God in this Place for Good Remembrance: A Comparative Analysis of the Aramaic Votive Inscriptions from Mount Gerizim (BZAW 441; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2013), 70–77, 89–90. 82 So the MT (lectio difficilior). The LXX of Josh 24:26 reads, “before the Lord” (ἀπέναντι κυρίου). In v. 25, the LXX reads Shiloh, instead of Shechem, and adds ἐνώπιον τῆς σκηνῆς τοῦ θεοῦ Ισραηλ, “in the presence of the tent of the God of Israel.” On the lemmata of LXX Josh 24:1, 25 as harmonistic readings, see Nelson, Joshua, 264; Pummer, Samaritans in Flavius Josephus, 276–77. More broadly, see A. Rofé, “The History of Israelite Religion and the Biblical Text: Corrections due to the Unification of Worship,” in Emanuel: Studies in Hebrew Bible, Septuagint, and Dead Sea Scrolls in Honor of Emanuel Tov (ed. S. M. Paul et al.; VTSup 94; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 759–93. The theory of H. G. K ippenberg also deserves mention. He views the change from the reading found in the Hebrew to that of the Greek as a reflection of disputes between Jews and Samaritans in diaspora Egypt (the home of the LXX), Garizim und Synagoge (RVV 30; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1971), 90–91. 83 LXX Gen 12:6 translates its Vorlage as ἐπὶ τὴν δρῦν τὴν ὑψηλήν, “at the high oak.” See further J. W. Wevers, Notes on the Greek Text of Genesis (SBLSCS 35; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1993), 166. 84 A reference to an oak at Shechem, more specifically “an oak of the standing stone, which was at Shechem,” may be reconstructed ()עם אלון מצבה אשר בשכם, as many scholars suggest, in the Abimelek narrative, in Judg 9:6 (LXX πρὸς τῇ βαλάνῳ τῆς στάσεως ἐν Σικιμοις; MT )עם אלון מצב אשר בשכם. The same story mentions “the house of their god(s)” ( ; בית אלהיהםLXX οἶκον θεοῦ αὐτῶν; Judg 9:27). 85 MT Josh 19:49–50; 24:30, תנמת סרח, “Timnath-serah;” LXX 19:49–50 Θαμνασαραχ, “Thamnasarach;” 24:31 Θαμναθασαχαρα, “Thamnathasachara.”
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anything about a Yahwistic sanctuary being located in the vicinity of Shechem. Nor does he say anything about Joshua securing a great stone and establishing it under the oak by Shechem.86 Josephus mentions Joshua’s final address to dignitaries assembled from various quarters before his death (Ant. 5.115–116), but the summarizing portrayal of this public discourse does not enjoy the import it carries in Josephus’ source (Josh 24:1–27).87 There is no corporate covenant made with the Israelite people, as there is in Joshua (24:25). 88 In short, there is no complication or hint of a departure from the larger typology in which Israel has achieved great success under Joshua and Shiloh has gained uncontested prominence as the cultic center for all of Israel. The question that must be asked about this idealized presentation, which is even more uniformly positive than its biblical counterpart, is: why does the content that establishes the standard matter? What is the upshot of emphasizing Shiloh’s unrivalled cultic status from the time it was established until the time of Joshua’s death? There seems little doubt that Josephus’ literary artifice creates a smoother and less problematic version of Israel’s ancient past for his Judean readership than that which appears in his Vorlage. How the Hebrews acted collaboratively, courageously, and honorably on many occasions throughout their long history is one of the major themes of Josephus’ history.89 Joshua and his generation set a high standard for those who followed. The purity and unity of worship during Joshua’s lifetime are two of his enduring legacies in the Ἰουδαϊκὴ ἀρχαιολογία. But the achievement of orthopraxis through the investiture of the Shiloh tent of meeting has a corollary in the demotion of Shechem in the foundational story of Israel’s establishment in the land. The attention given to one of Israel’s most prominent centers (Shechem) in early Israel’s communal life is one of the literary rough edges that must be smoothed out in Josephus’ retelling. Given that the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal area was of particular importance to the Samaritans of 86 It is conceivable that Josephus considered the placement of a large stone ( )אבן גדולהby the great oak in the Shechem sanctuary objectionable in light of the prohibition against setting up a standing stone ( ;מצבהDeut 16:22). Deut 16:21 prohibits planting an asherah or any tree next to an altar of Yhwh (cf. Gen 21:33; Ps 52:10; 92:13–15). On this, see further, D. Sperling, “Joshua 24 Reconsidered,” HUCA 58 (1987): 119–36 (132); S. M. Olyan, Asherah and the Cult of Yahweh in Israel (SBLMS 34; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988), 9. 87 That Josephus (along with MT Joshua) locates this exhortation in Shechem, rather than at Shiloh (so LXX Josh 24:1, 25), is important. This suggests that Josephus’ Joshua Vorlage was closer, at this point, to the MT than it was to the LXX. T he precise textual nature of Josephus’ Vorlage (neither identical to the MT nor to the LXX of Joshua) deserves systematic study. See Begg, “Cisjordanian Altar(s),” 207; idem, “Crossing of the Jordan,” 12, and more generally, Tov, Textual Criticism, 294–99, 314–16. 88 Joshua addresses the gathered nobles (Ant. 5.115–116), but the brief summation of his speech only partially interacts with Joshua’s two final addresses, filled with admonitions and warnings (Josh 23:2–16; 24:1–24). 89 Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4, xxii–iv, xxxii–xxxiv, 468.
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Josephus’ time, his careful redefinition of this period may be interpreted, at least in part, in the context of ancient Jewish-Samaritan debates about the Israelite heritage that they both claimed.90 In the time of Israel’s settlement and land distributions, the real cultic action occurred not in the area Samaritans held most dear, but elsewhere in Shiloh.
Conclusions The Samaritans were not a major topic of interest for Josephus, yet the scattered remarks he makes about them reveal a basic familiarity with their religious tenets.91 In the case of Joshua, we have seen that Josephus’ treatment of the early history of Israel in the land carefully engages a series of pentateuchal texts that were claimed by both Jews and Samaritans, but interpreted variously by their members. The matter may be put even more strongly. His history of early altars in the land cannot be properly understood, except against the background of ancient Jewish-Samaritan debates about how, when, and where Deuteronomy’s centralization legislation was to be implemented. With his rewrite of biblical altar laws and the Joshua narratives, Josephus renders the later Samari(t)an decision to build a sanctuary on Mt. Gerizim inexplicable, except as a violation of biblical law and ancient precedent. Nevertheless, it would be a mistake to drive a firm wedge between Josephus’ interpretation of early Israelite history and traditional Samaritan discourses. Of course, they differed on such fundamental issues as the chosen sanctuary and the place of Shiloh in ancient Israelite history. But there are other cases in which Josephus’ presuppositions, exegesis, and theological assertions do not differ radically from those of his Samaritan counterparts. In both cases, Deuteronomy has a constitutional status for Israelite life in the land. The laws of Deuteronomy (and those of the rest of the books of the Pentateuch) hold normative value for the conduct of Israelites in the land. Like his Samaritan counterparts, Josephus interprets the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal commands delivered by Moses as tantamount to their being delivered by God.92 Josephus holds some similar views about the nature of the central altar to those of the Samaritans. As can be seen in the Samaritan tenth commandment (SP Exod 20:13; Deut 5:17), Samaritans consider the altar constructed of unfin90
So also Feldman, Judean Antiquities 1–4, 59. These included the recognition that Samaritans regarded Mt. Gerizim as “the most holy of mountains” (Ant. 18.85). See also Josephus, B.J. 3.307–315; Vita 269. The relative lack of interest in the Samaritans in comparison with the depth and breadth of Josephus’ other interests is stressed by Pummer, Samaritans in Flavius Josephus, 62–66. 92 In MT, LXX, and SP Deut 27:1 Moses is accompanied by the Levites, but only Moses issues commands. 91
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ished stones to be normative for all Israelites.93 Like his Samaritan contemporaries, Josephus construes the mode of altar construction dictated in Deut 27:5 to be authoritative for the central altar’s construction at the place of God’s choosing. Even as Josephus is wont to stress that the sacrifices at Mt. Ebal were to be only a one-time event, never to be repeated, his exegesis of the cardinal text authorizing such sacrifices applied some of its injunctions more widely. In both cases, the mandate of Deut 27:5–7 relates to the centralization legislation. One set of laws is interpreted in light of another. Such cases of overlap between Josephus and traditional Samaritan hermeneutics caution against construing them as stark opposites. Judaism and Samaritanism were neither monolithic nor isolated wholes. Early Jewish and early Samaritan interpreters may have applied Deuteronomic legislation in distinctive ways, but their presuppositions, methods, and affirmations overlapped considerably. In his approach to understanding and applying pentateuchal law, Josephus may have been closer to the Samaritans of his time than he himself ever realized.
93
See the chapter on the Samaritan tenth commandment elsewhere in this volume.
Chapter Ten
The Altered Altar: Sacred Geography in Pseudo-Philo’s Biblical Antiquities The potted sacred story of Pseudo-Philo, Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum, dating perhaps to the same era as that of the Antiquitates Judaicae or a little earlier, presents a version of Israelite law and of Israel’s emergence in the land that differs from its biblical sources in many respects.1 Its treatment of pentateuchal statutes and Joshua is much condensed and quite selective, while its treatment of the chieftains period is, at points, freely expansive and unparalleled. The mode of rewriting found in the Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum has been compared with that found in biblical writings, such as Deuteronomy (with reference to the Covenant Code) and Chronicles (with reference to Samuel-Kings), and in non-biblical writings, such as Jubilees, the Genesis Apocryphon, the Temple Scroll, and Josephus’s Judean Antiquities.2 Like the aforementioned works, the Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum imitates, rearranges, abridges, modifies, and expands established literary works.3 Within the range of such writings – from 1 There is no broad agreement on the issue of dating. L. Cohn situates the work shortly after 70 CE, “An Apocryphal Work Ascribed to Philo of Alexandria,” JQR (old series) 10 (1898): 277–332 (326–27), while M. R. James dates the work to the final decade of the first century CE, The Biblical Antiquities of Philo (London: SPCK, 1917), 29–33. Similarly, G. K isch, Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum (Publications in Mediaeval Studies 10; Notre Dame, IN: The University of Notre Dame, 1949), 15–18. The large-scale studies of H. Jacobson date the Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum to a later time, approximately 70–150 CE, A Commentary on Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum (2 vols.; AGJU 30–31; Leiden: Brill, 1996), 199–210 (209); idem, “Pseudo-Philo, Book of Antiquities,” in Outside the Bible: Ancient Jewish Writings related to Scripture (3 vols.; ed. L. H. Feldman, J. L. Kugel, and L. H. Schiffman; Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 2013), 1.470–613 (470). Other analyses date the work to the first century CE, before the First Jewish War and the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple, P.-M. Bogaert, “La datation du livre,” in Pseudo-Philon: Antiquités bibliques (ed. C. Parrot and P.-M. Bogaert; SC 230; Paris: Cerf, 1976), 66–74; D. J. Harrington, “Pseudo Philo,” in Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (2 vols.; ed. J. H. Charlesworth; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1985), 2.297–377 (299); idem, “Pseudo Philo, Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum,” in Outside the Old Testament (ed. M. de Jong; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985), 5–25 (8); F. J. Murphy, Pseudo-Philo: Rewriting the Bible (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), 3. That the work survives as a Latin translation of a Greek translation of a Hebrew original complicates attempts to date this work with any degree of precision. See D. J. Harrington, “The Biblical Text of Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum,” CBQ 33 (1971): 1–17; Jacobson, Commentary, 257–80. 2 Jacobson provides a helpful overview with further references, Commentary, 211–13. 3 The complex topic of rewritten scripture has received much attention in recent decades.
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conservative to free in their handling of traditional materials – Pseudo-Philo’s composition belongs to the latter end of the spectrum. The Biblical Antiquities substantially overwrites, reworks, and contradicts its biblical sources. The literary work begins with genealogies drawn from Genesis (LAB 1) and ends with the death of Saul (LAB 65).4 When analyzing the ideology of the Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum, some have typed the work as anti-schismatic (and anti-Samaritan) polemic, but such a claim is reductive.5 The time and effort taken to discuss the Decalogue (LAB See the recent study of M. M. Zahn, Rethinking Rewritten Scripture (STDJ 95; Leiden: Brill, 2011), and the references listed there. The art of creating new compositions from older compositions by selecting from, rearranging, overwriting, correcting, and supplementing these earlier writings may be compared with the well-attested phenomenon of mimesis (or imitatio) in the Classical world, J. Van Seters, “Creative Imitation in the Hebrew Bible,” SR 29 (2000): 395–409; G. N. K noppers, “The Synoptic Problem? An Old Testament Perspective,” BBR 19 (2009): 11–34. 4 Disagreeing with the views of number of previous scholars, L. H. Feldman argues that the Biblical Antiquities evinces no generic, structural similarity with Chronicles, “Prolegomenon,” in The Biblical Antiquities of Philo (ed. M. R. James; New York: Ktav, 1971), vii–clxix (xxxii). There are certainly a number of important dissimilarities between the two works. One (The Biblical Antiquities) is generously populated with legendary material and allocates great space to the chieftains period, while the other (Chronicles) largely eschews legendary material and neglects the chieftains period. Nevertheless, it seems difficult to deny any relationship between the two literary works whatsoever. Both intersperse narrative details within larger genealogical contexts. The genealogical prologue to the biblical work (1 Chronicles 1–9), like the Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum, begins with genealogies drawn from Genesis and ends with the genealogies of Saul’s family (1 Chr 9:35–44). The Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum begins with genealogies of Adam and ends with the death of Saul (LAB 65). While the narrative portion of Chronicles begins with the story of Saul’s death (1 Chr 10:1–14), the narratives of the Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum end with Saul’s death. Both the Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum and Chronicles are very discriminating in what they borrow from earlier writings and both include numerous corrections of and additions to claims made in the works from which they borrow. In the view of some, Pseudo-Philo composed his work as a Chronicles-like version of early Israelite history. See, e.g., A. Spiro, “Samaritans, Tobiads, and Judahites in Pseudo-Philo,” PAAJR 20 (1951): 279–355 (303–10); J. Strugnell, “Philo (Pseudo-), Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum,” EncJud 16 (2007): 58–59. The differences between the two works preclude such a large generalization, but it may be said that the Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum provides what the genealogical introduction in Chronicles does not provide, namely a didactic narrative extending from early times to the first Israelite king (Saul), albeit with some attention paid to the rise of David (LAB 59–63). On the complex position of Saul in the Chronistic work, see G. N. K noppers, I Chronicles 1–9 (AB 12; New York: Doubleday/ New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004), 245–65; idem, “Israel’s First King and ‘the Kingdom of Yhwh in the Hands of the Sons of David’: The Place of the Saulide Monarchy in the Chronicler’s Historiography,” in Saul in History and Tradition (ed. C. S. Ehrlich and M. W hite; FAT 47; Tübingen 47: Mohr Siebeck, 2006), 187–213. 5 For this view expounded in considerable detail, see Spiro, “Samaritans,” 311–16. On anti-Samaritan attitudes in several texts from first century Palestinian Judaism, see Feldman, “Prolegomenon,” xxxiv–xxxvi; P. van der Horst, “Anti-Samaritan Propaganda in Early Judaism,” in Jews and Christians in Their Graeco-Roman Context (WUNT 196; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006), 134–50. R. P ummer offers some qualifications, “Antisamaritanische Polemik in jüdischen Schriften aus der intertestamentarischen Zeit,” BZ 26 (1982): 224–42.
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11.1–13), the tent of meeting, the festivals (LAB 13.1–10), and so forth, would be pointless if the author had only a negative purpose in mind. It also seems evident that the Hebrew scriptures posed a series of exegetical challenges for Pseudo-Philo, as they did for other early interpreters. One reason for reworking ancient Israel’s lore was to address questions, inconsistencies, and puzzling elements within that literature. Hence, it seems unlikely that Pseudo-Philo created his work simply to combat dissident groups, such as the Samaritans. By the same token, to read Pseudo-Philo’s version of early Israelite history without any awareness of how that era was defined differently within early Jewish and Samaritan circles is to neglect a critical aspect of Joshua’s reception history. Since the story of Israel’s establishment in the land was also a story of how Israel’s normative cultic institutions developed in the history of the Israelite people, a narrative with which both Jews and Samaritans identified, the details of that narrative mattered to both groups. This is true, even though only the Jews came to incorporate the book of Joshua into their sacred canon.6 Granted the importance of the past to the ancients and the history of deteriorating Samaritan-Jewish relations in the last two centuries BCE, especially in Maccabean times, it is readily understandable that Pseudo-Philo revisits the sacred geography of ancient Israel in his Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum.7 This essay will argue that the configuration of the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal biblical texts is a significant component in Pseudo-Philo’s presentation of early Israel. The argument is not predicated simply on the amount of overt attention Pseudo-Philo gives to the Shechem area, which is tellingly very little, but more 6 The history of the book of Joshua (or a version thereof) in Samaritan tradition is a complex subject. A. D. Crown provides an analysis of the basic issues, “The Date and Authenticity of the Samaritan Hebrew Book of Joshua as Seen in Its Territorial Allotments,” PEQ 96 (1974): 79–100; idem, “Was there a Samaritan Book of Joshua?” in Ancient History in a Modern University: Proceedings of a Conference held at Macquarie University, 8–13 July, 1993: 2, Early Christianity, Late Antiquity and Beyond (ed. T. W. Hillard et al.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 15–22. On the retelling of the Joshua story in the medieval (and later) Samaritan chronicles, see A. D. Crown, “Samaritan Literature and Its Manuscripts,” BJRL 76 (1994): 21–49; P. L. Stenhouse, “Samaritan Chronicles,” in The Samaritans (ed. A. D. Crown; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1989), 218–65; I. Hjelm, The Samaritans and Early Judaism (JSOTSup 303; Copenhagen International Seminar 7; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000), 97–103; R. P ummer, The Samaritans: A Profile (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), 241–49. See also the chapter “Samaritan Conceptions of Jewish Origins and Jewish Conceptions of Samaritan Origins: Any Common Ground?” elsewhere in this volume. 7 On the tensions, especially in the Maccabean and post-Maccabean periods, see H. G. K ippenberg, Garizim und Synagoge (RVV 30; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1971), 85–113; R. G. Coggins, Samaritans and Jews (Atlanta: John Knox, 1975), 82–93; R. Hanhart, “Zu den ältesten Traditionen über das Samaritanische Schisma,” ErIsr 16 (1982): 106–15; A. D. Crown, “Redating the Schism between the Judaeans and the Samaritans,” JQR 82 (1991): 17–50; Kartveit, Origin of the Samaritans, 203–309; Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 169–239; E. Regev, The Hasmoneans: Ideology, Archaeology, Identity ( JAJSup 10; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013), 69–71; J. Bourgel, “The Destruction of the Samaritan Temple by John Hyrcanus: A Reconsideration,” JBL 135 (2016): 499–517.
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so on his discriminating reuse of select laws and his application of these statutes in his radical reimagining of the Joshua story. Pseudo-Philo overwrites the cultic history of Joshua, manifesting some clear notions of what the Mt. Gerizim/ Mt. Ebal area of northern Israel contributed and did not contribute to ancient Israel’s historic legacy. These claims are tied, in turn, to his definition of orthopraxis in the Sinaitic era and how that orthopraxis was instantiated in the form of highly unified Israelite worship at the completion of the land distributions during Joshua’s tenure. The brief analysis of Pseudo-Philo’s treatment of pentateuchal altar laws with which this essay begins will document how Pseudo-Philo’s distillation of tabernacle legislation forms a basis for his selective allusions to other pieces of altar legislation, which he does not overtly discuss. His work borrows from the Covenant Code, the Deuteronomic centralization legislation, and the Mt. Gerizim/ Mt. Ebal altar legislation, but applies their contents to the tent of meeting, construing this composite cultus as a pre-temple form of unified Yahwistic worship. The author selectively rehearses, restructures, supplements, and corrects his Vorlage of Joshua to demonstrate how Joshua dutifully arranged for a succession of cultic centers in the land. Pseudo-Philo’s reconfiguration of early Israel’s sacred geography is significantly more radical than that of Josephus. Like Josephus, Pseudo-Philo portrays Gilgal as the site of Israel’s first altar in the land. Gilgal, not Shechem, enjoys this privilege (cf. Gen 12:6–8; 33:18–20). Yet, unlike Josephus, Pseudo-Philo positions the presence of the tent of meeting at Gilgal and postpones Gilgal’s investiture until both the conquest and the land allotments are complete.8 Gilgal becomes not the home of a one-time altar, as in Josephus’s Antiquities, but rather the home of a full-fledged sacrificial cult, consisting of the ark, an altar built of stones untouched by iron, and the tent of meeting (LAB 21.7– 10). The tabernacle absorbs, therefore, a critical feature of the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal legislation, which Pseudo-Philo does not discuss in his selective overview of pentateuchal law. The celebrations at the tent of meeting stationed at Gilgal stand out as a highpoint in the story of Israel’s emergence in the land. In the Biblical Antiquities, Gilgal enjoys a virtually unrivalled status in Israel’s national life until Joshua initiates a new sacrificial cultus at Shiloh. By comparison, the public liturgy the Israelites observe at Mt. Ebal is sharply limited in scope, consisting of no more than a written inscription and oral recitation of the law by Joshua to the people. Mt. Ebal becomes indelibly associated with the rule of the Torah over the land, but Mt. Gerizim, the holy mountain of Samaritan lore, goes unmentioned in Pseudo-Philo’s exposition. There is, more8 In referring to the work of Josephus, my study does not assume that Pseudo-Philo knew any of Josephus’s writings (or vice versa). The comparisons are designed to draw attention to the distinctive features of each composition.
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over, neither an altar nor sacrifices upon Mt. Ebal. To the contrary, there is only one altar for all Israelites – the Covenant Code/Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal style of altar constructed of unworked stones situated at the tent of meeting. The only challenge to the status quo comes, as we shall see, courtesy of the Transjordanian tribes, who unexpectedly break rank and decide to build their own sacrificial installation and appoint their own priests. The ill-considered rebellion is short-lived, but the manner in which Joshua responds to the erection of the Transjordanian sacrificial altar provides critical clues about how Pseudo-Philo construes the actions of dissident groups. In this typology, Shiloh becomes the official successor to Gilgal, much like Jerusalem will eventually become the official successor to Shiloh in an authorized chain of sacred precincts designated for centralized sacrifice (LAB 21.10; 22.9). The essay concludes with some reflections about how Pseudo-Philo’s bold restructuring of the Joshua narrative contributes to Judean-Samaritan debates about how the tabernacle statutes, centralization mandate, and Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal altar legislation apply to Israel’s existence in the land.
I. The Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum and the Pentateuchal Altar Laws Of particular interest to this study is Pseudo-Philo’s substantial abridgement of pentateuchal laws. Unlike Josephus’s Judean Antiquities, the Biblical Antiquities provides only a short and discriminating treatment of the Sinaitic era (LAB 11–19), highlighting the Ten Commandments (LAB 11–19), the sin of the Golden Calf (LAB 12.1–10), the regulations for the tent of meeting and Israel’s festivals (LAB 13.1–10), and select stories from Numbers and Deuteronomy (LAB 14–19). Missing from this highly selective survey is an engagement with the teachings of Leviticus, a discussion of the Shemaʿ (Deut 6:4ff.), and any treatment of three out of the total four laws regulating altars for animal sacrifice (Exod 20:24–26; Deut 11:31–12:31; 27:2–8). Like Josephus, Pseudo-Philo does not take up the Covenant Code altar laws (Exod 20:24–26). This means, among other things, that he does not have to deal with the legislative warrant for multiple altars that one finds in the Covenant Code and the major revision of those laws that one finds in the centralization legislation (Deut 11:31–12:31). Pseudo-Philo’s overview of biblical law, for that matter, does not overtly mention the centralization laws, but his narratives presuppose their validity. Similarly, his discussion of pentateuchal statutes does not include any mention of the Shechem area (MT Mt. Ebal; SP Mt. Gerizim) altar statutes, but his sophisticated restructuring of the Joshua story presupposes that particular stipulations within these laws enjoy statutory force for Israelite life in the land.
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While Pseudo-Philo’s neglect of Leviticus and most of Numbers has been often taken as indicating a profound lack of interest in cultic affairs, this claim needs to be qualified in one important respect. Pseudo-Philo’s treatment of biblical law is highly selective, but shows signs of careful deliberation. What he chooses to retain and rewrite from his sources bears on his creative portrayal of life in the land. For example, his work evinces a sustained interest in cultic unity.9 Pseudo-Philo’s interpretation of the Pentateuch subtly fuses the call for the unification of Yahwistic worship within Deuteronomy’s centralization legislation (which he does not discuss) with the (Priestly) mandate for a tent of meeting (which he does discuss). Or to put matters differently, Pseudo-Philo interprets Deuteronomy in light of the earlier sanctuary (tabernacle) legislation found in (MT) Exodus (25:1–31:17; 35:1–40:38).10 The summaries of the tabernacle provisions, prefacing (LAB 11.15) the Golden Calf catastrophe (LAB 12.1–10) and following it (LAB 13.1–10), are significant, because Pseudo-Philo follows Priestly precedent (Exod 25:8) in viewing the tent of meeting as actualizing God’s gracious promise to maintain a presence among his people: “Make me a sanctuary and the tabernacle of my glory will be among you” (Facite mihi sanctificationem et erit tabernaculum glorie mee in vobis; LAB 11.15).11 The tent of meeting features prominently as a visible sign of Israel’s unity, as we shall see, at pivotal moments in the story of Israel’s emergence in the land. Among the tabernacle components mentioned are the altar of burnt offerings and the altar of incense (thuribulum holocaustomatum et thuribulum incensorum; LAB 13.1).12 9 The comments about Priestly and Levitical rites at Gilgal (LAB 21.7–9), the future site of the temple (LAB 21.10), and the transgressive altar constructed by the two and a half tribes (LAB 22), manifest the importance of cultic observances for the author, Spiro, “Samaritans,” 332–33; C. Perrot, “La pensé théologique,” in Pseudo-Philon: Antiquités bibliques (ed. C. Parrot and P.-M. Bogaert; SC 230; Paris: Cerf, 1976), 39–43; Murphy, Pseudo-Philo, 104–5. 10 The LXX account of Exod 35:1–40:33 lacks certain elements found in the MT, sometimes follows a variant order from that of the MT, and is generally shorter than the MT. See J. W. Wever, Notes on the Greek Text of Exodus (SBLSCS 30; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990); C. Houtman, Exodus (4 vols.; HCOT; Kampen: Kok, 1993–2002), 3.314–16. W. H. C. Propp’s commentary includes a helpful list of the divergences between the two accounts: Exodus 19– 40 (AB 2A; New York: Doubleday, 2006), 631–36. B. E. Bruning provides a critical reconstruction of literary growth within the LXX and MT tabernacle accounts, The Making of the Mishkan: The Old Greek Text of Exodus 35–40 and the Literary History of the Pentateuch (Ph.D. diss., University of Notre Dame, 2014). 11 Jacobson, Commentary, 481–82. In Exod 25:8, the MT ( )ועשו לי מקדש ושכנתי בתוכםreads a little differently, “They will make me a sanctuary and I shall dwell in your midst.” The SP vocalizes the same consonants as an initial pl. imperative, ועשו לי מקדש ושכנתי בתוכם, “Make me a sanctuary and I shall dwell in your midst,” while the LXX reads an initial 2nd masc. sg. fut. act. indicative, καὶ ποιήσεις μοι ἁγίασμα, καὶ ὀφθήσομαι ἐν ὑμῖν, “You will make me a sanctuary and I shall be seen among you.” 12 Murphy (Pseudo-Philo, 321) reads tabernaculum in LAB 13.1, rather than tabulas, “tables.” The proposal of James (Biblical Antiquities of Philo, 113), followed by Jacobson (Commentary, 505), of a haplography (homoioarkton) makes more sense, hence tabulas et tabernac-
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That the author only mentions one structure designed for animal sacrifice in his summation of Pentateuchal laws and leaves, at least for the moment, the nature of this altar undefined (bronze, stone, or another material) serves a strategic purpose. From the Sinaitic era onward, there is only one official altar for burnt offerings. The divinely authorized Israelite cultus in biblical law and early Israelite life is, for all intents and purposes, centered on the tent of meeting. By speaking of a single altar of burnt offerings at the tent of meeting (LAB 13.1, 2), without specifying the bronze nature of that altar (Exod 27:1–8) Pseudo-Philo is able to substitute, as we shall see, the stone altar specified in the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal instructions (Deut 27:5–7) for the tabernacle altar without ever dealing directly either with the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal instructions or the many differences between these instructions and the tabernacle instructions.
II. From Conquest and Land Distributions to Communal Sacrifice at Gilgal In the Biblical Antiquities, Joshua begins plans for Jericho’s conquest (LAB 20.3–7; cf. Josh 6:1–5) following his appointment and instruction by the deity (LAB 20.1–2; cf. Josh 1:1–9). There is no crossing of the Jordan explicitly mentioned, although the literary progression of the work presumes Israel’s successful entrance into the land (LAB 15.1–7; 19.1–7, 10; 20.1–3; 21.9) and the deity, cited in one of Joshua’s speeches, alludes to the same (LAB 23.11). Nor is there a ceremony (or ceremonies) involving the twelve stones drawn from the bed of the River Jordan (Josh 4:1–20). The mass circumcision and national Passover go unmentioned (cf. Josh 5:2–12). The literary work summarily speaks of other critical developments. These include the destruction of Jericho (LAB 20.6–7; cf. Josh 6:6–27), the defeat of thirty-nine enemy kings (LAB 20.9; cf. Josh 10:1– 12:24), the division of the land to the various tribes by lot (LAB 20.9; cf. Josh 15:1–19:51), and the distribution of an inheritance to Caleb’s son Cenez (LAB 20.10; cf. Josh 14:6–14).13 That the two major complications during the conquest – the sin of Achan (Josh 7:1–26) and the Gibeonite ruse (Josh 9:1–27) – are not recounted means that the highly abridged story of Israel’s emergence in the land is uniformly positive.14 ulum. On thuribulum reflecting θυμιατήριον, which may reflect, in turn, מזבח, see Jacobson, Commentary, 505–6. 13 In the Biblical Antiquities, Judahite Kenez (mentioned instead of his son Othniel; Judg 3:9–11) becomes the most discussed and celebrated of all the Israelite chieftains (LAB 25–38). 14 The work shows an awareness of certain incidents depicted in biblical lore, such as the sin of Achan – mentioned in one of Joshua’s speeches (LAB 21.3) and again in the Kenaz narrative (LAB 25.7) – but the work does not include the actual Achan story. For examples of Pseudo-Philo’s scriptural allusions in other contexts, see James, Biblical Antiquities, 42–59; Jacobson, Commentary, 254–57.
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Having quickly portrayed Israel’s conquests and land distributions, the work pauses to discuss divine instructions to Joshua (LAB 21.1; cf. Josh 13:2–6) and Joshua’s prayer, as an elderly man, about Israel’s future (LAB 21.2–6).15 Following the conclusion to his prayer, Joshua travels down to Gilgal (descendit Ihesus in Galgala) and builds a stone altar there (LAB 21.7). The construction of a sacrificial installation occurs, therefore, rather late in the story. Of the various parts of the Joshua narrative, Pseudo-Philo is most interested in the period after which the Israelite tribes are fully settled in the land.16 Action
Joshua
LAB
Divine Appointment and Instruction
1:1–9
20.1–2
Crossing of the Jordan
3:1–17
—
Twelve-Stone Ceremony at Gilgal
4:1–20
—
Mass Circumcision and Passover
5:2–12
—
Conquest of Jericho
6:1–27
20.3–7
Achan’s Sin
7:1–26
—
Conquest of Ai
8:1–29
21.3
Ceremony at Mt. Ebal
8:30–35
21.7
Gibeonite Deception
9:3–27
—
Defeat of Enemy Kings
10:1–12:24
20.9
Divine Address to Joshua
13:1–6
21.1
Inheritance of Caleb (Cenez)
14:6–14
20.10
Tribal Land Allotments
15:1–19:51
20.9
Joshua’s Speech about the Future
23:2–16
21.2–6
Descent to Gilgal to Build an Altar
—
21.7
Pseudo-Philo does not identify precisely where Joshua was, when he embarked on his trip to Gilgal. Taking into account the geography of the southern Levant, one may infer that the mention of Joshua’s descent down to Gilgal presumes that Joshua was somewhere within the central hill country, when he invested the new sacrificial cultus. In biblical lore, Israelites ascend ( )עלהfrom Gilgal, when they launch campaigns into the land (Josh 10:7, 9).17 Conversely, Israelites residing in the hill country descend ()ירד, when they travel to events at Gilgal (1 Sam 15 Not so much a public speech (cf. Josh 23:2–16) as a reflective prayer offered by Joshua to God. 16 C. T. Begg, “The Ceremonies at Gilgal/Ebal according to Pseudo-Philo,” ETL 73 (1997): 72–84. 17 Similarly, the messenger of Yhwh ascends from Gilgal to Bochim (Judg 2:1).
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10:8).18 In the Biblical Antiquities, the founding of an Israelite sacrificial apparatus occurs, therefore, at a later point in the story than in Josephus’s Judean Antiquities.19 Pseudo-Philo does not address whether, where, or how Israel parti cipated in sacrificial worship before this time.20 At first glance, the reorganization of the altar story seems puzzling. Why does Pseudo-Philo delay the pan-Israelite cultic festivities until after the conquest is complete and the territorial distributions have been implemented? One factor informing the claim that Joshua inaugurated the Gilgal altar fairly late in his life is Pseudo-Philo’s particular interpretation of Deuteronomy’s centralization legislation (Deut 11:31–12:31) and its application to Israel’s early existence within the land.21 In Deuteronomy, Israel is commanded to begin bringing everything – burnt offerings, tithes, and contributions – to the place of God’s choosing after Israel crosses the Jordan River, takes residence in the territory Yhwh causes them to inherit ()מנחיל, and Yhwh grants them rest ( )הניחfrom all of their enemies surrounding them ( )מכל־איביכם מסביבso that Israel resides securely ( )וישבתם־בטחin the land (Deut 12:10–11).22 From Pseudo-Philo’s point of view, it may be surmised, such conditions were only satisfied after the Israelites were established within their tribal territories.23 Pseudo-Philo evidently interprets 18 To complicate matters, it is unclear whether the Gilgal mentioned in Pseudo-Philo’s work is the Gilgal of the Jordan Valley (see below). 19 That the pan-Israelite ceremonies did not occur until after the land distributions appears as one view among others listed in rabbinic sources (t. Sot ah 8:7). 20 “How and whence the tabernacle came to Gilgal, ps-Philo ˙ does not tell us” (Spiro, “Samaritans,” 344). 21 The comment about Joshua’s advancing age evidently has the notice in Josh 23:1 in view, rather than the earlier notice in Josh 13:1. The old age formulae in Josh 13:1 and 23:1 represent a case of resumptive repetition allowing for the insertion of a massive amount of intervening material. For more on the texts in question, see R. D. Nelson, Joshua: A Commentary (OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997), 164; H. N. Rösel, Von Josua bis Jojachin: Untersuchung zu den deuteronomistichen Geschichtsbüchern des Alten Testaments (VTSup 75; Leiden: Brill, 1999), 66–67; idem, Joshua, 207–8; T. C. Römer, The So-Called Deuteronomistic History: A Sociological, Historical and Literary Introduction (London: T. & T. Clark, 2005) 5, 82–83. 22 SP Deut 12:11 speaks of the divine injunction to bring “your contributions, your freewill offerings, and all of your choice votive offerings” ()ונדבתיכם ותרמתיכם וכל מבחר נדריכם. In contrast, the MT speaks of “the contribution of your hands and all of your choice votive offerings” ()ותרמת ידכם וכל מבחר נדריכם. In this case, the lemma of the SP could be earlier, ונדבתיכם having been lost by haplography (homoioarkton) after either ותרמת ידכםor ( ותרמתיכםcf. Deut 12:6). More generally, see S. R. Driver, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Deuteronomy (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1895), 141–44; E. Nielsen, Deuteronomium (HAT I/6; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1995), 131–41; J. H. Tigay, Deuteronomy (JPS Torah Commentary; Philadelphia: JPS, 1996), 121–23. 23 Pseudo-Philo’s repositioning of pan-Israelites celebrations within his larger narrative may have been influenced by the comprehensive completion formulae in Josh 21:43–45, which are situated after the land allocations, “And Yhwh gave to Israel all of the land, which he swore to give to their ancestors and they possessed it and resided within it. And Yhwh granted rest to them all around, according to all that he swore to their ancestors. Not a man stood
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the timing of implementing centralized worship commanded in Deuteronomy as being tied to the Israelites not only enjoying rest from all of their enemies, but also residing securely in the land ( ; וישבתם בטחDeut 12:10), that is, within their own individual territorial allotments (LAB 20.9–10). The implication is that the Israelites were initially loyal to the principle of centralization, well before the Jerusalem temple had been built.24 Although written with the mandate for centralized sacrifice in view, the portrayal of Joshua’s investiture of Gilgal draws upon specific demands of the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal altar legislation (Deut 27:5–7). At Gilgal Joshua employs hefty stones (lapidibus fortissimis) upon which no iron (tools) had been wielded (non intulit in eos ferrum) to construct an altar (LAB 21.7; cf. Deut 27:5–6; MT Josh 8:31; LXX 9:2b).25 The use of the fulfillment formula, “as Moses commanded” (sicuti preceperat Moyses; LAB 21.7), signals Joshua’s careful observance of Deuteronomy’s directives (MT Josh 8:31; LXX 9:2b).26 Paradoxically, Pseudo-Philo associates that careful compliance with the establishment of an altar at Gilgal, rather than at Mt. Gerizim or at Mt. Ebal, as Deuteronomy stipulates (MT 27:4 Mt. Ebal; SP 27:4 Mt. Gerizim), and as Joshua narrates (Mt. Ebal; MT before them from all of their enemies; all of their enemies Yhwh delivered into their hand. Not a promise went unfulfilled from every good promise, which Yhwh promised the house of Israel. All of it came (true).” The key is not simply conditions of peace and possession of the land, but also residency within it. Hence, both Josephus, with reference to the earlier completion formulae in Josh 11:23 (see the previous chapter in this volume) and Pseudo-Philo may have drawn from different conquest completion formulae embedded within the Joshua narratives to develop their distinctive presentations of when the Israelites held commemorative ceremonies to mark the gift of the land, the public recitation of the Torah, and the implementation of unified worship. 24 The books of Joshua, Judges, and Samuel-Kings present a complicated picture of Yahwistic worship in the land and a long delay between the delivery of the mandate for unity of worship and its eventual enactment centuries later in the time of Solomon. For Pseudo-Philo and a number of other early interpreters, the approach taken in the Former Prophets would pose a number of challenges, because it leaves an extensive interval between the mandate for centralization and its implementation. Given the timing inherent to the legislation mandating cultic unity (especially Deut 12:10–12) and cultic purity, it would be irreligious of the Israelites not to strive for the unification of worship, after they become peacefully settled in the land. Moreover, if the tent of meeting was commanded by the deity to be a constituent feature of Israel’s early national life, should not the Israelites consistently have resorted to employing this portable sanctuary, when they entered the land? A similar set of questions arising from the stories of Joshua seems to be presupposed in 4QJosh 522 (frag. 9 ii 2–11). There, the deception of Joshua by the Canaanites (= Gibeonites) is sufficiently grave to disqualify him from building the central sanctuary. 25 MT Deut 27:6 stipulates “whole stones” ()אבנים שלמות, while LXX Deut 27:6 similarly has λίθους ὁλοκλήρους. The Latin lapidibus fortissimos is often translated as “large stones” or as “very large stones,” but fortissimos denotes heft or weight, rather than size. It is possible that this stands as an example of how Pseudo-Philo’s text was occasionally garbled in translation (from Hebrew to Greek to Latin). 26 That no iron was used to shape the stones signals that the author has Deut 27:5 in mind, rather than its source in the Covenant Code (Exod 20:24–26). The Covenant Code altar law (Exod 20:25) prohibits the use of hewn stones, but does not specifically mention iron.
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Josh 8:30; LXX 9:2a).27 In fact, Mt. Gerizim is not mentioned even once in Pseudo-Philo’s account of Israel’s emergence in the land. It could be that the omission is accidental, because Pseudo-Philo does not present any responsive recitation of blessings and curses.28 But Pseudo-Philo carefully presents other elements of Deuteronomy’s legislation as being diligently fulfilled, including the pronouncement of a blessing upon the people in Gilgal (LAB 21.10; cf. Josh 8:33), and so the complete neglect of Mt. Gerizim, a site which appears repeatedly in Pseudo-Philo’s sources (Deut 11:29; 27:4 [SP; Mt. Ebal MT], 11; Josh 8:33 [MT]; 9:2d [LXX]; Judg 9:7 [cf. LAB 37.2–5]) occasions surprise.29 In construing Joshua’s altar as a central altar, Pseudo-Philo’s presentation ironically comports with early Samaritan interpretation.30 In traditional Samaritan tradition, the legislation of Deut 27:2–8 relates to the central altar demanded (and repeatedly alluded to) in Deut 12:2–31.31 To distinguish between a central altar and a Mt. Gerizim altar is to make a distinction without a difference.32 Both refer to the same thing. Even though Pseudo-Philo’s chronicle of sacred history upholds Gilgal, rather than Mt. Gerizim or Mt. Ebal, as the first site of a pan-Israelite sacrificial altar in the land, some of the underlying exegetical assumptions governing his interpretation of Deuteronomy correspond with the underlying exegetical assumptions governing contemporary Samaritan interpretations of Deuteronomy.
III. From Gilgal to Ebal and Back Again Pseudo-Philo discusses another ceremony immediately after mentioning Joshua’s establishment of the Gilgal altar, a public ceremony at Mt. Ebal. Joshua sets up very large stones (lapides magnos) on Mt. Ebal (in monte Gebal), whitens 27 That Joshua alone is mentioned with no reference either to the Israelites or to the priests and Levites comports with the presentation of Josh 8:30–32 (LXX 9:2a–c). The Israelites do not come into the picture until the ark ceremony and the recitation of the written Torah occur (MT Josh 8:33–35; LXX 9:2d–f). 28 So Jacobson, Commentary, 689. Yet, if Joshua recited all the words of the law (broadly construed), one would think that those words would include the blessings and the curses (Deut 11:29–30; 27:11–13, 14–26; 28:1–68). 29 Pseudo-Philo speaks of Abram entering the land and residing in Canaan (LAB 8.1), but he neither mentions that his first stop was in Shechem (Gen 12:6) nor that he built an altar there (Gen 12:7). Shechem appears for the first time, when Pseudo-Philo refers to Levi and Simeon avenging the rape of their sister Dinah (Gen 34:1–30). These two sons of Jacob killed Shechem’s entire population and rescued their sister (LAB 8.7). 30 And in each case, the main altar for sacrificial offerings is composed of uncut stones (Exod 20:25–26; Deut 27:5–7; Josephus, B.J. 5.225; Ant. 4.200–201; 12:318; Philo, Spec. leg. 1.51.274; m. Mid. 3.4). 31 Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 194–216. 32 In the SP, the Covenant Code altar, the central altar, and the Mt. Gerizim altar ultimately refer to the same thing, Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 207–11.
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them (dealbavit eos), and plainly inscribes the words of the law upon them (scripsit super eos verba legis manifesta valde; LAB 21.7).33 Clearly written with the demands of Deut 27:2–4, and 8 in mind, the narrative partially corrects the fulfillment of those demands as presented in Josh 8:32 (LXX 9:2b–c).34 In conformity with the demands of Deut 27:2–3, 8, Joshua inscribes the large assembly stones, not the altar stones (as in Joshua).35 At Mt. Ebal in northern Israel, all of the people hear the recitation of the Torah and come under its rule. The clear inscription of the law upon the large plastered stones visibly memorializes this fact. That is, however, the extent of the ceremonies on Mt. Ebal in the Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum. No mention is made of Joshua constructing an altar there for Yhwh (MT Josh 8:30; LXX 9:2a). There are neither burnt offerings nor sacrifices of well-being (Josh 8:31; LXX 9:2b). There is no alignment of elders, officials, and judges standing on both sides of the ark before the Levitical priests (MT Josh 8:33; LXX 9:2d).36 Nor is there mention made of half of the Israelites facing Mt. Gerizim and the other half facing Mt. Ebal for the blessing of the people of Israel, “as Moses the servant of Yhwh had commanded at the first” (MT Josh 8:33; LXX 9:2d). The non-inclusions in Pseudo-Philo’s account are, therefore, as telling as his inclusions. Having mentioned the trek up to Mt. Ebal, the author turns his attention again to the sacrificial apparatus Joshua founded at Gilgal. The assertion that “he [Joshua] came down with them” (descendens cum eis), that is, with the Israelites, and presented peace offerings upon the altar (LAB 21.8) indicates a descent from Mt. Ebal down to another location. The succession of events – the descent to Gilgal to establish an altar there (LAB 21.7), the gathering at Mt. Ebal to inscribe and recite the Torah (LAB 21.7), and the descent by Joshua and the people to lift up peace offerings on the altar (LAB 21.8) – lends credibility to the view that the particular Gilgal imagined in this text is situated somewhere in the central hill country, rather than all the way down in the Jordan Rift.37 33 In this, LAB 21.7 follows Josh 8:34–35. In Deuteronomy 27, there is no command to read the entire Torah, only to pronounce the blessing and the curse (vv. 11–13) and to affirm the execrations pronounced by the Levites (vv. 14–26). On the influence of Deut 31:9 on the Joshua account, see van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, 504. 34 The account of Josh 8:30–32 does not mention the commands to plaster the large stones (Deut 27:4, 8). 35 Some of the phraseology resembles that of Deuteronomy 27 more than it does to the fulfillment of those statutes in Josh 8:30–35, Jacobson, Commentary, 229; Begg, “Ceremonies,” 75–77. 36 So the MT (lectio difficilior). The LXX (Josh 9:2d) has the expected “the priests and Levites” (οἱ ἱερεῖς καὶ οἱ Λευῖται). 37 C. Perrot and P.-M. Bogaert, with D. J. Harrington, “Commentaire,” in Les Antiquités bibliques: Pseudo-Philon (SC 230; Paris: Cerf, 1976), 140; Murphy, Pseudo-Philo, 103; Begg, “Ceremonies,” 76. On the various candidates for the location of Gilgal in the central hill country, see Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 200–1.
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There are, however, difficulties in knowing absolutely for certain. Pseudo-Philo neither provides specific geographical markers nor offers a precise chronology.38 Mt. Ebal is one of the highest peaks, if not the highest peak, in the central hill country and so traveling from the summit of that mountain ridge would necessarily involve a descent, even if it involved traveling to another location in the interior heartland.39 Nevertheless, a location in the central hill country makes the most sense, if one considers that the people march down to Gilgal, travel forthwith to Mt. Ebal and then descend back down again to Gilgal. Such a scenario presumes that the sites lie at some proximity to one another. Of the two sites, Gilgal clearly enjoys pride of place and a substantial allocation of coverage, including the portrayal of various public liturgies. Pseudo-Philo’s discussion of the Gilgal festivities includes the involvement of the priests, Levites, and people in the proceedings (LAB 21.8–10). Hence, the Biblical Antiquities employs notices about Joshua’s building an altar at Gilgal and offering sacrifices there to bracket notices about publicly enacting the written and oral word at Mt. Ebal. Action
Source
A Joshua Descends to Gilgal to Build an Altar of Stones
LAB 21.7
B Joshua’s Plastering of and Writing upon Large Stones on Mt. Ebal
LAB 21.7
B1 Gathering the People and Reciting the Torah on Mt. Ebal
LAB 21.7
A Joshua and the People Descend to Gilgal to Sacrifice at the Gilgal Altar LAB 21.8–10 1
The specific mention of Joshua’s building an altar with hefty stones and presenting “peace offerings” (sacrificia pacifica) at Gilgal (LAB 21.7–8) seems designed to demonstrate his punctilious adherence to the instructions set forth in Deut 27:5–7 (cf. MT Josh 8:31; LXX 9:2b).40 Yet, those instructions clearly stipulate a different site (Mt. Ebal in MT Deut 27:4; Mt. Gerizim in SP Deut 27:4).41 Pseudo-Philo studiously assigns the verbal rites and the sacrificial rites within the instructions of Deut 27:2–13 to two different sites. Like the authors of the Samaritan tenth commandment (SP Exod 20:13ו–א//SP Deut 5:17)ח–א, he con38 If one wished to embrace the view that the Gilgal mentioned was located in the Jordan rift, one could insist that all of the festivities miraculously occurred in quick succession. One finds such a view in the Tosefta (Sot ah 8.7). There, the rites at Gilgal and Mt. Ebal are said to ˙ Deut 27:2–3). have occurred within a single day (cf. 39 Mt. Ebal stands at some 940m above sea level, while Mt. Gerizim stands approximately 883m above sea level. 40 Yet, there are no burnt offerings as Deut 27:5–7 mandates and as Joshua 8:31 narrates. 41 The altar injunctions of Deut 27:5–7 are the only occasion in which the שלמיםappear in Deuteronomy. In Josh 8:31, Joshua presents well-being offerings ( )שלמיםas part of the ceremonies at Mt. Ebal. Other than the mention in Josh 8:31, the well-being offerings appear elsewhere in Joshua only once, namely to reference one of the types of offerings that the Transjordanian tribes were not presenting on their altar (Josh 22:23).
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strues the instructions in Deut 27:2–8 as entailing two different, but related rites: the erection and inscription of large stones with the terms of the Torah and the erection of an altar of whole stones upon which the Israelites are to offer sacrifices.42 But unlike the authors of the Samaritan tenth word, Pseudo-Philo interprets the instructions of Deuteronomy as involving two separate sites. Examining Pseudo-Philo’s composition more closely, one discerns that it partially inverts the order appearing in Josh 8:30–35 with recourse to the source text (Deut 27:2–8). The work begins with the altar, proceeds to the assembly and inscription of the large stones, and then returns to the altar. The partial inversion and reworking of Joshua create a chiastic structure in which altar actions precede and follow those involving the written and oral word.43 Keyed to the order one finds in the Biblical Antiquities, the literary sequence may be sketched as follows.44 Action
Source
Reference
A Joshua Builds the Stone Altar
Deut 27:5; Josh 8:30
LAB 21.7
B Joshua Limes and Inscribes Large Stones on Ebal
Deut 27:2–4, 8
LAB 21.7
B1 Joshua Recites all of the Torah on Ebal
Josh 8:34–35
LAB 21.7
A Joshua, the Priests, and the Levites Sacrifice at the Altar 1
Deut 27:6–7; Josh 8:31 LAB 21.8–9
There is another way of reading LAB 21.7–10. Jacobson contends that PseudoPhilo conflates the Gilgal and Mt. Ebal episodes together in his own account.45 The sequencing of altar construction at Gilgal, verbal rites at Ebal, and sacrificial rituals at Gilgal purportedly indicates that the two merge together in Pseudo-Philo’s narrative. Certainly, Pseudo-Philo’s narrative recalls a few elements of the ceremonies depicted in Josh 4:1–5:12, even though Pseudo-Philo does not 42 In so doing, Pseudo-Philo corrects the interpretation of Deuteronomy’s instructions in Josh 8:30–35. 43 Because he prefaces his reworking of Josh 8:30–35 with a notice of an altar construction, his correction of the Joshua account by reference to the primary source text (Deut 27:2–8), his compositional technique does not match, in this instance, the normal marks of an inverted citation. See M. Zeidel, “Parallels between Isaiah and the Psalms,” Sinai 38 (1955–56): 149– 172, 229–240, 272–280, 335–355 (Hebrew); P. C. Beentjes, “Inverted Quotations in the Bible: A Neglected Stylistic Pattern,” Bib 63 (1982): 506–23; idem, “Discovering a New Path of Intertextuality: Inverted Quotations and Their Dynamics,” in Literary Structure and Rhetorical Strategies in the Hebrew Bible (ed. L. J. de Regt, J. de Waard, and J. P. Fokkelman; Assen: Van Gorcum, 1996), 31–50. 44 The sequence differs in Josh 8:30–35 (LXX 9:2a–f). There, Joshua builds the altar, offers sacrifices upon the altar, inscribes a copy of the Torah upon the stones, and recites the Torah publicly. 45 Jacobson, Commentary, 687–88; idem, “Pseudo-Philo,” 521.
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discuss this material himself. He also positions, as we have obseved, the Gilgal and Ebal narratives in close literary – and probably also geographic – proximity to one another (LAB 21.7–10). In this respect, one may speak of the Gilgal-Ebal-Gilgal sequence as a continuum of public rites. Nevertheless, there is little in Pseudo-Philo’s sophisticated presentation that borrows from the narratives found in Josh 4:1–5:12, except for the name Gilgal itself and a range of participants (Joshua, the priests, the people). Whereas the traditions embedded in Josh 4:1–20 consistently speak of twelve stones ()האבנים, whether set up in mid-stream (Josh 4:9) or at Gilgal (Josh 4:20–21; 5:9–10), the directives in Deut 27:2–4 and 27:5–7 speak of “large stones” ( )אבנים גדלותand of “whole stones” ()אבנים שלמות, respectively.46 It seems clear, then, that Pseudo-Philo has principally Deut 27:2–8 and Josh 8:30–35 in view. To this, one may add that echoes of the conquest completion formulae (Josh 21:43–45) and covenant renewal ceremony concluding the book (Josh 24:1–27) also appear in Joshua’s blessing. Joshua requests of the Lord that the people’s heart would remain with Him all their days (LAB 21.10; cf. Josh 24:16–18, 21, 24) and that the Lord’s covenant would not be broken (LAB 21.10; cf. Josh 24:25–27).47 The (dis)similarities between Joshua and Pseudo-Philo’s work may be sketched as follows. 48 Action
Location and Source
Location and Source
Altar of Unworked Stones
Ebal
Gilgal
LAB 21.7
Setting Up Large Stones
— —
Ebal
LAB 21.7
Offerings at Altar
Ebal
Gilgal
LAB 21.9
Plastering the Stones
— —
Ebal
LAB 21.7
Inscribing the Torah
Ebal
Ebal
LAB 21.7
Tent of Meeting
— —
Gilgal
LAB 21.8
Israel, Levitical Priests, Ark
Ebal
Josh 8:33
Gilgal
LAB 21.848
Half Facing Gerizim; Half Facing Ebal
Ebal
Josh 8:33
— —
Reciting the Torah
Ebal
Josh 8:34–35 Ebal
LAB 21.8
Joshua’s Offerings at Altar
Ebal
Josh 8:31
LAB 21.8
Josh 8:30–31
Josh 8:31
Josh 8:32
Gilgal
46 The complicated literary development of Joshua 3–4 cannot be dealt with here. See recently J. J. K rause, Exodus und Eisodus: Komposition und Theologie von Josua 1–5 (VTSup 161; Leiden: Brill, 2014), 197–373; T. B. Dozeman, Joshua 1–12 (AB 6B; New Haven: Yale University Press, 2015), 271–83. 47 In Pseudo-Philo’s Vorlage, these words were likely spoken at Shiloh (in conformity with LXX Josh 24:1, 25). The lemma of the MT (Shechem) is likely older than that of the LXX (lectio difficilior). 48 In conformity with LXX Josh 9:2d, Pseudo-Philo speaks of priests and Levites, rather than of Levitical priests (so the MT).
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Priests and Levites’ Offerings at Altar
— —
Gilgal
LAB 21.9
Communal Dancing and Revelry
— —
Gilgal
LAB 21.9
Thanksgiving for Divine Promises
— —
Gilgal
LAB 21.9
Blessing upon the People
Ebal
Gilgal
LAB 21.10
Prayer for Future Divine Residency
— —
Gilgal
LAB 21.10
Josh 8:33
As we have seen, the festivities at Gilgal are not simply the occasion for a onetime sacrifice, as we find in the work of Josephus (Ant. 5.20), but rather form part of a larger pattern of public rituals that include the priests and Levites lifting the ark from the tent of meeting and placing the ark in front of the Gilgal altar (LAB 21.9). It is here, rather than at Mt. Gerizim (Deut 11:29–30; 27:11–13), that the blessing occurs (LAB 21.10). Given that God himself called for the creation of a sanctuary so that “the tabernacle of my glory will be among you” (LAB 11.15), the appearance of the tent of meeting at Gilgal is highly significant.49 The festivities mark a high point in the early history of landed Israel. Implicitly tying the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal altar legislation to the mandate for centralized sacrifice, the author construes the successful founding of a Gilgal cultus as a momentous occasion in the story of landed Israel. To underline the import of the public ceremonies, Pseudo-Philo borrows thematic elements found elsewhere in the Pentateuch, Samuel-Kings, and Chronicles.50 The “peace offerings” (LAB 21.8; cf. Josh 8:31; LXX 9:2b) presented by Joshua are accompanied by much praise in song, the retrieval of the ark from the tent of meeting, the playing of various musical instruments, and the performance of dances.51 Positioning the ark before the altar, the priests and Levites present “very many peace offerings” (LAB 21.9) upon the altar, and rejoice in song (LAB 21.9). The scene depicted by Pseudo-Philo resonates, therefore, with the pan-Israelite celebrations depicted in biblical lore involving the ascent of the ark into Jerusalem during the reign of David (2 Sam 6:1–19; 1 Chr 15:1–16:43) and the dedication of the Jerusalem temple during the reign of Solomon (1 K ings 8; 2 Chr 5:2–7:10).52 To understand the import of Pseudo-Philo’s presentation, one must recognize, then, that his work recasts Israel’s successful emergence in the land under Joshua as a signal achievement, anticipating Israel’s achievements during the 49
Compare Exod 25:8–9 (MT, LXX, SP); Heb 8:5; 2 Bar 4:5, Murphy, Pseudo-Philo, 68. Commentary, 232, 691; Begg, “Ceremonies,” 78–82. 51 As we have seen, Josephus (Ant. 5.20, 34) does not situate the tent of meeting at Gilgal and only raises the topic of “the holy tent” (τὴν ἱερὰν σκηνὴν) in reference to Shiloh (Ant. 5.68). Cf. Josh 18:1–10. 52 That the celebrations bear little resemblance to the Gilgal ceremonies, when the Israelites crossed over into the land (Josh 4:1–20; 5:9–12), reinforce the impression that Pseudo-Philo recasts the Gilgal liturgies in accordance with motifs drawn from major pan-Israelite festivities occurring in other literary contexts. 50 Jacobson,
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united monarchy, as portrayed in the Former Prophets and Chronicles.53 In these writings, the reigns of David and Solomon represent a high-water mark in the history of landed Israel. During this time David defeats Israel’s enemies, the people finally enjoy peace and prosperity in the land under Solomon, and the central sanctuary is built.54 Tying Zion to Sinai in his second blessing at the temple’s dedication, Solomon boldly proclaims: “Not one word has fallen from every good promise he [Yhwh] spoke by the hand of his servant Moses” (1 Kgs 8:56). In Pseudo-Philo’s imaginative reinvention of early Israel, the achievements of “the entire house of Israel” occasion a similar exclamation: “Our Lord has fulfilled what he spoke to our ancestors … . He led us into the land of our foes … and has established every word of his law that he spoke to us at Horeb” (LAB 21.9).55 “Behold, the Lord has done everything that he said to us” (Ecce fecit Dominus omnia que locutus est ad nos; LAB 21.9). To be sure, the danger in sketching such an optimistic scene is that the Gilgal festivities threaten to overshadow those attending the construction of a permanent central sanctuary. Hence, the author is careful to indicate that he is not forgetting Jerusalem. Joshua’s concluding blessing implores continuing fidelity so that “there may be built among you a habitation of God (habitaculum Dei), as he promised, when he sent you into his inheritance with joy and gladness” (sicut locutus est cum misit vos in hereditatem suam cum iucunditate et hilaritate; LAB 21.10). The allusion to a future divine residence indicates that the Gilgal cultus has only penultimate validity. Both Gilgal and (later) Shiloh function as pro tempore repositories of the tent of meeting, given that the construction of a “house of our Lord in Jerusalem” (domus Domini in Ierusalem) is still to come (LAB 22.9).56 Yet, as Murphy puts it, the scene at Gilgal “sets the stage 53 “Were it not for Israel’s unfaithfulness, this would be the climax not just of the first part of the Biblical Antiquities but the end of the entire book,” Murphy, Pseudo-Philo, 103. In speaking of “Israel’s unfaithfulness,” Murphy alludes to the Transjordanian altar incident, which soon follows (LAB 22). Jacobson observes that the whole scene represents “a kind of re-creation of the covenant at Sinai,” Commentary, 691. 54 See further Jacobson, Commentary, 232, 688–90. The statement is truer of Chronicles than it is of the Deuteronomistic writing, which contains a good deal material that is critical of David and Solomon. Nevertheless, the achievements of the united monarchy and those of the earlier time of Joshua mark two high points in the Deuteronomistic work. See G. N. K noppers, 1 Chronicles 10–29 (AB 12A; New York: Doubleday/New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004), 604–62. 55 The name Horeb ()חרב, rather than Sinai, figures prominently in Deuteronomy (1:2, 6, 19; 4:10, 15; 5:2; 9:8: 18:16; 28:69), Kings (1 Kgs 8:9//2 Chr 5:10; 19:8), and related sources (Exod 3:1; 17:6; 33:6; Mal 3:22; Ps 106:19) as the mountain of divine legislation. Because the legal texts referenced by Pseudo-Philo stem from Deuteronomy, his choice of terminology reflects an erudite knowledge of that source. On the possibility of a lacuna in the text caused by homoioteleuton, see Jacobson, Commentary, 692–93. 56 The Priestly-style portions of the book of Joshua mention the council of Israel establishing the tent of meeting at Shiloh ( ; וישכינו שם את אהל מועדJosh 18:1), but the tent of meeting (outside of the last section of Joshua) goes unmentioned until it appears suddenly in the nar-
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for the rest of the book by showing what is ideally possible, given Israel’s obedience.”57
IV. A Succession of Sacred Precincts We have been exploring how Pseudo-Philo casts the Gilgal celebrations as the highpoint in the development of Israel’s early life in the land. Reimagining the Joshua story in the light of a very particular reading of Deuteronomy, Pseudo-Philo creates a most unusual narrative about Israel’s cultic activities in the land. Yet, various aspects of his treatment of Deuteronomy and Joshua remain puzzling. It may be useful to address some of these questions. Why do the imperatives in the Deuteronomy 27 altar law matter to such an extent that he assigns their actualization to a different location? What are his exegetical assumptions in insisting that the Israelites carefully adhered to pentateuchal statutes in building an altar at Gilgal? Is there a method to Pseudo-Philo’s madness? Like a number of late biblical and non-biblical writers, Pseudo-Philo envisions, in my judgment, a succession of divinely blessed cultic precincts in the land.58 Because the centralization laws of Deuteronomy 12 mandate only one ration of the troubles attending the stewardship of the Shiloh cult by Eli’s sons (MT 1 Sam 2:22). But this comment, lacking in 4QSama and the LXX B, is likely an early interpolation. See P. K. McCarter, I Samuel (AB 8; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1980), 81, and in much more detail, A. Rofé, “The History of Israelite Religion and the Biblical Text: Corrections due to the Unification of Worship,” in Emanuel: Studies in Hebrew Bible, Septuagint, and Dead Sea Scrolls in Honor of Emanuel Tov (ed. S. M. Paul et al.; VTSup 94; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 759–93 (772–73). Within Samuel-Kings, the tent of meeting does not appear again until the time of the temple dedication (1 Kgs 8:4–5). There, also, its appearance likely represents a Priestly-style insertion, M. Noth, Könige 1 (BK IX/1; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1968), 174–75. On the Priestly-style material in Joshua, see M. Noth, Überlieferungsgeschichtliche Studien: Die sammelnden und bearbeitenden Geschichtswerke im Alten Testament (Tübingen: Max Niemeyer, 1943), 182–90; E. Cortese, Josua 13–21: Ein priesterschriftlicher Abschnitt im deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerk (OBO 94; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1990); R. Albertz, “The Canonical Alignment of the Book of Joshua,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century (ed. O. Lipschits, G. N. K noppers, and R. A lbertz; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 287–303; H. N. Rösel, Joshua (HCOT; Leuven: Peeters, 2011), 285–352; Krause, Exodus und Eisodus, 415–27. 57 Murphy, Pseudo-Philo, 104. 58 One biblical example of such a concept of successive cultic centers appears in Psalm 78. The psalm declares that God “uprooted the sanctuary at Shiloh ()ויטש משכן שלו, the tent He had established among humans” ( ;אהל שכן באדםPs 78:60), while later stating that the Lord “chose the tribe of Judah ()ויבחר את־שבט יהודה, Mt. Zion, which he loved” ( ; את־הר ציון אשר אהבPs 78:68), Rofé, “History of Israelite Religion,” 759–93; F.-L. Hossfeld and E. Zenger, Psalms 2: A Commentary on Psalms 51–100 (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2005), 290–300. Another example stems from Chronicles, which depicts Gibeon as the host of centralized sacrifice and the tent of meeting, before the tent is transferred to the Jerusalem temple, G. N. K noppers, I Chronicles 10–29, 651–66. An example from Qumran is the Joshua Apocryphon (4Q522, frag. 9 ii), dating to the late 2nd or early 1st century BCE, which speaks of “Eleazar [and
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legitimate Yahwistic altar, when the Israelites become safely settled in the land, Gilgal remains, at least for a time, the focal point of Israel’s sacrificial life. Hence, when Pseudo-Philo speaks of the future establishment of an altar at Jerusalem, he states that this was a “new altar” (novo sacrario; LAB 22.9), that is, not one to which Israel ever had any previous recourse.59 Because the author recasts the Mt. Ebal episode as one strictly involving the written and oral word, the austere corporate rites implemented there do not violate the principles of cultic unity and cultic purity. The centralization legislation addresses the location of Israelite sacrifices (Deut 12:5–7, 11, 13–14, 17–18), the elimination of rival sacrificial sites, Yahwistic or otherwise (Deut 12:2–4, 29–31), corporate feasting (Deut 12:7, 12), and the introduction of secular slaughter (Deut 12:15–16, 20– 28), rather than the location of observing oral and written proclamations. On the basis of his assertions about a Gilgal-Shiloh-Jerusalem succession, it could be claimed that Pseudo-Philo safeguards the principle of centralization to the point of substantially overwriting the testimony found in his principal biblical source (Joshua). Because sacrifice occurred only at the altar of Gilgal, and not on Mt. Ebal or at any other site at that time, the Israelites were scrupulously faithful to the injunctions about implementing centralized worship, once they had become safely settled in the land (Deut 12:10). Thus, one could make the case that the demand for unification of worship takes precedence over all other cultic demands in Deuteronomy, including the mandate for constructing an altar on Mt. Ebal/Mt. Gerizim and offering sacrifices there. Joshu]a [carrying] the t[ent of mee]ting from Beth[el to Shiloh …]” (ii 13) and of David’s youngest son building a house for Yhwh the God of Israel (ii 5–6). On the reconstructed text and its issues, see E. P uech, “La pierre de Sion et l‘autel des holocaustes d’après un Manuscrit hébreu de la grotte 4 (4Q522),” RB 99 (1992): 676–96; idem, “522. 4QProphétie de Josué (4QapocrJosuéc?),” in Qumrân Grotte 4.XVIII: Textes hébreux (4Q521–4Q528, 4Q576– 4Q579) (DJD 25; Oxford: Clarendon, 1998), 39–84; idem, “Les manuscrits de Qumrân inspirés du Livre de Josué: 4Q378, 4Q379, 4Q175, 4Q522, 5Q9 et Mas10–39–211,” RevQ 28 (2016): 45–116; E. Qimron, “Concerning ‘Joshua Cycles’ from Qumran,” Tarbiz 63 (1994): 503–8 (Hebrew); D. Dimant, “The Apocryphon of Joshua – 4Q522 9 ii: A Reappraisal,” in Emanuel: Studies in Hebrew Bible, Septuagint, and Dead Sea Scrolls in Honor of Emanuel Tov (ed. S. M. Paul et al.; VTSup 94; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 179–204; eadem, “Between Sectarian and Nonsectarian: The Case of the Apocryphon of Joshua,” in History, Ideology and Bible Interpretation in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Collected Studies (FAT 90; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014), 113–33; E. Tov, “The Rewritten Book of Joshua as Found at Qumran and Masada,” in Hebrew Bible, Greek Bible, and Qumran: Collected Essays (TSAJ 121; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008), 71–91; F. García Martínez, “The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Book of Joshua,” in Qumran and the Bible: Studying the Jewish and Christian Scriptures in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. N. Dávid and A. Lange; CBET 57; Leuven: Peeters, 2010), 97–110; A. Feldman, The Rewritten Joshua Scrolls from Qumran: Texts, Translations and Commentary (BZAW 438; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2014), 142–48. 59 An earlier version of this text (LAB 22.8) evidently became confused in its transmission (In sacrario autem novo quod erat in Galgalis). Gilgal is likely an error for Shiloh (*in Sylon), Spiro, “Samaritans,” 350; Perrot, Bogaert, with Harrington, “Commentaire,” 143–44; Jacobson, Commentary, 33, 128, 708–9.
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Yet, I would argue that the situation is more complex, because Pseudo-Philo interprets the altar mandate in Deut 27:5–7 as relating to the central altar. 60 In actualizing the demands of Deut 27:5–7 at Gilgal, a site at which Pseudo-Philo situates the only authorized sacrificial altar for the Israelite people, the ark, and the tent of meeting, Pseudo-Philo implicitly draws a correlation between the central altar called for in Deut 11:31–12:31 and the altar called for in the legislation of Deut 27:5–7. 61 Joshua’s construction of the Gilgal altar simultaneously adheres to both pieces of legislation. Elements of the two merge in his account. One piece of legislation is interpreted in light of the other. 62 That Joshua builds an altar made of hefty stones, not disfigured by iron (LAB 21.7), complies with the directives of Deut 27:5–6. By contrast, the centralization legislation of Deut 12:26–27 does not address the particular issue of altar composition. The concern to correlate the two pieces of Deuteronomic legislation also illumines why he makes such a point of stressing Israel’s rejoicing in the festivities that attend the corporate sacrifices (LAB 21.9–10). Such rejoicing is commanded in both the centralization legislation (Deut 12:7, 12, 18) and the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal legislation (Deut 27:7). 63
V. Cultic Unity Challenged: The Establishment of a Transjordanian Altar That Pseudo-Philo holds to the principle of centralization, even before the Jerusalem temple has been planned and built, is evident in how he recasts Joshua’s 60 As we have observed in the previous chapters, Josephus (along with a number of early Jewish writers) similarly construes the commands of Deut 27:5–7 as mandating, among other things, how an Israelite stone altar is to be fashioned. 61 That altar is explicitly mentioned only twice in the centralization legislation (Deut 12:27), “And you will present your burnt offerings, the flesh and the blood, on the altar of Yhwh your God; the blood of your sacrifices will be poured out on the altar of Yhwh your God, but the flesh you may eat.” The sacred precinct of which the altar is one critical component is consistently alluded to as “the place” ( )המקוםof God’s own choosing (Deut 12:5, 11, 14, 18, 21, 26). The centralization legislation mentions altars in one other context, referring to the altars of the indigenous peoples (MT ; ונתצתם את־מזבחתםSP )ונתצתם את־מזבחתיהם, which the Israelites are to tear down (Deut 12:3). On these matters, the MT and SP are in agreement. 62 Another example of such a generalizing reading of the altar law of Deut 27:5–7, correlating its instructions with those found in the centralization legislation, appears in 1 Maccabees. When Judas Maccabee orders the rebuilding of the desecrated altar at the Jerusalem temple (1 Macc 1:45–50, 54), the priests do so, according to the law (κατὰ τὸν νόμον), employing only whole stones (λίθους ο̉λοκλήρους; 1 Macc 4:47). The adjective ο̉λ όκλρηρος, “whole, sound, complete,” clearly reflects the lemma of Deut 27:6 ( ;אבנים שלמותLXX λίθους ο̉λοκλήρους). 63 Given that the Deuteronomistic and Chronistic works construe the Solomonic temple as the central sanctuary, the ark’s ascent into Jerusalem (2 Sam 6:1–19; 1 Chr 15:1–16:43) and the dedication of the temple (1 Kgs 8:1–66; 2 Chr 5:2–7:10) include the theme of corporate feasting and rejoicing before Yhwh.
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reaction to the establishment of a new altar by the tribes of Reuben, Gad, and Half-Manasseh (LAB 22.1–7). The author freely transforms critical features of this curious biblical story (Josh 22:11–34) to reframe this incident as a major crisis in Israelite history. To review: the members of the two and a half Transjordanian tribes insist that the great altar they have built, a “model of the altar of Yhwh” ( )תבנית מזבח יהוהin the Cisjordan (Josh 22:28), is not an altar used for the presentation of burnt offerings, well-being offerings, and the like, but an altar of “witness” ( ;עדJosh 22:27–28) that would encourage future generations of the Transjordanian tribes to offer sacrifices before Yhwh at the Israelite altar in the Cisjordan. Accepting this explanation, the Cisjordanian tribes decree that the offending altar is not to be destroyed, but rather affirmed as a non-sacrificial witness that “Yhwh is God” ( ;יהוה האלהיםJosh 22:34). In Pseudo-Philo’s retelling (LAB 22.1–7), the incident becomes a potentially catastrophic crisis that threatens the entire body politic. The transgressive altar established by the two and half tribes serves as a case study of what may occur when any group of Israelites violates the sanctity of the one central altar.64 Reuben, Gad, and Half-Manasseh not only construct an altar (edificassant ibi altare), but also offer sacrifices upon it (immolarent sacrificia in eo) and appoint priests for the new sanctuary (fecissent sacerdotes in sacrario; LAB 22.1). 65 Because the Transjordanian tribes institute a counter-cultus, they threaten the very underpinnings of the the official cultus carefully established by Joshua in the Cisjordan. The misbehavior is severe enough for Joshua to compare it to that of the Golden Calf (LAB 22.5). Indeed, the rebellion (LAB 22.1–7), occurring immediately after the Gilgal celebrations (LAB 21.7–10), recalls the Golden Calf rebellion (Exod 32:1–35), occurring immediately after the theophany, commandments, and tabernacle specifications delivered to Moses on Mt. Sinai (Exod 19:1–31:17). The highpoint–lowpoint sequence of the Gilgal altar-Transjordanian altar stories mirrors, therefore, the earlier highpoint–lowpoint sequence of the Sinaitic revelation-Golden Calf stories in the Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum. 66 64 Spiro observes that the text situates the offending tribes ambiguously as those “which dwelt about the Jordan” (“Samaritans,” 343). Jacobson argues that circa Iordanem in the phrase qui habitabant circa Iordanem may reflect an original Hebrew, “across the Jordan,” בעבר הירדן, Commentary, 695. While this is possible, the ambiguous phraseology may reflect multiple claims in the source text, which depicts the two and a half tribes entering “the districts of the Jordan” ()גלילות הירדן, which were “in the land of Canaan” ( ;בארץ כנעןJosh 22:10). There, they build an impressive large altar “by the Jordan” ( ;על־הירדןJosh 22:10). From the perspective of the Cisjordanian tribes, the altar is built “opposite the land of Canaan” ()אל־מול ארץ כנען, “toward the districts of the Jordan” ()אל־גלילות הירדן, “across from the descendants of Israel” ( ; אל־עבר בני ישראלJosh 22:11). 65 On the translation “altar” for sacrarium, see Jacobson, Commentary, 687, 927. 66 Singled out by Pseudo-Philo as the major crisis of the Sinaitic era (LAB 12.1–10), the Golden Calf incident immediately follows the story of the divine revelation of law to Moses
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Drastic action is thus needed to avoid a full-scale disaster. The transgression committed by one part of the Israelite people threatens the whole (LAB 22.2) and might cause Israel to be defeated by its enemies (LAB 22.3). The protestations submitted by the offending tribes, namely that they find themselves far from the Lord and worry for their posterity (LAB 22.4), are deemed inadequate, because they still have access to the law. As the discussion of the Decalogue makes clear, knowledge of God’s “everlasting law” provides people with knowledge of God (LAB 11.2–3) and the law, by virtue of being a portable literary work, is not confined to a single location. 67 Indeed, if the Transjordanian tribes had been diligently meditating on God’s commandments, as Joshua points out, alluding to the centralization statutes (Deut 12:1–13:1), they would have never built another altar in the first place (LAB 22.5). Accordingly, Joshua instructs them to destroy the altar and apply themselves anew to studying the law (LAB 22.6). The thousand sacrifices Joshua and the people lift up in response to the news they receive from Reuben, Gad, and Half-Manasseh are, therefore, not thanksgiving offerings (Josephus, Ant. 5.112, 114), but rather sacrifices (supplemented by prayers) offered on behalf of the offenders to plead for their pardon (LAB 22.7). 68 The communal destruction of the offending altar averts a terrible disaster for the Israelite people. 69 Action
Joshua
LAB
Joshua Dismisses the Transjordanian tribes
22:1–9
—
Transjordanian Tribes Build Altar
22:10
22.1
Priests Appointed, Sacrifices Offered
—
22.1
(LAB 11.1–15). The only other rebellious act Pseudo-Philo mentions in the post-exodus and pre-conquest era is the rebellion of Korah (LAB 16.1–7). The inclusion speaks to his larger literary and theological interests. By contrast, the work of Josephus (Ant. 3.95–99) largely omits the Golden Calf debacle. See C. T. Begg, “The Cisjordanian Altar(s) and their Associated Rites According to Josephus,” BZ 41 (1997): 192–211 (210); L. H. Feldman, Flavius Josephus, Judean Antiquities 1–4 (Flavius Josephus, Translation and Commentary 3; Leiden: Brill, 2000), 254–56. 67 The explanations of Aaron (Exod 32:22–24) also fail to convince, but Pseudo-Philo’s treatment of Aaron is milder than that found in the Exodus account (LAB 12.2–3), Murphy, Pseudo-Philo, 69–73. 68 Pseudo-Philo seems to have employed Moses’ repeated intercession for the sins of the people (Exod 32:11–14, 30–32, reworked in LAB 12.4–10), as a model for Joshua’s actions in confronting the consequences of the breach created by the Transjordanian tribes. 69 The participation by the broader populace in destroying the altar (LAB 22.8) resonates with the popular reforms carried out during the reigns of such leaders as Asa (2 Chr 15:9–15), Jehoiada (2 Chr 23:1–21), Hezekiah (2 Chr 31:1) and Josiah (2 Chr 34:4). S. Japhet discusses the democratization of royal reforms in some detail, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ 9; Frankfurt am Main: Lang, 1989), 291–300; eadem, I & II Chronicles (OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1993), 721–28, 828–37, 961–63, 1022–23.
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Cisjordanian Tribes Prepare at Shiloh
22:11–12
22.1
Appeal of Phinehas and Tribal Representatives
22:13–20
—
Rebuke by Joshua and the Elders
—
22.2
Transjordanian Tribes: Altar as Witness
22:21–29
—
Transjordanian Tribes: Altar because of Distance from God —
22.3–4
Second Rebuke from Joshua
—
22.5–6
Affirmation of Phinehas and Tribal Leaders
22:30–31
—
Joshua and the Israelites Offer Sacrifices
—
22.7
Transjordanian Tribes Raze Altar, Fast, and Lament
—
22.7
Joshua brings the Tent and Ark to Shiloh
—
22.8
Urim and Thummim at Shiloh until the Temple is Built
—
22.9
One function of the reworked tale in Pseudo-Philo’s writing is to underscore the importance of cultic unity for all Israelites, no matter where they reside. Given the principle of corporate responsibility operative in the life of Israel, a lapse by some will inevitably affect others (LAB 22.2). A second function of the story is to uphold the primacy of the law as a foundational constitution for all Israelites.70 The two functions are related to one another. The stress Joshua places on Torah study and on Torah observance for those who live far away from the central altar protects the central sanctuary’s unrivalled status for Israelites, who live at great distances from the tent of meeting.71 There can be no question of multiple sacrificial shrines, even if they are Yahwistic in character. By diligently reading the Torah (principally Deuteronomy), Israelites living far away from the central altar would know that there was only one place for the name of Yhwh and one of their duties was to support it exclusively.72 In the Liber Antiq70 Jacobson,
Commentary, 206–7. In Jacobson’s view (Commentary, 206–207), such statements emphasizing the Torah indicate that the Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum was written after the destruction of the Second Temple. Indeed, when speaking of the Transjordanian altar as man-made (sacrarium manufactum; LAB 22.5), “L.A.B.’s author is inveighing against attaching great significance to sacrificial altars at all” (Jacobson, “Pseudo-Philo,” 523). Jacobson is right to stress the weight placed on Torah observance, yet the ancient author reserves the term manufactum for the transgressive altar and does not characterize the official Gilgal, Shiloh, and Jerusalem altars in this way. Such altars, unlike the eastern altar, are divinely sanctioned. To speak of the primacy of the Torah over against sacrificial worship and the temple may be to promote what was for the ancient author a false dichotomy. If the issue was, after all, only Torah study, there would be no pressing need for the errant tribes to destroy the offending altar and to fast, weep, and pray (LAB 22.7). 72 By implication, such an emphasis on Kultuseinheit would militate against the proposition that there could be more than one Yahwistic sanctuary for all those who call themselves Israelites, whether at a site within the land, such as Mt. Gerizim, or outside the land at a site, 71
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uitum Biblicarum (22.6), God, rather than an altar, functions as “witness and judge” for the Transjordanian tribes.73 That Joshua orchestrates the resolution of this incident at Shiloh (LAB 22.1), rather than in the land of Gilead, points toward the rise of Shiloh in Israelite national life.74 It is here that Joshua places the Urim and Thummim (demonstrationem et veritatem; LAB 22.8).75 With good order restored, Joshua proceeds to retrieve the tabernacle and ark from Gilgal and establishes them at Shiloh (LAB 22.8–9; cf. Josh 18:1, 8–10; 19:51). Thus, Shiloh comes to succeed Gilgal.76 Having inaugurated the Shiloh cultus, Joshua proclaims his final addresses to all Israel (LAB 23.1–14; 24.1–4; cf. Josh 23:2–16; 24:2–28).77 Shiloh serves, in turn, as the locus of Israel’s sacrificial worship until the temple is finally built in Jerusalem.78 Pseudo-Philo evidently envisions a succession of pro tempore central sanctuaries (Gilgal, Shiloh) until the permanent central sanctuary is built in Jerusalem.
Conclusions Pseudo-Philo responds to the diversity of cultic precincts he finds in Joshua by depicting a series of two principal places of centralized Yahwistic sacrifice – Gilgal and Shiloh – both of which house the tent of meeting for a time. The construction of a temple in Jerusalem, predicted by Joshua himself (LAB 22.9), such as Leontopolis (Josephus, J.W. 1.33; 7.420–436; Ant. 12.387–388, 397; 13.62–73, 285; 20.36; b. Menah. 109b). 73 Jacobson,˙ “Pseudo-Philo,” 523–24. 74 In Joshua the meeting with the Transjordanian representatives occurs not at Shiloh (LAB 22.1–2), but rather in the land of Gilead (Josh 22:13, 15). 75 On the Latin rendering for אורים ותמים, compare VL Exod 28:30, doctrinam et veritatem (Jacobson, Commentary, 707). 76 For its part, the Gilgal as a sacred site disappears from the text and is not mentioned again. 77 On the location of the speech in Shiloh, see also LXX Josh 24:1, 25. The lemma of MT Joshua 24:1 (Shechem) is likely to be the older reading (lectio difficilior). Instead of Shechem being the home of a sanctuary of Yhwh ( ;מקדש יהוהJosh 24:26), the LXX situates the tabernacle of God at Shiloh (LXX Josh 24:25). Harrington argues that the Vorlage of Joshua, Judges, and Samuel employed by Pseudo-Philo shared some affinities with the Lucianic (or proto-Lucianic) witnesses to the LXX, “Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum,” 1–17 (12). If Pseudo-Philo’s base text was proto-MT in character (so Jacobson, Commentary, 710–11), Pseudo-Philo’s treatment of this section of the Joshua narrative is even more subversive than what I have sketched. 78 See LAB 22.9, 12; 23.2; 48.2; 50.3; 51.7; 52.1; 55.9. In some cases, e.g., LAB 55.9, in which the ark is returned by the Philistines to Shiloh, there is no scriptural basis for Pseudo-Philo’s claim. Hence, the recognition bestowed upon Shiloh in the work does not simply parrot the author’s biblical sources. In acknowledging a plurality of Yahwistic sanctuaries, the Mishnah is more generous than Pseudo-Philo is: Gilgal, Shiloh, Nob, Gibeon, and Jerusalem (m. Zebah im 14.5–8). ˙
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actualizes the Deuteronomic demand for a permanent central sanctuary in the life of Israel, but it does not represent the inception of centralized sacrifice. This begins already in Gilgal at the behest of Joshua. The corollary of the argument about Gilgal and Shiloh is that the Shechem area (whether the town, Mt. Ebal, or Mt. Gerizim) does not appear in the appointed succession of cultic precincts. Pseudo-Philo construes the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal altar legislation as relevant to the construction of a central altar, but that altar is situated, paradoxically enough, at Gilgal. Insofar as the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal altar legislation comes into play, it validates the construction of a sacrificial installation at Gilgal. Considering how much material in Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, and Joshua that Pseudo-Philo does not take up in his own work, it is remarkable that he discusses the Mt. Ebal ceremonies at all. It would seem that Pseudo-Philo, like Josephus, wishes to explain to his Judean readers what role this particular area of northern Israel plays, and does not play, in his people’s formative past. Recognition that Pseudo-Philo construed the type of altar construction mandated in the legislation of Deut 27:5–7 as pertaining to the central altar elucidates why he does not pursue certain options in reworking his biblical source. It is conceivable, for instance, that Pseudo-Philo could have re cognized a longer succession of sacred precincts in the land – Gilgal, Mt. Ebal, Shiloh, and Jerusalem. Avoiding any mention of Mt. Gerizim whatsoever, he could have cast the sacrificial sojourn at Mt. Ebal as rather brief. If Pseudo-Philo had incorporated Mt. Ebal into his sacred altar typology, it would have made his narrative align better with the demands of (MT) Deuteronomy and the pre cedent of Joshua (MT and LXX). Yet, Pseudo-Philo might have felt compelled, for the sake of consistency, to mention the presence of the tent of meeting, however transitorily, at Mt. Ebal. Such a prospect would have hardly have mattered if Jewish-Samaritan relations were not an issue in Pseudo-Philo’s era. A succession from Gilgal and Mt. Ebal to Shiloh would maintain the broad typology, but represent an unpalatable prospect for the author, because it would entail that the area (albeit not the site) Samaritans held dear played host at one time in the past to a central altar for all Israelites. Given the premium ancients granted to ancient precedent, such a prospect would not have proved attractive to the author. Similarly, the assumption (or conclusion) of Pseudo-Philo that the altar called for in the legislation of Deut 27:5–7 refers to how an Israelite altar is to be made illumines why he does not present Mt. Ebal even as a temporary one-time site of national sacrifice. Theoretically, Pseudo-Philo could have allowed, as Chronicles does with reference to the ark’s ascent into Jerusalem and as Joshua (followed by Josephus) does with reference to the ceremonies at Mt. Ebal, a onetime offering of sacrifices on a special occasion without violating the foundational principle of centralized sacrifice at an authorized cultic center. Indeed, he could have allowed for such an exceptional commemoration on the grounds that Deuteronomy itself mandates such a public display of sacrifices at Mt. Gerizim/
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Mt. Ebal and Joshua portrays the same (at Mt. Ebal). In his own work, Pseudo-Philo occasionally allows for extraordinary cases, such as the burnt offerings and sacrifices presented to the Lord (obtulit holocaustomota et sacrificia Domino) by the chieftain Abdon (LAB 41.1) and the sacrifices and burnt offerings (sacrificia et holocaustomota) presented by the later chieftain Manoah (LAB 42.9; cf. Judg 13:2–23).79 In both instances, the sacrifices are legitimate.80 Indeed, the latter case is associated with an angelophany in which fire springs forth from the rock upon which the altar rests and devours the sacrifices (LAB 43.9). Yet, applying such a pro tempore approach to the legislation of Deut 27:5–7 presumes what it needs to demonstrate, namely that Pseudo-Philo conceived of this legislation as simply authorizing the construction of a temporary altar at a particular place, rather than as mandating how a central altar should be built. Recognition that the altar of uncut stones commanded in Deut 27:5 was construed by Pseudo-Philo as functionally identical to the central altar type commanded in Deut 12:26–27, illumines why the temporary altar option of understanding the Deuteronomy 27 regulations proved to be unattractive to him. By recasting Mt. Ebal as a site only of law inscription and recitation, Pseudo-Philo’s work indirectly casts aspersions on the claims made by Samaritans for the antiquity of sacrifices made at Mt. Gerizim after the Israelite entrance into the land. To this conclusion, it could be objected that MT Deuteronomy and Joshua speak of Mt. Ebal, rather than of Mt. Gerizim, as the site of sacrifice, inscription, and recitation. Hence, the mention of Mt. Ebal in an earlier Judean (biblical) text should not have created any exegetical or theological issues. Yet, the situation was more complicated than the choice of one mountain over another might suggest. Mt. Ebal, even as the mount of curses (Deut 11:29–30; 27:13), was still paired in geography, text, and tradition with the mount of blessings (SP Deut 27:4, 12).81 Moreover, the entire area associated with the two mountains was sometimes viewed as a single entity (Shechem). Thus, for instance, the Greek epic poem of the Hellenistic era writer Theodotus speaks of the “two mighty mountains” one can see from the city and of “visible watered Shechem, a holy city.”82 79 The former have no parallel in the terse biblical account of his tenure (Judg 12:13–15). Jacobson discerns in Psuedo-Philo’s rendering of Abdon a positive counterpart to the errant Jephthah, Commentary, 978. In the case of Manoah, the motif of the angel causing the fire to emanate from the rock and devour the sacrifices seems to have been borrowed from the Gideon account (Judg 6:21), Murphy, Pseudo-Philo, 171. 80 In neither case does the writer address the nature of the altar constructions. 81 On Mt. Gerizim as the place of blessing, see, e.g., Tībat Marqe 94, 224 (Memar Marqa 2.10; 3.3, 4). On Mt. Gerizim as טורא ט]ב[א, “the good mountain” (possibly the place-name of a town near Mt. Gerizim), see MGI 11; Tībat Marqe 94, 224a (Memar Marqa 2.10; 3.3). Compare MT and SP Deut 3:25 ( ההר הטוב הזהLXX τὸ ὄρος τοῦτο τὸ ἀγαθὸν). 82 Frag. 1 (9.22.1) as cited and translated in H. Jacobson, “Theodotus, ‘On the Jews,’” in Outside the Bible: Ancient Jewish Writings related to Scripture (3 vols.; ed. L. H. Feldman,
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The implication seems clear. If Samaritans were to initiate sacrificial worship in this vicinity in a later era, they would be violating the principle of centralization and departing from the ancient standard established by the first Israelite inhabitants of the land. If Jewish-Samaritan disputes about sacred geography were not extant in Pseudo-Philo’s time, there would be no compelling need for him to stress how his rewritten version of the Mt. Ebal ceremonies fulfilled the legislative demands presented in Deuteronomy, even as he subversively restricts the range of decrees governing those ceremonies. Similarly, his neglect of the establishment of an altar, the offering of prescribed sacrifices, the presence of the ark, and the participation of priests and Levites at the Mt. Ebal convocation (MT Josh 8:30–33; LXX 9:2a–d) suggests that he sought to downplay, if not eliminate, any association between the Shechem area and national sacrifices in Israel’s classical past. By not mentioning any blessings and curses in the proceedings (Deut 11:26, 29; 27:11–26; Josh 8:33–34 [LXX 9:2d–e]), Pseudo-Philo did not have to speak of Mt. Gerizim at all. In brief, the Samaritan issue is certainly not the whole story in explaining why Pseudo-Philo writes his discourse about early Israel’s emergence in the land in the manner he does, but it is a part of it.
J. L. Kugel, and L. H. Schiffman; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2013), 1.721–25 (722).
Chapter Eleven
The Samaritan Tenth Commandment: Origins, Content, and Context One of the best known features of the Samaritan Pentateuch is its version of the tenth commandment, appearing in both the Exodus and the Deuteronomy versions of the Decalogue.1 The particular passage is widely regarded to be one of the distinguishing marks of the Samaritan Pentateuch, all the more so, because many distinguishing marks of the work, as traditionally conceived, such as conflations, the use of scriptio plena, and textual additions, have turned out not to be so.2 With the discovery and analysis of the Dead Sea Scrolls, these features can no longer be said to set the Samaritan Pentateuch apart from all other textual witnesses. To take one example, the epilogue to the Exodus-version of the Decalogue in the Samaritan Pentateuch contains two sets of two additions. First, following 1 F. Dexinger, “Das Garizimgebot im Dekalog der Samaritaner,” in Studien zum Pentateuch (ed. G. Braulik; Vienna: Herder, 1977), 111–33; J. E. Sanderson, An Exodus Scroll from Qumran: 4QpaleoExodm and the Samaritan Tradition (HSS 30; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986), 235–37, 317–20; Z. Ben-Hayyim, “The Tenth Commandment in Samaritan Research,” ˙ in Essays in Honour of G. D. Sixdenier: New Samaritan Studies of the Société d’Études Samaritaines III & IV (ed. A. D. Crown and L. Davey; Studies in Judaica 5; Sydney: Mandelbaum, 1995), 487–92; I. Himbaza, Le Décalogue et l’histoire du texte: Études des formes textuelles du Décalogue et leurs implications dans l’histoire du texte de l’Ancien Testament (OBO 207; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2004), 63–67, 183–86. 2 F. M. Cross, The Ancient Library of Qumrân and Modern Biblical Studies (rev. ed.; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1961), 188–92; idem, “The Contribution of the Discoveries at Qumran to the Study of the Biblical Text,” IEJ 16 (1966): 81–95; J. D. P urvis, The Samaritan Pentateuch and the Origin of the Samaritan Sect (HSM 2; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1968); R. J. Coggins, Samaritans and Jews (Atlanta: John Knox, 1975), 148–55; E. Tov, “The Proto-Samaritan Texts and the Samaritan Pentateuch,” in The Samaritans (ed. A. D. Crown; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1989), 397–407; idem, “The Samaritan Pentateuch and the So-Called ‘Proto-Samaritan’ Texts,” in Studies on Hebrew and Other Semitic Languages Presented to Professor Chaim Rabin on the Occasion of his Seventy-Fifth Birthday (ed. M. H. Goshen-Gottstein, S. Morag, and S. Kogut; Jerusalem: Academon, 1990), 136–46 (Hebrew); R. P ummer, “The Samaritans and their Pentateuch,” in The Pentateuch as Torah: New Models for Understanding Its Promulgation and Acceptance (ed. G. N. Knoppers and B. M. Levinson; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 237–69; M. Kartveit, The Origin of the Samaritans (VTSup 128; Leiden: Brill, 2009), 290–96; G. N. K noppers, “Parallel Torahs and Inner–Scriptural Interpretation,” in The Pentateuch (ed. T. B. Dozeman, K. Schmid, and B. Schwartz; FAT 78; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 507–31; E. C. Ulrich, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Developmental Composition of the Bible (VTSup 169; Leiden: Brill, 2015), 29–45, 215–27.
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Exod 20:18 (MT), the Samaritan Pentateuch includes Deut 5:24–27 (21–24), the report of the people’s request for a mediator after they have witnessed the divine revelation of the Ten Words. Second, following Exod 20:21 (MT), the Samaritan Pentateuch includes Deut 5:28b–29 (25b–26), the divine assurance that he has heard the people’s request, Deut 18:18–22, the divine promise of a future prophet like Moses and the divine discourse on authentic prophecy, and Deut 5:30–31 (5:33–34), the divine instructions for the people to return to their tents and for Moses to stand near to receive further divine commands to communicate to the people.3 Given these interpolations, the text of Exodus 20 comes to resemble that of Deuteronomy 5 much more closely.4 Such pluses in the SP over against the MT were once thought to be key examples of harmonistic additions to the SP, indications that Samaritan scribes regularly, albeit not systematically, attempted to bring parallel passages within a particular book or within the Pentateuch as a whole into closer alignment. Close study of the DSS has substantially revised this once pervasive theory, because at least some of these additions also appear in certain pre-Samaritan Exodus witnesses in the DSS.5 In short, the aforementioned pluses are not specifically Samaritan sectarian readings, but rather indications that some Judean scribes and Samaritan scribes in the last centuries BCE were addressing perceived inconsistencies in pentateuchal manuscripts by occasionally intervening within these texts to enhance their coherence. 6 The assumption behind such scribal interventions, as Kugel has stressed, is that the Torah is a unified, internally consistent, and seamless work.7 Or, as Fishbane 3 The critical intermediary role of Moses in these and other pluses is explored and underscored by Kartveit, Origin, 263–311. 4 Thus, also in the Sabbath command, the SP reads “observe” ( )שמורin both versions of the Decalogue (Exod 20:8–11//Deut 5:12–15), while the MT reads “remember” ( )זכרin Exod 20:8 and “observe” ( )שמורin Deut 5:12. 5 Dexinger, “Garizimgebot,” 126–29; idem, “Samaritan Origins and the Qumran Texts,” in Methods of Investigation of the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Khirbet Qumran Site: Present Realities and Future Prospects (ed. M. O. Wise, N. Golb, J. J. Collins, and D. G. Pardee; Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences 722; New York: The New York Academy of Sciences, 1994), 238; Sanderson, Exodus Scroll, 236–37; S. W. Crawford, Rewriting Scripture in Second Temple Times (Studies in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 19–37; M. Zahn, Rethinking Rewritten Scripture (STDJ 95; Leiden: Brill, 2011), 135–77. 6 Generally, the SP evinces, however, more editorial restraint in dealing with legal material than some compositions known from Qumran do, such as 4QPentateuch (formerly 4Q Reworked Pentateuch) and the Temple Scroll. See M. J. Bernstein, “What Has Happened to the Laws? The Treatment of Legal Material,” DSD 15 (2008): 24–49 (32–33); Zahn, Rewritten Scripture, 173–75. S. Metso attributes this diversity in dealing with legal corpora to varying concepts of revelation in different communities, “Editorial Attitudes Toward Legal Material in Samaritan and Qumran Traditions,” in Studies in Honor of Anneli Aejmelaeus (ed. T. M. Law, M. Liljeström, and K. De Troyer; CBET 72; Leuven: Peeters, 2014), 645–58. 7 J. L. Kugel, “Ancient Biblical Interpretation and the Biblical Sage,” in Studies in Ancient Midrash (ed. J. L. Kugel; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press 2001), 1–26.
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puts it, “the Pentateuchal Torah of Moses is integral and indivisible.”8 To be clear, the Judean and Samaritan scribes responsible for such expansionary pluses did not create new texts ex nihilo, but borrowed passages from one literary context to address perceived lacunae in another. The realization that such additions are characteristic of both Judean and Samaritan scribal activity means that the distinctive features of the SP are much fewer in number than scholars believed a century or more ago.9 Given that the specifically Samaritan layer in the Samaritan Pentateuch is now recognized to be relatively thin, it becomes all the more important to attend carefully to those cases in which the SP exhibits distinctive theological features, when compared with the MT, DSS, LXX, OL, and other textual witnesses.10 The tenth commandment – or more accurately, set of commandments, because it contains more than one directive – is neither attested among the pre-Samaritan pentateuchal manuscripts in the Dead Sea Scrolls nor in any of the other Dead Sea Scroll textual witnesses. It also does not appear in any of the Judean versions of the Pentateuch.11 It only appears in Samaritan literary sources and inscriptions.12 Within Samaritan tradition from late antiquity onwards, the Decalogue plays an important and enduring role.13 Yet, even here, one is con8
M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon, 1985), 136. classic study of W. Gesenius, De Pentateuchi samaritani origine (Halle: Impensis librariae Rengerianae, 1815) contains a thorough discussion of the textual variants. Working at a time well before the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls, Gesenius did not realize the antiquity of many of the SP variants he meticulously detailed. See G. N. K noppers, “Toward a Critical Edition of the Samaritan Pentateuch: Reflections on Issues and Methods,” in Reading the Bible in Ancient Traditions and Modern Editions: Studies in Textual and Reception History in Honour of Peter W. Flint (ed. A. Perrin, K. S. Baek, and D. K. Falk; SBLEJL 47; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2017), 163–88. E. Tov comments that the SP “contains a few ideological elements that form a thin layer added to an otherwise non-sectarian early text,” Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible (3rd rev. ed.; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012), 75. A. Tal and M. Florentin provide a convenient list of variants, The Pentateuch: The Samaritan Version and the Masoretic Version (Hebrew) (Tel Aviv: The Haim Rubin Tel Aviv University, 2010), 25–38. 10 For an overview of small linguistic corrections (or updates), the removal of orthographic peculiarities, grammatical adaptations, and phonological changes in the SP, see Tov, Textual Criticism, 82–87. 11 The prehistory of this passage is a topic in and of itself. Dexinger, for example, conjectures that the text of what became the Samaritan Tenth Commandment may have first circulated independently from the pentateuchal text, perhaps in the liturgy, “Garizimgebot,” 127. Such a scenario is quite possible, but the subject lies beyond the scope of this essay. 12 E.g., J. Bowman and S. Talmon, “Samaritan Decalogue Inscriptions,” BJRL 33 (1951): 211–33. It seems likely that some of these inscriptions, dating to various times, originally functioned as mězûzôt either in private homes or in synagogues, J. Naveh, “Did Ancient Samaritan Inscriptions Belong to Synagogues?” in Ancient Synagogues in Israel: Third–Seventh Century C.E.: Proceedings of Symposium, University of Hafia [i.e. Haifa], May 1987 (ed. R. Hachlili; BAR International Series 499; Oxford: B.A.R., 1989), 61–63. 13 Here, one must draw a distinction between Jewish tradition and Samaritan tradition. See A. E. Cowley, The Samaritan Liturgy (2 vols.; Oxford: Clarendon, 1909); H. G. K ippenberg, 9 The
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fronted with a paradox. The commandment may be distinctive to the Samaritan Pentateuch, but its content is not. The passage is made up almost entirely of other pentateuchal texts that Samaritans share with Jews. Thus, Ben-Hayyim ˙ has inquired as to why this supplement was added at all.14 If the text repeats information found elsewhere in the Pentateuch and lacks any mention of the Samaritan temple, why would Samaritan scribes compose this passage and introduce it into the Ten Commandments? Ben-Hayyim’s answer is that the commandment was composed at some point ˙ before the end of the second century CE as a response to the rise of heretics, to be specific Christians, who viewed the Decalogue as an excellent summary of and, practically speaking, a substitute for observing the full demands of the Torah.15 If Christians were going to substitute the Ten Words for the entire Torah, they would have to do so by honoring the Torah’s instructions remanding Israelites to Mt. Gerizim for Torah inscription, altar construction, public feasting, and corporate sacrifices. Ben-Hayyim thus disagrees with the view of ˙ Dexinger, who contends that the tenth commandment was composed as a reaction to the destruction of the Samaritan temple by John Hyrcanus in the late 2nd century BCE.16 I would agree with Ben-Hayyim that the commandment’s com˙ position presupposes a time in which the Ten Commandments were held in an especially high regard in both Jewish and Samaritan circles. The highlighting of particular texts, especially the Shemaʿ and the Decalogue, from at least the second century BCE until the second century CE is evinced in a variety of early Jewish extra-biblical sources, such as the Nash Papyrus, the Letter of Aristeas (line 158), the Qumran finds (Mezuzah A–G; 4Q149–155; Mezuzah; 8Q4), Josephus (Ant. 4.213), Philo (Spec. 4.142), and Pseudo-Philo (LAB 11–19).17 Garizim und Synagoge (RVV 30; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1971); R. P ummer, The Samaritans: A Profile (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), 100–1, 175–76, 222–23. E.g., the Wednesday in the Festival of Weeks is termed the “Day of Reading (the Torah)” ( )יום מקרתהor the “Day of Standing on Mount Sinai” ()יום מעמד על הר סיני, because on this day Samaritans celebrate the divine revelation of the Ten Commandments to Moses. During the reading of all of the Torah in a liturgical service marking this special day, the high priest lifts up the Torah scroll, when each of each of the Ten Commandments is recited. The Sabbath immediately preceding Shavuot is entitled the “Sabbath of the Ten Commandments” ()שבת עשרת הדברים, Pummer, Samaritans, 261–62. On the more complex case of the history of the Decalogue in Jewish tradition, please see below. 14 Ben-Hayyim, “Tenth Commandment,” 491. ˙ ayyim, “Tenth Commandment,” 491–92. 15 Ben-H ˙ 16 Dexinger, “Garizimgebot,” 126–27. 17 W. F. A lbright, “A Biblical Fragment from the Maccabean Age: The Nash Papyrus,” JBL 56 (1937): 145–76; M. Greenberg, “Nash Papyrus,” Enc. Jud. 14 (2007): 783–84. One of the excerpted texts found at Qumran, employed for liturgical purposes or for study (4QDeutn) includes Deut 8:5–10 and 5:1–6:1 in that order. See S. W. Crawford, “4QDeutn (Pls. XXVIII– XIX),” in Qumran Cave 4. Vol. 9, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Kings (ed. E. C. Ulrich, F. M. Cross, et al.; DJD 14; Oxford: Clarendon, 1995), 117–28; eadem, Rewriting Scripture in Second Temple Times (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 30–35.
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At Qumran, the mězûzôt always include the Shemaʿ, but include other texts as well, such as the Ten Words and additional selections from Deuteronomy 6. Two of the eight mězûzôt discovered at Qumran contain Decalogue portions.18 Among the passages attested in the phylacteries at Qumran are Deut 5:1–6:9 (the Decalogue and the first paragraph of the Shemaʿ), Deut 10:12–11:21, and Exod 12:43–13:16. The Decalogue or its frame appear in 1QPhyl (Deut 5:1–21, 23–27), 4QPhyl A (Deut 5:1–14), 4QPhyl B (Deut 5:1–6:5), 4QPhyl G (Deut 5:1–21), 4QPhyl J (Deut 5:1–32), 4QPhyl L (Deut 5:7–24), 8QPhyl Group III (Deut 5:1–14), and XQPhyl 3 (Deut 5:1–21). Evidence from the Mishnah indicates that the Decalogue, the Shemaʿ, and Deut 11:13–21 were read as part of the morning temple prayer service (m. Tamid 5.1). There is also some indication of the liturgical use of the Decalogue outside of the temple (y. Ber. 1:8, 3c; cf. b. Ber. 12a; Men. 34a–37b, 42b–43b). Eventually, the use of the Decalogue was discouraged in Jewish liturgical services, because of the claims made by the minim that the Ten Commandments were the only commandments given to Moses on Mt. Sinai (y. Ber. 1:4; b. Ber. 12a).19 Hence, the privileging of the Decalogue, which evidently continued in Samaritan circles, was largely discontinued in Jewish circles.20 Nevertheless, I am unsure whether the rise of Christianity was the main or, at least, the only reason for the composition of the material comprising the Samaritan tenth word. My study argues that the clear content and coherent structure of this commandment provide critical clues about the reasons for its composition. In what follows, I would like to pursue the conjunction between literary indebtedness and authorial creativity, that is, the changes effected by the choices Samaritan scribes made in selectively citing complex writings and in organizing these citations, when inserting them into an entirely new literary context. In such a compositional process, older texts recycled from different contexts take on new meaning, when placed together in a new setting. The inclusion of a new pericope within two critical literary contexts affects the reading of the various passages from which it draws. 18 J. D uncan, “Book of Deuteronomy,” in The Encyclopedia of the Dead Sea Scrolls (2 vols.; ed. L. H. Schiffman and J. C. VanderKam; New York: Oxford University Press, 2000), 198– 202. 19 See further D. Lincicum, Paul and the Early Jewish Encounter with Deuteronomy (WUNT II/284; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010), 42–44; G. N. K noppers, Jews and Samaritans: The Origins and History of Their Early Relations (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013), 293. 20 The comment of St. Jerome about Ezek 24:15, namely that the Babylonian Jews placed the Ten Words on tiny parchments around their heads indicates that the Decalogue still occupied a privileged position in this diaspora community during his time. See M. Greenberg et al., “Decalogue,” EncJud 5 (2007): 520–26; St. Jerome: Commentary on Ezekiel (ed. T. P. Scheck; Ancient Christian Writers 71; New York: Newman Press, 2017), 274–75.
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The discussion will begin with some general comments about the tenth commandment – its content and organization – before turning to the pentateuchal sources evident in its composition. Attention will be paid, as well, to pentateuchal texts that speak of Mt. Gerizim’s importance, but which are not employed in composing the commandment. I wish to argue that both the inclusions and the exclusions may be illumined by Jewish-Samaritan debates in the last centuries BCE and the first centuries CE. The claims made in biblical and post-biblical texts about how the Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal commands in Deuteronomy are to be construed shed light on what texts appear in the Samaritan tenth commandment.21 In comparing this Samaritan text to Judean texts that expound, rewrite, and supplement the Deuteronomy Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal instructions, I do not wish, however, to set up the Samaritan interpretations and the Judean interpretations, according to strictly binary categories. The uniformity that the use of such binary categories assumes does not seem to have existed in either tradition.22 Diversity characterizes both groups. The text of the Pentateuch that both groups shared, albeit with a few critical variants, presented exegetical challenges for both Judean scribes and Samaritan scribes and the techniques they developed in dealing with these challenges show significant overlap.
I. Clarity, Focus, and Balance: The Samaritan Tenth Commandment The tenth word in the Samaritan scriptures is clearly phrased, focused, and balanced.23 It contains two major sets of instructions each of which is introduced by a temporal condition, informing Israelites about when to activate the divine instructions they are receiving, and a final closing statement, identifying the precise location of the proceedings the Israelites are to observe in the land.
21 Early Samaritan-Christian relations may also play a role in this process, but gaining a clear sense of this dynamic is challenging, given the limitations of our literary and epigraphic evidence. In general, see R. P ummer, Early Christian Authors on Samaritans and Samaritanism (TSAJ 92; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002). 22 Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 102–34, 169–216. 23 In spite of the addition Samaritan scribes made to an older version of the Decalogue, the summary number of ten endures, because Samaritans consider the first commandment, as presented in Jewish tradition (Exod 20:2//Deut 5:6), to be an introduction to the Decalogue. The interpretation and categorization of Exod 20:2–17 (//Deut 5:1–18) as the “ten words” ()עשרת הדברים, however one enumerates those words, is embedded within the Pentateuch itself (Exod 34:28; Deut 4:13; 10:4).
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The Samaritan Tenth Commandment Exod 20:13ו–א//Deut 5:17ח–א והיה כי יביאך יהוה אלהיך אל ארץ הכנעני אשר אתה בא שמה לרשתה והקמת לך אבנים גדלות ושדת אתם בשיד וכתבת על האבנים את כל דברי התורה הזאת והיה בעברכם את הירדן תקימו את האבנים האלה אשר אנכי מצוה אתכם היום בהרגריזים ובנית שם מזבח ליהוה אלהיך מזבח אבנים לא תניף עליהם ברזל אבנים שלמות תבנה את מזבח יהוה אלהיך והעלית עליו עלות ליהוה אלהיך וזבחת שלמים ואכלת שם ושמחת לפני יהוה אלהיך ההר ההוא בעבר הירדן אחרי דרך מבוא השמש בארץ הכנעני הישב בערבה מול הגלגל אצל אלון מורא מול שכם Translation When the LORD your God brings you into the land of the Canaanites, which you are going there to possess, you will erect for yourself large stones and you will coat them with lime and you will write upon the stones all the words of this torah. And when you cross the Jordan, you will erect these stones about which I am commanding you this day upon Mount Gerizim. And you will build there an altar to the LORD your God, an altar of stones. Do not wield (an) iron (tool) upon them. (Of) whole stones you will build the altar of the LORD your God. And you will offer upon it burnt offerings to the LORD your God. And you will sacrifice well-being offerings and you will feast there and rejoice before the LORD your God. That very mountain is across the Jordan beyond the westward road in the land of the Canaanites, who reside in the Arabah opposite Gilgal, next to the oak of Mura, opposite Shechem.
The first major instruction mandates setting up a stela of large stones in the land of the Canaanites, while the second major instruction mandates setting up an altar at Mt. Gerizim. Each section contains further details about timing, location, and usage affecting the implementation of the main command. In the first case, that of the stela, the detailed instructions specify using large stones, coating the stones with lime, and writing all the words of the torah upon the stones.24 The first major instruction also contains a temporal condition that further specifies the temporal condition opening the tenth commandment itself. The Israelites are to erect these stones at Mount Gerizim after they cross the Jordan. I wish to return to the issue of repetition later. The second major instruction mandates building an altar for Yhwh at the same site, consisting of whole stones, unwrought by iron, upon which the Is raelites are to sacrifice burnt offerings and well-being offerings. The second set of instructions also directs the Israelites to public feasting and rejoicing before 24 In this particular text and in several others, mostly found within the framework of Deuteronomy (Deut 1:5; 4:8, 44; 17:11, 18, 19; 27:3, 8, 26; 28:58, 61; 29:20, 28; 30:10; 31:9, 11, 12; 32:46), the law collection of Deuteronomy is self-referentially spoken of as “this instruction,” G. Braulik, “Die Ausdrücke für ‘Gesetz’ im Buch Deuteronomium,” Bib 51 (1970): 39–66; B. Lindars, “Torah in Deuteronomy,” in Words and Meanings: Essays Presented to David Winton Thomas (ed. P. R. Ackroyd and B. Lindars; London: Cambridge University Press, 1968), 117–36; A. D. H. Mayes, Deuteronomy (NCB; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979), 116–17; B. M. Levinson, Deuteronomy and the Hermeneutics of Legal Innovation (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), 151–57; E. Otto, Deuteronomium 1–11 (2 vols.; HThKAT; Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 2012), 1. Within the literary context of the Pentateuch, the self-reference to the Torah takes on a wider significance.
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Yhwh at Mt. Gerizim. A focus on worship at Mt. Gerizim balances the earlier focus on inscribing all of the terms of the Torah at Mt. Gerizim. Indeed, since the Torah prescribes an altar on Mt. Gerizim, the stress on corporate worship there fulfills one of the dictates of the Torah. A long topographical explanation concludes the passage, specifying the precise location of Mt. Gerizim from the vantage point of Israelites, who are encamped on the Steppes of Moab in the Trans-Jordan.25 The beginning and end of the text constitute an inclusio, locating the proceedings in ארץ הכנעני, “the land of the Canaanites.”26 In one respect, this structure resembles the organization of Deuteronomy. There, the editors enclose the central law code with demands for public ceremonies to be held at Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal.
Ceremonies at Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal Framing the Deuteronomic Law Code A The Blessing at Gerizim and the Curse at Ebal (11:29–30) B Introduction to the Law Collection (11:31–12:1) C Laws of the Covenant (12:2–26:15) B1 Conclusion to the Law Collection (26:16–19) A1 Ceremonies at Gerizim and Ebal (27:1–26)
In Deuteronomy the mandate for public liturgies in the land at Mts. Gerizim and Ebal contextualizes the laws the Israelites are to observe in the land that God is graciously giving to them. Similarly, in composing the Samaritan tenth commandment, the editors employ temporal and geographical information to contextualize the two main commands. It would have been very easy for the writers to preface all of the circumstantial information from Deut 11:29–30 at the beginning of the passage.27 That they did not to do so, but rather chose to split the two suggests a deliberate literary strategy that draws attention to the source of their own innovation.
Ceremonies at Mt. Gerizim in the Tenth Commandment (Exod 20:13ו–א//Deut 5:17)ח–א A Preamble: Entrance into the Land of Canaan (Exod 20:13א//Deut 5:17)א B Inscribing the Torah on Large Stones (Exod 20:13ג–א//Deut 5:17)ד–ב B1 Building an Altar and Sacrificing at Mt. Gerizim (Exod 20:13ו–ד//Deut 5:17)ז–ה A1 Closing: Location of Mt. Gerizim in the Land of Canaan (Exod 20:13ו//Deut 5:17)ח 25 The concluding phrase “opposite Shechem” ( ) מול שכםonly appears within the SP and related Samaritan literature (an expansion of clarification). 26 On the “land of Canaanites” as the specific destiny of the exodus journey, see Exod 3:17; 13:5, 11; 23:23; Deut 1:7; 11:30 (cf. Exod 3:8). 27 In so doing, they deliberately separate Deut 11:29 from 11:30. Please see further below.
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II. The Pentateuchal Sources Used to Generate a New Pentateuchal Composition We have seen that the content of the Samaritan tenth word is clear and well-organized, but the same cannot be said for the sources from which it draws. With the exception of the short citation from Exod 13:11a, almost all of the material in this commandment is borrowed from two other texts in the Pentateuch: Deut 11:29–30 and 27:2–7.28 At the outset, it has to be stressed that Samaritan scribes maintain a both/and, rather than an either/or, approach in citing and reusing older sources. In only one or at most two instances is a phrase rewritten or supplemented to clarify a particular issue. Otherwise, the individual lemmata are unaltered, when they are inserted into new literary contexts.29 The literary technique employed is, therefore, similar to that employed in the expansionistic pre-Samaritan pentateuchal manuscripts of the DSS.30 In these textual witnesses, additions are made to pentateuchal narratives, based on narrative texts found elsewhere in the Pentateuch. The scribes responsible for these textual insertions duplicated passages from one context to address what they evidently considered to be gaps in a related context. The literary method always involves addition, not subtraction, to create a more consistent and coherent text. Although these textual witnesses are called pre-Samaritan because of their expansionistic tendencies, they are hardly unique to the Samaritan textual tradition. There are, moreover, cases within the pre-Samaritan manuscripts in which a textual witness has more expansionistic additions than does the corresponding SP.31 The so-called pre-Samaritan manuscripts were found, after all, among the Judean pentateuchal witnesses at Qumran. Both Jews and Samaritans shared some fundamental assumptions about the unity and integrity of scripture. One has to recognize, then, that both Judean and Samarian scribes saw fit to employ 28 According to most scholars, the beginning of the SP tenth commandment borrows from Deut 11:29a ()והיה כי יביאך יהוה אלהיך אל הארץ, but that text makes no mention of the Canaanites. The available text-critical evidence for Deut 11:29 does not indicate any evidence of the lemma הכנעניin SP MSS, A. von Gall, Der hebräische Pentateuch der Samaritaner (Giessen: Alfred Töpelmann, 1914–1918), 390. I am following Dexinger, who contends that the correct source for the quotation is Exod 13:11 ()והיה כי יבאך יהוה אל ארץ הכנעני, “Garizimgebot,” 111–33 (126–27). See also Pummer, “Samaritans and Their Pentateuch,” 237–69 (244–45). To put the matter differently, if one wishes to argue that the source is Deut 11:29a, the phrase אל ארץ הכנעני should be understood as a Samaritan scribal addition. 29 J. H. Tigay, “Conflation as a Redactional Technique,” in Empirical Models for Biblical Criticism (ed. J. H. Tigay; Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1985), 78–83; Himbaza, Décalogue, 63–66, 183–86, 198–219. 30 Purvis, Samaritan Pentateuch, 80; Tov, Textual Criticism, 74–93; Crawford, Rewriting Scripture, 30–35. 31 See the detailed analysis of E. Eshel and H. Eshel, “Dating the Samaritan Pentateuch’s ˙ Compilation in Light of the Qumran Biblical Scrolls,” in Emanuel: Studies in Hebrew Bible, Septuagint, and Dead Sea Scrolls in Honor of Emanuel Tov (ed. S.M. Paul et al.; VTSup 94; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 215–40, although I do not agree with all of their conclusions.
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this literary method to create greater unity and consistency both within individual books and within the Pentateuch as a whole.32 In the case of the Samaritan tenth commandment, the scribes employ this technique, but boldly go beyond it in three ways. First, they draw upon and redeploy both narrative and legal texts. The so-called pre-Samaritan pluses in the DSS occur mostly, if not entirely, in narrative settings. Second, they excerpt selections from different sources to create an extended pericope in a new literary context. Employing material from Exodus and Deuteronomy, they selectively mine this older material, copy the readings of interest to them, place the citations in a preferred sequence, and create a new block of material, which they insert into two nearly identical literary contexts. Third, they rearrange some of the material they borrow, separating the selection taken from Deut 11:29 from its continuation in Deut 11:30 and transposing the quotation of Deut 11:30 to the conclusion of the new passage they create. The result is a textual addition manifesting a new literary sequence different from the sequence found in any one of the sources from which the scribes borrow. Although such textual rearrangements are unattested elsewhere in the legal material found within the Samaritan Pentateuch, they are amply attested in the 4Q (reworked) Pentateuch manuscripts, the Temple Scroll, and the presentation of biblical law found in Josephus’s Judean Antiquities.33 Given the profound indebtedness of the new passage to preexisting texts, one must discern its force by examining carefully the selections and their rearrangement in the new context in which the material was inserted. When one scrutinizes the texts speaking of public ceremonies at Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal (Deut 11:29–30; 27:1–26), it becomes quite apparent that Samaritan scribes chose only a small portion of the material available to them. What the writers chose not to include is, therefore, perhaps as relevant as what they chose to include.
The Samaritan Tenth Commandment and its Sources Literary Context of Source
Source of Quotation
והיה כי יביאך יהוה אלהיךExod 13:11 אל ארץ הכנעני כאשר נשבע לך ולאבתיך ונתנה לך
Text והיה כי יביאך יהוה אלהיך אל ארץ הכנעני
SP Citation Exod 20:13 ;אDeut 5:17א
32 The method is employed, however, only in certain cases. It is, by no means, applied systematically throughout the Pentateuch. 33 Even so, the literary rearrangement is internal to the Tenth Commandment itself and does not result in either a rearrangement within the source (Deut 11:29–30) or a loss of text in that source. On the issues, see further Zahn, Rewritten Scripture, 25–134, 179–228.
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; DeutאExod 20:13 א5:17
אשר אתה בא שמה לרשתה
; DeutאExod 20:13 ב5:17
והקמת לך אבנים גדלות ושדת אתם בשיד
Deut 27:2והיה ביום אשר תעברו את הירדן אל הארץ אשר יהוה אלהיך נתן לך והקמת לך אבנים גדלות ושדת אתם בשיד
; DeutבExod 20:13 ג5:17
וכתבת על האבנים 34את כל דברי התורה הזאת
Deut 27:3וכתבת עליהן את כל דברי התורה הזאת בעברך למען אשר תבוא אל הארץ אשר יהוה אלהיך נתן לך ארץ זבת חלב ודבש כאשר דבר יהוה אלהי אבותיך לך
; Deutג Exod 20:13והיה בעברכם את הירדן ד 5:17תקימו את האבנים האלה אשר אנכי מצוה אתכם היום בהרגריזים
Deut 11:29והיה כי יביאך יהוה אלהיך אל הארץ אשר אתה בא שמה לרשתה ונתתה את הברכה על הר גריזים ואת הקללה על הר עיבל
Deut 27:4והיה בעברכם את הירדן תקימו את האבנים האלה אשר אנכי מצוה אתכם היום בהרגריזים ושדת אתם בשיד
; Deutד Exod 20:13ובנית שם מזבח ליהוה ה 5:17אלהיך מזבח אבנים לא תניף עליהם ברזל
Deut 27:5
ובנית שם מזבח ליהוה אלהיך מזבח אבנים לא תניף עליהם ברזל
; Deutה Exod 20:13אבנים שלמות תבנה את ו 5:17מזבח יהוה אלהיך
Deut 27:6a
אבנים שלמות תבנה את מזבח יהוה אלהיך
; Deutה Exod 20:13והעלית עליו עלות ליהוה ו 5:17אלהיך
Deut 27:6b
והעלית עליו עלות ליהוה אלהיך
; Deutו Exod 20:13וזבחת שלמים ואכלת שם ז 5:17ושמחת לפני יהוה אלהיך
Deut 27:7
וזבחת שלמים ואכלת שם ושמחת לפני יהוה אלהיך
; Deutו Exod 20:13ההר ההוא בעבר הירדן ח 5:17אחרי דרך מבוא השמש בארץ הכנעני הישב בערבה מול הגלגל אצל אלון מורא מול שכם
Deut 11:30
הלוא הם בעבר הירדן אחרי דרך מבוא השמש בארץ הכנעני הישב בערבה מול הגלגל אצל אלון מורא מול שכם
34 Of the first passage, remanding Israelites to Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal for the pronouncement of the blessing on Mt. Gerizim and the curse on Mt. Ebal (Deut 11:29–30), the writers extract part of the temporal condition and most of the 34 MT, SP, Sam. Tg., Vg., Tg. Neof., Tg. Onq., Tg. Ps.-J. Deut 27:3 have the preposition with , rather than the preposition with the noun, as in both inעליהן ”the pronoun, “upon them, , “upon the stones.” But LXX Deut 27:3על האבנים stances of the SP tenth commandment, agrees, in this case, with the text of the Samaritan tenth commandment (ἐπὶ τῶν λίθων).
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long topographical note explaining Mt. Gerizim’s location. No mention is made of the instruction commanding the Israelites to pronounce the blessing upon Mt. Gerizim and the curse at Mt. Ebal.35 Considering that the command for a blessing upon Mt. Gerizim is quite favorable to this particular site, its non-inclusion in the tenth commandment bears further investigation.36 The second source text, Deuteronomy 27, features a detailed series of instructions from a variety of authorities: 1) Moses and the elders of Israel, 2) Moses and the Levitical priests, and 3) Moses alone, who call for various corporate rites, when the Israelites arrive in the land.
Outline of Deuteronomy 27 Section
Speaker(s)
Action(s) in the Land
Deut 27:1–8
Moses accompanied by the elders of Israel
Setting up large stones and an altar of whole stones. Inscription of all the terms of the torah upon the stones.
Deut 27:9–10
Moses and the Levitical priests
Having become a people to Yhwh this day, Israel is summoned to observe His commandments
Deut 27:11–13 Moses
Twofold division of the tribes for the blessing on Mt. Gerizim and the curse on Mt. Ebal
Deut 27:14–26 (Moses)
Levitical-led Israelite antiphonal liturgy affirming 12 anathemas
From this long series of directives, Samaritan scribes chose to excerpt only one portion for inclusion in the new text – the first of the sections outlined above (vv. 1–8). Even so, only particular portions of the source are reused in composing the new passage. That the quotations do not include 27:1, which introduces the instructions that follow (in vv. 2–8) as coming from Moses (accompanied by the Israelite elders), means that the borrowed material from vv. 2–7, along with the selections from Exodus 13 and Deuteronomy 11, all become part of one 35 If one wishes to exclude any mention of Mt. Ebal, one can readily understand the omission of the pronouncement of the curse at that site. The exclusion of the positive sanction upon Mt. Gerizim is, however, curious, given the tremendous affection for Mt. Gerizim in Samaritan tradition. See also Dexinger, “Garizimgebot,” 111–33. 36 One of the Mt. Gerizim inscriptions refers to [ טורא ט]ב[א, which may be translated as the “good mountain,” or alternatively as Tura Taba (a toponym; Josephus, Ant. 18.86). See Y. Ma˙ ˙ gen, Y., H. M isgav, and L. Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations, I: The Aramaic, Hebrew and Samaritan Inscriptions (JSP 2; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 2004), no. 11 (p. 57). In Memar Marqah 2.10, Mt. Gerizim appears as “this good mountain” (cf. MT and SP Deut 3:25 ; ההר הטוב הזהLXX τὸ ὄρος τοῦτο τὸ ἀγαθὸν). See also Memar Marqah 94a (alluding to Deut 6:13), “Yhwh your God you will fear and you will serve him on the Good Mountain.”
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larger direct discourse from Yhwh to the people of Israel. To put the matter simply, the commands of Moses become the commands of God.37 Moreover, since the Ten Commandments are the only commandments Yhwh communicates directly to the Israelite people at Mt. Sinai (Exod 20:1–17//Deut 5:1–18), the inclusion of the cited material within the Ten Commandments elevates it to a new status within pentateuchal law. Other sections not selected from Deut 27:1–26 include the declaration from Moses and the Levitical priests to “all Israel,” informing them that “this day” they have become a people belonging to Yhwh (Deut 27:9). The assurance echoes earlier divine declarations uttered at Mt. Sinai (Exod 19:5–6) and on the Steppes of Moab (Deut 26:6–7).38 Given that the people were previously instructed to “write down all of the terms of the torah” on the stones the people were to assemble (Deut 27:4, 8), the ensuing directive to observe the commandments and statutes of Yhwh, which Moses is commanding “this day” (Deut 27:10), takes on an added relevance. Also missing from the selection is the command of Moses to divide the twelve tribes into two groups of six to stand for the blessing of the people on Mt. Gerizim and the others for the curse at Mt. Ebal (Deut 27:11–13). Finally, the citation lacks any reference whatsoever to the antiphonal liturgy of twelve execrations led by the Levites (Deut 27:14–26). To summarize, there is good deal of material in Deuteronomy 27 – important to underscoring the position of Mt. Gerizim – that the writers could have used in their new composition but did not do so. The closing statement basically reproduces the extensive geographical annotation that locates the mountains of Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal (from the perspective of the Israelite people encamped on the Steppes of Moab) as “beyond the Jordan” (Deut 11:30), but the writers make two telling changes. The first accommodates the fact that the text mentions only one mountain – Mt. Gerizim.39 The Samaritan tenth word nowhere mentions Mt. Ebal, which features prominently as a site for communal sacrifice in texts, such as MT Deuteronomy, Joshua, and Josephus’s Antiquitates Judaicae.40 In fact, as we have seen (previous chapter), the Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum of Pseudo-Philo makes no reference to Mt. Gerizim whatsoever, either in its synopsis of biblical law (LAB 11–19) or in its narration of early Israel’s emergence in the land (LAB 20–24). Within the context of Judean-Samaritan debates, the Samaritan scribes respon37 Although the text lists Moses as being accompanied by the Israelite elders, it is Moses who delivers (sg. verbs) the commands (Deut 27:1). 38 On the use of the covenant formulary (27:9–10), see E. O tto, Deuteronomium 12–34 (2 vols.; HThKAT Freiburg: Herder, 2016), 2.1923–24, 1929–30. 39 Given that all of the relevant activities are to occur at a single site, it no longer becomes necessary to refer to the locations of both Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal. 40 The work of Pseudo-Philo presents Mt. Ebal as a site of communal gathering, Torah inscription and recitation, but not of communal sacrifice (LAB 21.7–8).
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sible for composing the tenth word respond to their Judean interlocutors both by ignoring Mt. Ebal and by upholding the centrality of Mt. Gerizim. The scribes substitute “that very mountain” ( )ההר ההואfor the introductory query in Deut 11:30 “are they not” (MT ;הלא־המהSP )הלוא הם. The choice of the regular singular noun with the article ( )ההרmodified by the deictic pronoun with the article ( )ההואto substitute for the plural negative interlocutory phrase (MT ;הלא־המהSP )הלוא הםclearly refers to the antecedent Mt. Gerizim earlier in the passage (SP Exod 20:13ג//Deut 5:17)ד. A rhetorical question about the location of two mountains becomes an emphatic declaration about one. The tenth commandment thus upholds a single-minded focus on Mt. Gerizim. The second change is an expansion of specification, “opposite Shechem” ( )מול שכםat the end of Deut 11:30.41 This plus, which occurs in both versions of the Samaritan tenth commandment, identifies the location of Mt. Gerizim as being clearly situated in the central hill country, not in some other geographical location, such as the Jordan Rift.42 I wish to return to this matter later.
III. Judean Interpretations of Deuteronomy and the Status of Mt. Gerizim Judean discourses about the very passages we have been discussing (Deut 11:29– 30; 27:1–26) in the last centuries BCE and the first centuries CE will shed light on the choices Samaritan scribes made in selecting material for inclusion into the tenth commandment. It may be suggested that the particular Samaritan editors responsible for composing the tenth word were aware of competing interpretations of critical passages and wished both to clarify core Samaritan positions and to contest opposing views. In what follows, I wish to discuss briefly a few of these texts – the Judean version of Deuteronomy, the biblical book of 41 I am reading with the MT and the LXX (lectio brevior). It seems likely that this small expansion was first added to Deut 11:30 before elements of Deut 11:30 were incorporated into the Samaritan tenth word. The expansion occurs in the SP, Sam Tg., and related Samaritan literature. While the witness of 4QpaleoDeutr for the text is fragmentary, space considerations suggest that it did not contain the SP expansion, E. C. Ulrich, The Biblical Qumran Scrolls: Transcriptions and Textual Variants (VTSup 134; Leiden: Brill, 2010), 207. For a spiri ted defense of the SP lemma that calls attention to the awareness of some late antique authori ties that Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal were located in the central hills, see A. Schenker, “An Original Reading of the Samaritan Pentateuch in Deut 11,30: Yerushalmi, Eusebius’s Onomasticon, Jerome, 4QJosha,” in A Pillar of Cloud to Guide: Text-critical, Redactional, and Linguistic Perspectives on the Old Testament in Honour of Marc Vervenne (ed. H. Ausloos and B. Lemmelijn; BETL 269; Leuven: Peeters, 2014), 437–47. 42 G. N. K noppers, “The Sacred Sites of Gilgal, Mt. Gerizim, and Mt. Ebal and their Sacred Rites: Evidence from the Masoretic Text, the Samaritan Pentateuch, and the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Samaritans and Their Pentateuch (ed. C. Nihan; University Park, PA: Penn State University Press/Eisenbrauns, forthcoming).
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Joshua, 4QJoshuaa, the Judean Antiquities of Josephus, and the Biblical Antiquities of Pseudo-Philo – with reference to the competing construction found in the Samaritan tenth word. The first thing to point out about the Masoretic versions of Deut 11:29–30 and 27:1–26 is that they are very similar to the Samaritan versions.43 The most distinctive textual variant between the two versions is “on Mt. Gerizim” ( )בהרגריזיםin SP Deut 27:4, as opposed to “on Mt. Ebal” ( )בהר עיבלin the MT.44 Given the close similarities between the two texts, one can better understand why Samaritan scribes did not feel compelled to incorporate some important parts of the public liturgies outlined in Deuteronomy 11 and 27 into the Decalogue. The blessing to be bestowed at Mt. Gerizim (Deut 11:29; 27:11–13) is uncontested insofar as it is included in all of the versions of Deuteronomy available to us. As such, it comprises part of the shared patrimony of Jews and Samaritans. Similar things may be said of the other commands given by Moses and the Levitical priests (Deut 27:9–10) and by Moses to the Levites and every person in Israel (27:14–26). These instructions comprise part of the heritage of both groups, even if interpretations of the instructions may vary among their members. The reading of Mt. Ebal in MT Deut 27:4 is, however, another matter. This lemma, which is also critical to the MT (Josh 8:30–35) and LXX Joshua (9:2a–f) accounts of public celebrations in the land, situates from a Samaritan perspective the construction of an altar and the first sacrifices in the land at the wrong place, namely the mountain of the curse.45 Given the significance of Mt. Gerizim to Samaritan identity, it is quite understandable that the site is repeatedly mentioned or alluded to in the Samaritan tenth commandment. To clarify the matter, Mt. Ebal is never mentioned or alluded to in this material.46 Other selections, as well as non-selections, show an acute awareness of exegetical issues in ascertaining the meaning of the instructions guiding the Israelites as they prepare to enter the promised land. The non-inclusion of Deut 27:2a, “on the day you cross the Jordan ( )והיה ביום אשר תעברו את הירדןinto the land Yhwh 43 On the textual variants, see C. McCarthy, “Samaritan Pentateuch Readings in Deuteronomy,” in Biblical and Near Eastern Essays (ed. C. McCarthy and J. F. Healey; JSOTSup 375; London: T. & T. Clark, 2004), 118–30; idem, ;אלה הדבריםDeuteronomy (BHQ 5; Stuttgart: German Bible Society, 2007), 122*–23*; Tal and Florentin, Pentateuch, 559–63; Otto, Deuteronomium 12–34, 1919–21. 44 On the plus “opposite Shechem” ( )מול שכםin SP Deut 11:30, see section II above. 45 In Deut 27:4, the SP reading of הרגריזיםis supported by Papyrus Giessen 19 (argar[i]zim), the Samareitikon (argarizim), and the OL (in monte Garzin). The MT ( )הר עיבלand most witnesses to the LXX (ὄρει Γαιβαλ) read Mt. Ebal. See further Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 202–3. 46 Precisely because the texts the writers incorporate from Exodus and Deuteronomy into the new pericope make no mention whatsoever of Mt. Ebal, the writers could not retain the plural pronoun “they” ( ;הםSP Deut 11:30) of their source, if they wished to maintain consistency.
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your God is giving you,” is important, because it decouples the schedule of implementing the command to erect large stones and to plaster them from the very day the Israelites cross the Jordan to a more indefinite time, “when Yhwh your God brings you into the land of the Canaanites” (והיה כי יביאך יהוה אלהיך אל ארץ ; הכנעניSP Exod 20:13א//Deut 5:17)א. The directive to erect large stones and to plaster them remains, but it no longer follows the restrictive temporal subordinate clause, which opens Deut 27:2.47 The non-inclusion of Deut 27:3, “And you will write upon them all the words of this torah when you have crossed ( )בעברךso that you may enter the land ()למען אשר תבוא אל הארץ, the land, which Yhwh your God is giving you, a land flowing with milk and honey, as Yhwh the God of your ancestors promised you,” has a similar effect, because the command of Deut 27:3 seemingly links the timing of the stones’ inscription to the moment when the Israelites cross the river.48 The ritual act of setting up large stones and inscribing them seems to be, therefore, distinct from and antecedent to the corporate act of entering into the land. Because the result clause (introduced by )למעןprovides the rationale for the injunction, namely (safe) passage for the Israelites into the promised land, it could be interpreted as distancing the area in which the Israelites are to inscribe and set up the stones from the main act of entering the land itself. On the basis of this literary evidence, some early Jewish and Christian interpreters situated Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Ebal in the Jordan Valley near Jericho, the terrain of the Jordan Valley notwithstanding.49 After all, how could the Israelites cross the Jordan River and travel all the way up to the Shechem area in the central hill country in the course of a single day? Similarly, if fulfilling the command to inscribe the torah on large stones is necessary to ensure safe passage into the land, that inscription would have to occur as soon as or soon after the Israelites cross over into the land.50 Such an interpretation may be reflected in fragmentary evidence of 4QJoshuaa (frags. 1–2), which preserves a text corresponding to MT Josh 8:34–35* followed by a line and a half of material unparalleled in the MT and the LXX, and 47 Josephus speaks (Ant. 4.305–308) of the command to erect an altar (τὸν βωμόν τε ἀναστῆσαι) in the area of Shechem, once the Israelites fully conquer the land of the Canaanites (ἐξελόντας δὲ τὴν Χαναναίων γῆν) and utterly destroy all of its inhabitants (καὶ πᾶσαν διαφθείραντας τὴν ἐν αὐτῇ πληθὺν; Ant. 4.305). The exposition of Josephus delays the timing of implementing the altar commands to accommodate the timing of the centralization legislation (Deut 12:10–12), which he rewrites, in turn, to accommodate the timing of building the Jerusalem temple in Samuel-Kings. Hence, his rewriting of biblical law (see my earlier chapter on this topic) does not include any injunction to erect either a stela or an altar, when (or on the day that) the Israelites cross the Jordan. 48 The LXX is similar, but has pl. verbs: ὡς ἂν διαβῆτε (= בעברכם, as in v. 4) and ἡνίκα ἐὰν εἰσέλθητε (for ) תבוא אשר למען, before switching back to the sg. δίδωσίν σοι (= )נתן לך, as in the MT. 49 Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 199–201. 50 Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 203–5.
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the beginning of Josh 5:2 (MT and LXX). In the view of the editor of this mater ial, Eugene Ulrich, the evidence indicates that in 4QJoshuaa, Josh 8:30–35 (MT), marking the fulfillment of the instructions of Deut 27:2–8, was situated between Joshua 4 and 5, probably immediately after 4:18, that is, when the priests bearing the ark emerge from the midst of the Jordan River.51 This would mean that the ceremonies demanded in Deuteronomy were implemented as soon as the Israelites crossed the Jordan. Nevertheless, the Qumran evidence is fragmentary and Ulrich recognizes that perhaps not all of Josh 8:30–35 was actually present in this literary context within 4QJoshuaa.52 A strong proponent of an alternative view is van der Meer, who holds that 4QJoshuaa never portrayed the building of an altar after the crossing of the River Jordan and that the Qumran text (frag. 1) only mentioned writing the torah on the stones (8:32) and its recitation (8:34–35) after 4:18.53 This literary work underscores Israel’s compliance with Moses’ command to plaster the stones and to inscribe them with “all of the words of the torah” (Deut 27:2–3). In this reconstruction, the compliance with the altar demands (Deut 27:4–8) is recounted later in Josh 8:30–35 (not recovered in the manuscript remains), as it appears in 51 One implication of this evidence, as well as evidence from the other fragmentary remains of 4QJoshuaa, is that there may be three different recensions of Joshua attested in the manuscript evidence (MT, LXX, and Qumran), E. C. Ulrich, “4QJoshuaa and Joshua’s First Altar in the Promised Land,” in New Qumran Texts and Studies: Proceedings of the First Meeting of the International Organization for Qumran Studies, Paris 1992 (ed. G. J. Brooke; STDJ 15; Leiden: Brill, 1994), 89–104; idem, “4QJosha (Pls. XXXII–XXXIV),” in Qumran Cave 4: Vol. 9, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Kings (ed. E. C. Ulrich, F. M. Cross, et al.; DJD 14; Oxford: Clarendon, 1995), 143–52; idem, “Joshua’s First Altar in the Promised Land,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Developmental Composition of the Bible (VTSup 169; Leiden: Brill, 2015), 47–65; A. Rofé, “The Editing of the Book of Joshua in the Light of 4QJosha,” in New Qumran Texts and Studies: Proceedings of the First Meeting of the International Organization for Qumran Studies, Paris 1992 (ed. G. J. Brooke; STDJ 15; Leiden: Brill, 1994), 73–80; R. D. Nelson, Joshua: A Commentary (OTL; Louisville: John Knox, 1997), 22–24, 115–20; E. Noort, “The Traditions of Ebal and Gerizim: Theological Positions in the Book of Joshua,” in Deuteronomy and Deuteronomic Literature: Festschrift C. H. W. Brekelmans (ed. M. Vervenne and J. Lust; BETL 133; Leuven: Peeters, 1997), 161–80; idem, “4QJoshua and the History of Tradition in the Book of Joshua,” JNSL 24/2 (1998): 127–44; idem, Das Buch Josua: Forschungsgeschichte und Problemfelder (Erträge der Forschung 292; Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1998), 46–98; A. G. Auld, Joshua Retold: Synoptic Perspectives (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1998), 7–18; 102–12; E. Tov, “The Growth of the Book of Joshua in Light of the Evidence of the Septuagint,” in The Greek and Hebrew Bible: Collected Essays on the Septuagint (VTSup 72; Leiden: Brill, 1999), 385–96 (396); idem, “The Literary Development of the Book of Joshua as Reflected in the Masoretic Text, the LXX, and 4QJosha,” in Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible, Qumran, Septuagint: Collected Essays (VTSup 167; Leiden: Brill, 2015), 132–53; K. de Troyer, “Building the Altar and Reading the Law: The Journeys of Joshua 8:30–35,” in Reading the Present in the Qumran Library: The Perception of the Contemporary by Means of Scriptural Interpretation (ed. K. de Troyer and A. Lange; SBLSymS 30; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2005), 141–62 (157). 52 Ulrich, “4QJoshua a ,” 91. Similarly, Noort, “4QJoshua a and the History of Tradition,” 132–34; de Troyer, “Building the Altar and Reading the Law,” 157. 53 Van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, 511–14.
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the MT.54 If so, the writers of 4QJoshuaa construed the instructions in Deut 27:2–8 as two sets of instructions, as we find in the SP, but interpreted these instructions as entailing two successive sets of public liturgies: one upon crossing into the land, involving the inscription of the Torah (Deut 27:2–3, 8), and the other, involving the construction of an altar at Mt. Ebal (MT Deut 27:4–7).55 The careful formulation of the Samaritan tenth commandment is written to obviate a two-time, two-place understanding of Deuteronomy’s demands. First, both the introduction to the composition and its concluding phraseology specify that the divine commands are to be implemented when the Israelites enter the land of the Canaanites, not before (SP Exod 20:13א, ו//Deut 5:17א, )ח. Second, by positioning Deut 27:4a immediately consequent to Deut 27:2b–3a, the command effectively creates a new lemma that removes any uncertainty in the instructions the Israelites receive. The work clearly associates the first injunction to erect large stones, plaster them, and inscribe them with the injunction to “erect these stones about which I am commanding you this day upon Mount Gerizim” (Deut 27:4a). The Israelites are to set up both the stela of inscribed plastered stones and the altar of whole stones upon Mt. Gerizim. The non-inclusion of Deut 27:4b, ושדת אותם בשיד, “and you will coat them with plaster,” literally, “lime them with lime,” in the text addresses another ambiguity inherent within Deuteronomy’s commands. Not selecting this diktat for inclusion effectively removes any ambiguity in the passage about whether the stones to be plastered also happen to be the altar stones. The literary proximity between the injunction of v. 4b and the following directives about building an altar in vv. 5–7 could suggest such a linkage.56 That some early interpreters could, and indeed did, discern such an association may be seen, for example, in the comments made by Josephus about the central altar mandated in the ancestral constitution (πολιτεία) Moses bequeaths to Israel. Paraphrasing, summarizing, and augmenting Deuteronomy’s centralization legislation, Josephus writes: 54 Yet, if so, that text would have had to include a different version of Josh 8:30–31, 33 than that which appears in MT Josh 8:30–35 and LXX Josh 9:2a–f, because MT and LXX Joshua interpret the legislation of Deut 27:2–8 as involving one primary sequence of actions (erecting an altar of stones, offering sacrifices, and inscribing the altar stones with the torah), not two major rites (erecting a monument of large stones and inscribing them with the torah and erecting an altar of unhewn stones and sacrificing upon this altar). 55 In this view, fragments 1–2 from 4QJoshua a constitute a rewriting of Joshua, rather than an alternative recension vis-à-vis the MT and the LXX, van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, 520–22. Similarly, Schenker, “Original Reading,” 446. Yet, one may ask whether such a creative rewriting of the book, which results, in part, from a variant understanding of Joshua’s source (Deuteronomy), does not become, in effect, an alternative version or edition of the work? 56 On literary proximity and literary sequence as bases to ascertain the meaning of difficult, contested, or unclear texts, see D. I. Brewer, Techniques and Assumptions in Jewish Exegesis before 70 CE (TSAJ 30; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1992), 20; I. Kalimi, Geschichtsschreibung des Chronisten (BZAW 226; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1995), 18–34.
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“Let there be one temple in it [the chosen city] and one altar made from stones that are unworked, but picked, lying together, such that when daubed with plaster will be attractive in appearance and clean to view” (Ant. 4.200).57 In this text, Josephus interprets the plastering requirement found only in the Mt. Gerizim/ Mt. Ebal legislation as pertaining to the altar stones, not to the large monument stones, and applies this requirement to Israel’s central altar.58 In so doing, Josephus is hardly unique among early Jewish interpreters (e.g., m. Mid. 3.4), but this interpretation is neither attested in MT and LXX Joshua nor elsewhere in the altar literature of the Hebrew Bible. There is at least one other instance in which the Samaritan writers of the tenth commandment address an ambiguity in the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal commandments. The lack of any reference to Deut 27:8, “and you will write upon the stones ( )על־האבניםall the words of this Torah very distinctly” (כל דברי התורה הזאת ) באר היטבcan be understood as answering an important exegetical question. Given the immediate literary context in which the Israelites are commanded to build an altar of “whole stones” ( ; אבנים שלמותDeut 27:6), the immediate antecedent to the stones mentioned in v. 8 is the reference to the whole stones employed to construct the altar. Hence, one possible understanding of the injunction of Deut 27:8 is that the Israelites are supposed to inscribe the Torah upon the altar stones. This interpretation construes Deut 27:2–8 as essentially one set of instructions all of which pertain in one way or another to the altar of unhewn stones. Such a reading is reflected in the altar construction at Mt. Ebal depicted in MT Josh 8:30–35 (LXX Josh 9:2a–f): “and he [Joshua] wrote there upon the stones all the words of the copy of the Torah of Moses” ()ויכתב שם על האבנים את משנה תורת משה (MT Josh 8:32). To this point, it might be objected that the stones in Josh 8:32 could refer to the “large stones” ( )אבנים גדלותof Deut 27:2–3, which are to be plastered and then inscribed, rather than to the “whole stones” of the altar in Deut 27:6. After all, how could Joshua inscribe “all the words of the torah” upon uncut altar stones? Yet, the late account of Josh 8:30–35 makes no mention of the Israelites erecting “large stones” or of their plastering them.59 Nor does any in57 This type of major altar construction held true for the temple renovated under Herod the Great, according to Josephus (B.J. 5.225; C. Ap. 1.198). See also Philo, Spec. leg. 1.51.274; Mos. 2.22.106; m. Mid. 3.4. 58 Conversely, he removes the requirement from the altar legislation pertaining to the area of Shechem (Ant. 4.305–308), in all likelihood to avoid the implication that the Shechem area altar was of the central altar type. See further the chapter, “Altared States: Rewriting the Constitution in Josephus’ Antiquitates Judaicae,” elsewhere in this volume. 59 A. G. Auld, “Reading Joshua after Kings,” in Joshua Retold: Synoptic Perspectives (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1998), 102–12 (110). Recently, T. B. Dozeman has offered a dissenting view, contending that Josh 8:30–33 are part and parcel of a pro-northern edition of the book, while 8:34–35 are part of a later conditionalizing redaction, Joshua 1–12 (AB 6b; New Haven: Yale University Press, 2015), 364–96.
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scription occur in the earlier Joshua narrative in which Israelite men, one from each tribe, are commanded to “retrieve twelve stones” ( )הכין שתים עשרה אבניםfrom the Jordan, when the Israelites cross through the river (Josh 4:3, 20–24). 60 The only stones mentioned in the central hill country ceremony are the altar stones (Josh 8:31–32). The clear implication is that Joshua wrote the copy of Moses’ instruction upon the altar stones. Josephus largely follows Joshua in his understanding of this particular aspect of the Shechem area altar legislation, but he reduces the legislation mandating the inscription of the Torah to inscribing simply its blessings and curses (Ant. 4.308). 61 In their careful selection from and arrangement of their (Deuteronomic) source, the writers of the Samaritan tenth commandment solve the crux interpretum differently. There are two sets of stones: the large stones ( )אבנים גדלותthat are to be plastered and inscribed (SP Exod 20:13 ;ג–אDeut 5:17 )ג–בand the whole stones ( )אבנים שלמותthat are to be employed in constructing the sacrificial altar (SP Exod 20:13ה–ד//Deut 5:17)ו–ה.
IV. The Samaritan Tenth Commandment in Its Literary Contexts As part of the Ten Words, situated in both the Exodus and Deuteronomy versions of the Decalogue, the Samaritan tenth commandment plays a key role in guiding the interpretation of the very passages in the Pentateuch from which it draws. A matter of order thus becomes a matter of content. Because the first rendition of the Ten Words in SP Exod 20:13 ו–אprecedes the Covenant Code altar instructions (Exod 20:24–26), whose composition most likely predates that of Deuteronomy, the tenth commandment in Samaritan tradition becomes a hermeneutical guide to understanding the Covenant Code altar instructions. The very addition of the Samaritan tenth word to the Exodus version of the Ten Commandments also creates, however, a new problem in that the Covenant Code altar legislation allows for multiple sacrificial installations at various cultic sites: “At every place at which I cause my name to be remembered, I shall come and I shall bless you” (MT Exod 20:24). If the Covenant Code altar legislation were left to stand, readers would be confronted with a mandate for, among other things, an altar at Mt Gerizim in the Ten Commandments followed later by a mandate for establishing altars at multiple sites in the Covenant 60 J. J. K rause provides an up-to-date discussion of the compositional and redactional issues, Exodus und Eisodus: Komposition und Theologie von Josua 1–5 (VTSup 161; Leiden: Brill, 2014), 221–73. 61 He thus reads the requirements of Deut 27:2–4, 8 through the lens of the call for the pronouncement of the blessing on Mt. Gerizim and the curse on Mt. Ebal (Deut 11:29–30; cf. Deut 27:11–13). In his highly selective paraphrase of the Joshua altar tale (MT 8:30–35; 9:2a–f), Josephus reduces, in turn, the blessings and curses to just the curses (Ant. 5.68–70).
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Code, followed by a mandate for an altar at Mt. Gerizim in Deuteronomy’s version of the Ten Commandments, followed by the mandate for centralized worship in Deuteronomy 12, followed finally by the mandate for an altar at Mt Gerizim in the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal legislation of Deuteronomy 27. That Samarian scribes realized this problem may be seen in the slight changes they introduced into in the Exodus altar law within the SP.62 Whereas the MT reads: “in every place ( ) בכל המקוםat which I shall cause ( )אזכירmy name to be remembered, I shall come to you and bless you,” the SP reads: “in the place ( )במקוםat which I have caused ( )אזכרתיmy name to be remembered, there ( )שמהI shall come to you and bless you.”63 The SP formulation in Exodus effectively presupposes centralization. In so doing, it all but collapses a critical distinction between the two laws. In both cases, the SP version allows for only one altar “at the place” ( ; במקוםExod 20:24; Deut 12:5, 11, 14, 18, 21, 26). Given this correlation, the Deuteronomic altar replicates the Exodus altar. That continuity allows, in turn, for the Mt. Gerizim altar of Deuteronomy 27 to be understood as consistent with both earlier pieces of legislation. In the end, all three point to the same reality. The slight but highly significant SP reworking of Exod 20:24 is even more far-reaching in that it points the reader back to Abram’s construction of an altar at Shechem upon his arrival in the land of Canaan. The SP indicates by allusion to Abram’s altar at the “place of Shechem” ()מקום שכם, following his arrival in the land of Canaan (Gen 12:6–8), that Gerizim had been favored by the deity from ancestral times. 64 In the context of the SP, there is, therefore, a line of clear continuity from Abram’s altar at Shechem (Gen 12:6) to the altar legislation contained in the Ten Commandments and the altar legislation given at Mt. Sinai (Exod 20:24) in the Covenant Code. There is, in turn, clear consistency between the Covenant Code altar legislation mandating an altar of unhewn stones and the second rendition of the Ten Words in Deut 5:17ח–א, mandating an altar of whole stones. Because Deuteronomy’s version of the Ten Words in Deut 5:17 ח–אprecedes the highly important centralization legislation (Deut 11:31–12:31), the tenth word becomes a hermeneutical key to deciphering the ambiguously phrased centralization instructions pronounced upon the Steppes of Moab (Deuteronomy 12) remanding all Israelites to worship at “the place” ( )מקוםof God’s own choosing (Deut 12:5, 11, 62 It is unclear precisely when the change to במקום, “at the place,” occurred, yet, the reading is not early. The supporting witnesses to the SP lemma are relatively late: some medieval Heb. MSS, Sam. Tg., and a marginal gloss to Tg. Neof. The SP lemma במקוםcorrects toward the standard reading of Deuteronomy ( ; במקוםDeut 12:5, 11, 14, 18, 21, 26). 63 The syntax of the SP Vorlage likely resembled that of the LXX* in this case (ἐν παντὶ τόπῳ, οὗ ἐὰν ἐπονομάσω τὸ ὄνομά μου ἐκεῖ, καὶ ἥξω πρὸς σὲ καὶ εὐλογήσω σε) and thus varied slightly from the MT. See J. W. Wevers, Notes on the Greek Text of Exodus (SBLSCS 30; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990), 319. Nevertheless, the general point stands. 64 Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 209–10.
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14, 18, 21, 26). 65 Given the parallels between the two passages relating to timing, “when you cross the Jordan,” the mention of one altar, the injunction to sacrifice burnt offerings (or sacrifices – )זבחיםand offerings of well-being, the summons to corporate feasting and rejoicing, and the references to following divine instruction(s), readers may draw connections between them. 66
Parallels between the Tenth Word and the Centralization Laws67 Samaritan Tenth Commandment ובנית שם מזבח ליהוה אלהיך מזבח אבנים לא תניף עליהם ברזל אבנים שלמות תבנה את מזבח יהוה אלהיך
Centralization Legislation כי אם אל המקום אשר (י)בחר יהוה אלהיכם מכל שבטיכם לשים את שמו שם לשכנו תדרשו ובאתם שמה ועשית עלתיך הבשר והדם על־ מזבח יהוה אלהיך ודם־זבחיך ישפך על־מזבח יהוה אלהיך והבשר תאכל
והיה כי יביאך יהוה אלהיך אל ארץ הכנעני אשר אתה בא שמה לרשתה והיה בעברכם את הירדן תקימו את האבנים האלה אשר אנכי מצוה אתכם היום בהרגריזים
כי אתם עברים את־הירדן לבא לרשת את־הארץ אשר יהוה אלהיכם נתן לכם ועברתם את הירדן וישבתם בארץ
Parallel Motifs Building an altar by a direct command of the deity (MT and SP Deut 12:5, 27; SP Exod 20:13ז//Deut 5:17 ;הExod 20:13ה//Deut 5:17ו
Timing: when the people cross over into the land (MT and SP Deut 11:31; 12:10; SP Exod 20:13 א// Deut 5:17 ;אExod 20:13ג// Deut 5:17ד
65 Elsewhere within the book, see Deut 14:23, 24, 25; 15:20; 16:2, 6, 7, 11, 15, 16; 17:8, 10; 18:6; 26:2; 31:11. 66 The list is indebted to the analyses of A. Rofé, Deuteronomy (London: T. & T. Clark, 2002), 100 and S. Schorch, “The Samaritan Version of Deuteronomy and the Origin of Deuteronomy,” in Samaria, Samarians, Samaritans (ed. J. Zsengellér; StSam 6; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2011), 23–37 (28), although I do not agree with all of their conclusions. Aside from acknowledging parallels, one must also recognize important differences. There is, e.g., no reference to divine election ( )בחרin Deut 11:29–30 and 27:1–26 (cf. Deut 12:5, 11, 14, 18, 21, 26 14:23, 24, 2; 15:20; 16:2, 6, 7, 11, 15, 16; 17:8, 10; 18:6; 26:2; 31:11). There are no summons to the Israelites to bring their tithes, firstlings, freewill offerings, and so forth to Mt. Gerizim or Mt. Ebal (cf. Deut 12:6, 11, 26). Nor are there any references to Yhwh “placing his name there” (Deut 12:5, 21; 14:24) or to his “making his name dwell there” (Deut 12:5, 11, 21; 14:23, 24; 16:2, 6, 11; 26:2). On the name formulae, see S. L. R ichter, The Deuteronomistic History and the Name Theology: lešakkēn šemô šām in the Bible and the Ancient Near East (BZAW 318; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2002). 67 Since the comparisons being drawn are internal to the SP, the SP serves as the base text in this table.
Chapter Eleven: The Samaritan Tenth Commandment
297
והעלית עליו עלות ליהוה אלהיך וזבחת שלמים
והבאתם שמה עלתיכם וזבחיכם תביאו את כל אשר אנכי מצוה אתכם עולתיכם וזבחיכם
Burnt offerings and sacrifices or well-being offerings (MT and SP Deut 12:6, 11; SP Exod 20:13ה//Deut 5:17ו
ואכלת שם ושמחת לפני יהוה אלהיך
ואכלתם שם לפני יהוה אלהיכם ושמחתם בכל משלח ידיכם אתם ובתיכם אשר ברכך יהוה אלהיך
Feasting and rejoicing before Yhwh (MT and SP Deut 12:7, 12, 18; SP Exod 20:13ו–ה//Deut 5:17ז–ו
ושמחתם לפני יהוה אלהיכם כי אם לפני יהוה אלהיך תאכלנו במקום אשר (י)בחר יהוה אלהיך בו אתה ובנך ובתך ועבדך ואמתך והלוי אשר בשעריך ושמחת לפני יהוה אלהיך בכל משלח ידך וכתבת על האבנים את כל דברי התורה הזאת
אלה החקים והמשפטים אשרKeeping Torah: These תשמרון לעשות בארץ אשר נתןstatues and judgments; יהוה אלהי אבתיך לך לרשתהall of these words, which I am commanding you; שמר ושמעת את כל הדבריםall of the words of this האלה אשר אנכי מצוךinstruction (MT and SP Deut 12:1, 28; 13:1; SP Exod 20:13א//Deut 5:17)ג את כל הדבר אשר אנכי מצוה אתכם אתו תשמרו לעשות
Within the literary context of Deuteronomy, the centralization instructions guide, in turn, the interpretation of the elaborate and complex versions of the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal instructions from Moses, the elders, and Levitical priests appearing in Deuteronomy 27. Indeed, the reference to Moses and the Israelite elders (Deut 27:1) takes on new meaning in this new literary context context, because Moses now repeats (Deut 27:1), at least in part, what Yhwh has already said himself (Deut 5:17)א. Finally, in the SP, the Mt. Gerizim/Mt. Ebal directives contextualizing the central law-code of Deuteronomy (11:29–30; 27:1–26) reinforce and elaborate upon the links among the Torah, worship at Mt. Gerizim, and the land articulated in the Tenth Commandment. In this literary sequence, the Gerizim altar called for in the convocation legislation of Deuteronomy 27 echoes both the Deuteronomic rendition of the Ten Words and the centralization legislation. With each instance, a stronger case is built for the centrality of Mt. Gerizim in Israelite law and lore.
298
Part Three: Altered Altars
Conclusions In composing the passage that became the tenth word, Samaritan writers included certain instructions from their sources, excluded others, and rearranged some of the material they borrowed from other literary contexts to create an intelligible and coherent articulation of some core Samaritan tenets. I say some core tenets, rather than all tenets, because the passage makes no attempt to be comprehensive. There are major Samaritan beliefs about the God of Israel, orthopraxis, the position of Moses, and Mt. Gerizim itself that could have been included, but are not. The force of the literary argument is not to make a new claim about a cultic institution, such as the Samaritan temple on Mt. Gerizim, but rather to draw readers’ attention to material that was already present within the Torah. As a self-consistent interpretation and abbreviation of instructions found elsewhere in the Samaritan Pentateuch, the tenth word contests competing understandings of these same instructions attested in Jewish and Christian texts. Although some reconstructions of relations among Jews and Samaritans around the turn of the eras have presented these communities as increasingly isolated and alienated from one another, the Samaritan Decalogue reveals Samaritan scribes to be well-conversant with disputed matters of interpretation among Jews and Samaritans. If there were no issues of scriptural understanding and application, not simply between Jews and Samaritans, but probably also among Samaritans themselves, there would have been no need to create such a passage, much less insert it as the Tenth Command of the Decalogue. The Tenth Commandment thus becomes a powerful identity marker in Samaritan tradition, underscoring the corporate ceremonies at Mt. Gerizim as central to Israel’s constitution. 68 By the same token, the very advantage that the interpolation of this material into the Decalogue creates for Samaritan theology and practice also comes at a cost in Jewish-Samaritan relations. Inserted into what is arguably the most famous collection of laws within the Pentateuch, the new material effectively distances Samaritans from Jews, because it publicly underscores and inscribes the most critical difference between Jews and Samaritans. The issue is not simply that Jews regard Jerusalem as the place of God’s own choosing, whereas Samaritans regard Mt. Gerizim as the place of God’s own choosing. The disparity in interpreting the imprecise language of Deuteronomy had existed for centuries and likely attended the editing of Deuteronomy itself. 69 The issue is, rather, that the signal importance of Mt. Gerizim becomes enshrined in the Samaritan version of the Ten Commandments that both 68 For this reason and others, the Decalogue was never eclipsed as a summary statement of Israelite law and remains a standard fixture in Samaritan liturgy and tradition. 69 Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 194–216; idem, “The Northern Context of the LawCode in Deuteronomy,” HeBAI 4 (2015): 162–83.
Chapter Eleven: The Samaritan Tenth Commandment
299
communities share as an epitome of the commandments given by Yhwh to the Israelite people. Inasmuch as the SP Decalogue declares that God commands perpetual Israelite worship at Mt. Gerizim, the Pentateuch that formerly united the two groups now became a source of division. Ironically, the many traits shared by the two communities – the common language, the common ancestors in Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the common stress on the Exodus, the common priestly tribe (Levi), the Aaronic priesthood, the importance of the land, the common sacrifices, festivals, and rituals, and the common set of foundational scriptures (Pentateuch) – come to be overshadowed by what divides the two communities. The very commandment that consolidates a distinctive Samaritan communal identity by presenting Israelite worship at Mt. Gerizim as a core demand of Israelite praxis effectively creates a new challenge in the history of Samaritan-Jewish relations.70
70 It would be too strong an assertion to suggest, however, that most contacts between the two communities ceased. See G. N. K noppers, “How It Began and Did Not End: The History of Samari(t)an and Judean Relations in Antiquity,” in Conversations with the Biblical World: Proceedings of the Eastern Great Lakes Biblical Society and the Midwest Region Society of Biblical Literature 35 (2015): 189–211.
Index of Sources Hebrew Bible Genesis 11:18–21 225 12:1 225 12:6 242, 257, 295 12:6–8 98, 136, 227, 250, 295 12:7 257 13:4, 18 136 14:17–24 141 19:12 27 21:33 243 22:5 27 22:9, 13 136 28:18–22 136 33:18 97 33:18–20 136, 227, 250 33:20 97 34 22 34:1–30 257 34:15–22 50 34:17, 24 40 34:29 238 35:1–7, 14 136 40:15 27 45:19 238 46:5 238 49:26 96, 185 Exodus 3:1 263 3:8 282 3:17 282 6:6–7 215 6:18, 20 82 6:18, 21–23 121, 138
6:23 82 6:25 82–83 12:43–13:16 279 13 286 13:5, 11 282 13:11a 97, 283–284 15:1–18 235 15:20 80 17:6 263 19:1–8 216 19:1–31:17 267 19:5–6 215, 287 20 97, 276 20:1–17 207, 287 20:2 280 20:2–17 280 20:8 276 20:8–11 276 20:13 SP 11, 244, 259, 281–285, 288, 290, 292, 294, 296–297 20:17b SP 97, 185 20:18 276 20:21 276 20:24 97, 207, 294–295 20:24–26 9, 197, 205, 207– 208, 237, 251, 256–257, 294 20:25 206, 208, 210, 236–237, 256 20:25 LXX 210 20:26 205–206, 210, 236 23:23 282 24:1–11 216 25:1–31:17 252 25:8 252 25:8–9 262
302
Index of Sources
25:10 238 27:1–8 9, 196–197, 199–200, 253 27:13 214 28:29, 35, 43 147 28:30 VL 270 29:30 147 31:11 147 32:1–35 267 32:11–14, 30–32 268 32:22–24 268 32:25 46 33:6 263 34:6 118 34:28 280 34:29 238 35–40 198 25:1–40:33 LXX 252 35:1–40:38 252 35:19 147 37;1–9 238 38:34 LXX 199 39:1, 41 147 Leviticus 1:16 144 13:45–46, 49 1 14:1–20 1 26:31 SP 98 Numbers 3:19 82, 121 5 97 5:1–3 1 5:18b 97 10:9 112 11:29a 97 12:1–15 80 14:3 238 16:1 121 20:1 80 21–24 106 22–25, 31 107 23:23 106 25 106 25:4–9 106
25:7, 11 82 25:7–8 107 25:10–13 107 25:12–13 91 26 108 26:58 82 26:59 80 27:12–23 106 31 107 31:6 82, 112 31:9 238 31:16 106 32:26 238 Deuteronomy 1:2, 6, 19 263 1:5 281 1:7 282 3:25 272, 286 3:27 106 4:2 217 4:8, 44 281 4:10, 15 263 4:13 280 4:20 215 5:1–14 279 5:1–18 280, 287 5:1–6:1 278 5:1–6:5 279 5:1–6:9 279 5:2 263 5:4 280 5:12–15 276 5:17 11, 138, 244, 259, 281–282, 284–285, 288, 290, 292, 294–297 5:18b 185 5:22 25 5:24–27 276 5:28b-29 276 5:30–31 276 5:31 27 6 279 6:4 204, 251 7:1–4 21
Index of Sources
7:3 102 7:9–11 48 8:5–10 278 8:7–9 239 9:8 263 10:4 280 10:12–11:21 279 11 286 11:11–12 239 11:13–21 279 11:21–12:31 6, 9 11:26, 29 273 11:26–30 236, 238–239 11:29 96, 185, 238, 257, 283, 285, 289 11:29–30 272, 282–284, 288–289, 294, 296–297 11:29–31 97, 110, 138, 185, 196, 214–215, 223, 257, 262 11:30 97, 186, 242, 282, 285, 287–289 11:31 233 11:31–32 201, 203 11:31–12:1 215 11:31–12:31 97, 138, 183, 197–198, 200, 202, 208, 232, 237, 251, 255, 266, 295 12 98, 101–102, 264, 295 12:1–13:1 268 12:1–26:15 213 12:2–3, 29–31 202 12:2–31 257 12:3 266 12:5, 11, 14, 18, 21, 26 96–97, 201, 266, 295–296 12:6 99, 255, 297 12:7, 12 265 12:7, 12, 18 111, 266, 297 12:8–10 201 12:8–12 203, 206, 228 12:9–12 99 12:10–11 232–233, 255–256, 265
12:10–12
303
197, 213, 218, 256, 290 12:11 201, 255 12:13–18 202 12:15–16, 20–28 265 12:26–27 205, 214, 266, 272 12:27 200, 206, 208, 266 12:32 217 13:1 221, 297 13:6 51 14:23 201 14:23–25 96, 201, 296 14:26 111 15:20 96, 201, 296 16 110 16:2, 6, 7, 11, 15–16 96, 296 16:2, 6, 11 201 16:11, 14–15 111 16:21–22 243 17:8, 10 96, 296 17:11, 18–19 281 18:6 96, 201, 296 18:10–15 106 18:16 263 18:18–22 276 20 112 20:2 112 20:2–3 107 23:2–3 24 23:4–9 21 24:9 80 26:2 96, 201, 296 26:6–7 287 26:11 111 26:18–19 216 27 211, 218, 233, 258, 264, 272, 286, 295, 297 27:1 244, 286, 297 27:1–26 138, 238–239, 284, 287–288, 296–297 27:2 206, 213, 216, 219, 228, 233, 237, 285, 289 27:2, 4 206, 218–219
304 27:2–3
Index of Sources
130, 223, 259, 290–291, 293 27:2–3, 8 218, 258 27:2–4 206, 216, 261 27:2–4, 8 216, 258, 260, 294 27:2–4, 29–31 265 27:2–7 283 27:2–8 198, 205, 208, 213, 219, 226–229, 237, 251, 257, 260–261, 291–293 27:2–13 9, 185, 197, 236, 259 27:2–26 214–215, 236, 238 27:2b-3a, 4–7 97, 292 27:3, 8 215 27:3, 8, 26 281 27:3–8 108 27:4 211, 213, 218–219, 233, 235, 256–257, 259, 289, 292 27:4, 12 SP 272 27:4–5 218, 228 27:4–7 138, 185, 216 27:4–8 208, 222, 291 27:5 208–209, 236–237, 245, 256, 260, 272 27:5 LXX 210 27:5–6 206, 214, 237, 266 27:5–7 186, 197, 210, 216, 219, 237, 245, 253, 256–257, 259, 261, 266, 271–272 27:5–7, 11, 13–14, 17–18 265 27:6 206, 210, 256 266, 293 27:6–7 111, 218, 260 27:7 238, 266 27:8 206, 238, 293
27:9 238 27:9–10 215, 289 27:10 287 27:11 185 27:11–13 97, 108, 214–215, 218, 257, 262, 287, 289, 294 27:11–26 273 27:12 238 27:13 272 27:13–26 214, 218, 238 27:14–16 287, 289 28:1 214 28:1–14 214, 218 28:1–68 214, 257 28:15–68 218 28:36 108 28:58, 61 281 28:69 216, 263 29–31 108 29:9–10 218 29:20, 28 281 30:1–10 202 30:10 281 31:5 1–6 31:8 40 31:9 258, 281 31:11 96, 201, 296 31:30 24 32:15 SP 118 32:46 281 32:49–52 106 33:4 24 33:15 96, 185 34:1, 9 106 34:5–6 107 Joshua 1–5 100 1:1–9 253–254 1:7–9 102, 108, 110 1:14 238 3–4 227, 261 3–5 230 3:1–17 231, 254 4 223, 289 4:1–3 108
Index of Sources
4:1–8, 9, 20–24 108 4:1–20 253–254, 261–262 4:1–21 130 4:1–24 228 4:1–5:12 260–261 4:3, 5–8, 20–24 226 4:3, 20–24 294 4:9 227, 261 4:19 226 4:19–5:10 227 4:20–21 261 4:20–24 227 5:2 291 5:2–9 226 5:2–12 253–254 5:8–9 226 5:9–10 130, 260 5:9–12 262 6–9 100 6:1–8:29 227, 239 6:1–5 253 6:1–27 254 6:5, 20 112 6:6–27 253 6:24 241 7 100, 109 7:1–26 253–254 8:1–29 234–235, 254 8:30 235, 257–258, 260 8:30–31 224, 261 8:30–31, 33 292 8:30–33 273, 293 8:30–35 10, 97, 109, 113, 186, 213, 215– 216, 223, 225, 227–228, 234, 236, 238–239, 254, 260–261, 289, 291–294 8:31 210, 222, 236, 256, 259–262 8:31–32 294 8:32 187, 216, 228, 236–237, 258, 261, 293 8:33–34 113, 273
8:34–35
305
238, 258–259, 261, 289 9:1 234 9:1–2 227–228 9:1–27 187, 227, 231, 253 9:2a LXX 235, 257 9:2a-b LXX 224 9:2a-d LXX 273 9:2a-f LXX 10, 109, 113, 186, 213, 216, 223, 225, 228, 234, 236, 239, 260, 289, 292–294 9:2b LXX 210, 222, 236, 256, 258–259, 262 9:2c LXX 187, 216, 228, 236 9:2d-e LXX 273 9:3–27 228, 254 9:3–11:15 239 9:6, 14 240 9:23 241 9:27 96, 241 10 100 10:1–27 109 10:1–11:23 227 10:1–12:24 187, 231, 253–254 10:6 112 10:6–9, 15, 43 240 10:7, 9 254 10:28–43 109 11 100 11:8, 14, 17, 20, 21, 23 231 11:16–12:24 239 11:22 231 11:23 101, 231, 256 12 100 12:1–24 227, 231 12:8 100 13–21 100 13:1–6 102, 254 13:1–7 227 13:1–21:40 187, 234 13:1–21:43 101 13:1b-6 231, 239–240 13:2 229
306
Index of Sources
13:2–6 254 13:8–33 231 13:8–17:18 227 13:8–19:51 239 14:6 240 14:6–12 109 14:6–14 253–254 14:6–17:18 231 14:7, 10 230, 235 14:10 103 14:11 40 15:1–12, 20–63 29 15:1–19:51 253–254 15:59a LXX 211 15:63 102, 231 16:10 102, 231 17–21 113 17:7 113, 225 17:11–13 102, 231 18:1 227, 230–231, 239, 262 18:1, 8–10 112, 225, 270 18:1–7 239–240 18:1–10 262 18:2–19:51 227, 231 18:11–28 29 19:47 102, 231 19:49–50 242 19:51 112, 225, 232, 267 20:1 240 20:7 113, 225 21:1–48 113 21:21 113, 225 21:41–43 231 21:43–45 101, 231, 255, 261 22 101 22:1–9 268 22:10 229, 267–268 22:11–12 269 22:11–14 240 22:11–34 267 22:13, 15 270 22:13, 30–32 82 22:13–20 269 22:21–29 269 22:23 259
22:27–28 267 22:28 267 22:30–31 269 22:34 268 23–24 101–103 23:1 255 23:2–16 102, 110, 231, 243, 254, 270 23:4, 7, 12, 13 102–103 23:7 102 23:8 102 23:11–13 21 23:12 102 24 113 24:1 113, 241–243, 261, 270 24:1–24 243 24:1–27 10, 225, 231, 241, 243, 261 24:1–32 113 24:2–8 270 24:6 242 24:11 100 24:16–18, 22, 24 108, 261 24:19 103, 232 24:25 243 25:25–27 261 24:26 113, 270 24:33 82, 115 Judges 1:1–20 103 1:1–2:5 103 1:1–2:5, 17, 20–21, 23 102, 204 2:1 254 2:1–5 103 2:2, 11–13, 17, 20–21 103 2:5, 19 115 2:6–23 104 2:22–23 103 3:4 103 3:5–6 21, 103 3:7–11 113 3:7–16:31 104 3:9 114 3:9–11 243 3:12 103
Index of Sources
3:15 114 3:31 114 4:6 114 6:1 114 6:21 273 6:23–32 115 9:1 114 9:3–4, 46 115 9:3–6, 46 115 9:5 242 9:7 257 9:27 242 10:1 114 10:1–5 104 10:3 114 11:1 114 11:15, 31 115 12:8 114 12:8–15 104 12:11 114 12:13 114 12:13–25 272 13:2–23 272 13:4 114 13:19 115 17–21 114–115, 118 17:1–18:31 115 17:6 115 18 115 18:1 115 18:31 115 19:1 115 19:1–30 115 20:1 199 20:1–21:25 115 20:18, 23, 26–28 115 20:28 82 21:2–4 115 21:10 238 21:12, 19 115 21:16–22 199 21:19 240 21:25 115 1 Samuel 1:1 120 1:1–3:21 199
1:3 82 1:3–4, 9, 24 112 1:3–4:16 120 1:10–28 120 2:11, 18–19, 26 121 2:12–17 119 2:14 112 2:22 264 2:27–34 121 2:34 82 2:35 122 3:11–14 122 3:21 112 4:1–22 122 4:3, 12 112 4:4, 11, 17, 19 82 4:18 104 6:21 122 7:1 82 7:15–27 104 10:8 254–255 14:3 82 14:13 120 16:11 27 18:13 40 21:8 45 22:9 45 22:17–19, 20–23 122 22:20–23:9 120 24:16–17 185 30:7 120 2 Samuel 2:8 77 5:12 40 6:1–19 122, 262, 266 7:1 104, 203 7:1–16 9, 203 7:7–16 206 7:11–16 104 7:22–23 205 8:12–13 45 8:17 120 10:16–18 111 11:25 57 15:24–36 120 17:15 120
307
308 19:12 120 20:4 27 20:25 120 23:29 82 1 Kings 1:7–2:35 120 2:27 120, 122 2:30 27 3:7 40 3:4–14 232 5–8 204 5:18 104 6–7 134 6:1 105 7:13–51 136 8 198, 262 8:1–13 185 8:1–66 266 8:3–4 199 8:45 264 8:9 263 8:16 202 8:16, 44, 48 96, 206 8:41–43 183 8:56 263 8:64 200 9:1–9 145, 185 10:22 53 11:1–13, 26–39 52 11:1–14 21 11:13, 32, 36 96, 202 12:15 52 12:15–16 40 14:21 96, 202 15:8–24 40 15:9–11 41 15:11–12, 17–19 47 15:12–15 41 15:16 40, 43–44 15:16–17 41 15:17 40 15:18–19 41 15:20 40, 45 15:20–21 41 15:20–22 40 15:22 41
Index of Sources
15:23 41, 43 15:23–24 41 16:1, 7, 12 37 16:2–10, 14–36 136 16:29 50 20:4 50 21:25 51 22 50–51, 53 22:1–40 44 22:2–4 49–50 22:2–40 54 22:3 50 22:4 50 22:5–28 49 22:17 51 22:18–19, 43 47 22:29–33 49 22:34–40 49–50 22:41 50 22:41–51 50 22:41–54 54 22:45 54 22:45–51 53 22:46 54 22:47 54 22:48 54 22:49 52–54 22:50 53–54 22:51 50 2 Kings 2: 2, 4, 6 27 3:4–27 37 3:16–19 38 8:18 51 14:1–4 55 14:1–20 55 14:3, 11–14 47 14:3–4 55 14:5–6 55 14:7 56 14:8–14 55 14:13 85 16:1–3a 44 16:2–3, 5–9 47 16:3b-4 44 16:5 44
Index of Sources
16:5–10 40 16:6 44–46 16:7 45 16:8 45 16:9 40, 45–46 17 29 17:24 183 17:24–33 26–27, 123, 183, 190 17:24–34 123, 135 17:24–41 28, 184 17:29–31 26 17:34b-40 123–124 18:3–5, 13–16 47 18:31–32 40 21:7 96, 202 22:1–40 49 22:16 27 23:15–20 184 23:27 96, 202 23:29–25:21 63 23:35, 37 47 24:1 47 24:2 45 24:15–16, 20 25 24:18 64 24:19–20 47 24:20 63–64 25:11–12, 21 25 25:22–26 25, 167 1 Chronicles 1–9 248 2:3–4:23 61 5:6, 26 46 5:27–41 116 4:17 80 4:36 87 5:28 82, 121 5:29 80, 82 5:29–30 83 5:30 82 6:1–12 121 6:3 82 6:16–23 121 6:34 200 6:35 82–83
8:4 83, 116 8:33 77 9:3 85 9:7 79 9:20 82 9:35–44 248 10:1–14 248 11–29 39 11:12 82 12:6 77 12:18–19 50 13:6 122 15:1–16:43 262, 266 16:13–17 87 16:40 200 17:1–15 9, 203, 206 17:20–21 205 18:12 45 19:16, 18 111 21:1 51 21:16–19 185 22:6–16 204 22:8–9 104 22:9 202 22:9, 18–19 104 23:12 82, 121 23:25 104 24:1–6 82 24:20 82 27:24 LXX 82 27:25, 27–28 71 27:25–31 156 28:2–3 104 28:10–20 57 29:23 40 2 Chronicles 1–9 39 1:2–13 232 1:5 200 2:3–16 61 4:1 200, 209, 237 5:2–6:3 185 5:2–7:10 262, 266 5:4–5 199 5:10 263 6:5, 34, 28 202
309
310 6:32–33 183 6:41 104 7:1–3, 12–22 185 7:11–22 145 7:12 206 7:16 202 8:1–2, 18 61 9:1–11 61 10:1–17 37 10:15–16 40 11:10, 23 71 12:4 71 13:3 56 13:4–12 52, 57 13:8–12 57 13:13–21 56, 58 13:18–19 58 13:23 43 13:23–16:14 40–41 14–16 40 14:4–5 43 14:5 71 14:6, 10 43 14:7–14 43, 56, 58 14:8 56 14:11 47 14:13 42 15:2 44 15:2–7 42 15:3–6 41 15:4–5 42 15:8 43 15:8–9 58 15:9 43 15:9–15 268 15:15 43 15:19 43 16:1–3 42 16:7–9 43 16:9 48 16:12 43 17:1–19 50 17:2 58, 71 17:10 42 17:12 71 17:14–19 56 18:1 50 18:1–34 44
Index of Sources
18:1–19:3 49 18:1–20:37 54 18:2 51 18:3 50 18:16 51 18:31 47, 51 19:1 51 19:2 37, 60 19:2b-3 52 19:4–11 49, 54 19:8 263 19:11 57 20:1–30 49, 58 20:20 73 20:29 42 20:34 37 20:35 55 20:35–27 53 20:37 53, 55 21:3 71 21:6 51 21:12 49 22:2 51 22:9 49 23:1–21 268 24:23–24 56 25:1–28 55 25:5–13 56 25:7–8 57 25:8 47, 56–57 25:9–13 58 25:10 85 25:23 85 26:4 55 26:7, 15 47 26:10 156 27:4 71 28:1–15 44 28:5 46 28:6 56 28:6, 19, 22, 25 64 28:6–8 46 28:7 85 28:16–19 46 28:16–21b 45 28:20–21 47 28:23 46 30:1–10 124
Index of Sources
30:5–31:21 184 30:6–9 125 31:1 268 32:1–22 47, 58 32:8 47, 56 32:18 31 32:27 71 32:28–29 156 33:7 202 33:23 64 34:1–35:18 184 34:4 268 35:20–22 62 35:21 31, 62 36:1–22 62 36:6, 11 64 36:12–13 63 36:21 25 36:22 64 36:22–23 30, 65 36:23 65 Ezra 1–6
3, 17, 23, 25, 29, 34–35, 139 1:1 30, 64 1:1–3a 65 1:1–4 30 1:1–11 3, 18, 20, 31, 34 1:1–4:3 34 1:3 30, 65 1:5 24, 30 1:11 24 2:1 24 2:1–2 24 2:1–70 25, 29, 84 2:1–3:13 3, 24 2:1:4–5 19 2:1–6:22 18 2:2 17, 24 2:2–35 84 2:42 84 2:43–54 84 2:53 79 2:55–57 84 2:59–60 84 2:64 24
311
2:69 161 2:70 24 3–6 33 3:1 24, 208 3:1, 8 23 3:1–2 23 3:1–6 31, 139 3:1–13 23 3:3 23 3:6 23, 139 3:7–4:3 31 3:9 79 3:10–11 26 4–6 32 4:1 24, 26 4:1–2 29 4:1–3 25–26, 31 4:1–5 3, 27, 34 4:1–5, 24 23 4:2 26–27, 29 4:3 24, 29 4:4 24, 31 4:4–5 31, 33 4:5 18, 31 4:6 23 4:7–23 3, 19, 23, 34–35 4:8–6:18 32 4:12–16 181 4:13 158 4:13, 20 161 5:1 35 5:1–2 31 5:1–3 32 5:1–6:22 3, 19, 23, 34 5:3, 6 32 5:3, 7 32 5:3–17 32 5:3–6:5 33 5:13–15 30 5:13–16 3, 18, 20, 31 5:14–16 34 6:3–4 136 6:3–5 30 6:4 161 6:4, 8–10 162 6:6 32–33 6:6, 13 32 6:6–12 33
312 6:7–10 33 6:8 161 6:8–9 27 6:8–10 161 6:11 33 6:16 24 6:17 24 6:19–20 24 6:21 24 6:22 18 7–10 22, 35, 188 7:1–5 116 7:1–10:24 3 7:1–10:44 3, 18, 20 7:5 82–83, 116 7:7, 10, 13 24 7:7–23 3 7:12–26 32 7:14 161 7:15, 20 162 7:20–21 161 7:24 158, 161 7:28 24 8:1–14, 18–19 84 8:2 82 8:24, 27 161–162 8:24, 35 24 8:29 24 8:33 82 8:33–34 159 8:35 24 9–10 21 9:1 21, 24, 26 9:1–2 3 9:1–2, 12 21 9:4 24 9:5 24 9:11 21 10:1 24 10:1, 2, 6, 8, 10 24 10:2, 11, 17, 18, 44 21 10:4 56 10:5, 25 24 10:6 24 10:7, 16 24 10:8, 12–16 24 10:9 24 10:18–44 188
Index of Sources
10:23 79 10:25 82 10:34 82 10:42 86 10:44 18–19 Nehemiah 1:1 18 1:1–7:72a 18 1:6–9 24 1:9 202 2:10 24 3:1–32 29, 160 3:1, 21–22, 28 160 3:7, 15, 19 167 3:14 211 3:17 160 3:36 170 5:1, 17 26 5:4 162 5:14 162 5:15 18, 20, 162 5:16 162 7:6 24 7:6–72 25, 29, 84 7:7 17 7:7, 73 24 7:7–38 84 7:45 84 7:57–59 84 7:61–62 84 7:70 161 7:71 161–162 7:72b-8:18 18, 20, 22, 35 8:1 24 8:16 85 9:1–2 24 9:1–12:26 16 9:8, 36 154 10:1–37 18 10:1–40 157 10:2 18 10:30 157 10:33 157 10:34 24 10:38–39 162 10:40 157
Index of Sources
11–12 30 11:1–18 201 11:1–12:26 18 11:4, 25, 35 24 11:9 79, 87 11:25–36 29 12:8 79 12:8, 34, 36 87 12:14 86 12:27 201 12:27–13:13 18, 20 12:34, 36 79 12:39 85 12:42 82 12:44 161 12:47 157 13:1 24 13:4 20 13:4–31 18, 20 13:10–11 157 13:10–13 156 13:12 157 13:12–13 161 13:13 159 13:28 20, 22, 179 13:28–29 179–180 Esther 3:13 238 8:11 238 Job 22:10 31 38:11 27 Psalms 2:5 31 9:6, 17 52 10:2 52 52:10 243 78 264 78:60, 68 264 79:6–7 86 81:6 79 83:16 31
92:13–15 243 106:19 263 106:30 82 132 122, 202 132:13 202 137:7 29 Proverbs 29:18 46 Qohelet 3:14 217 12:12–13 217 Isaiah 7:8b 28 7:9 73 11:14 52 20 48 28:14–28 48 30:15 48 36:16 40 37:28 40 48:2 201 52:1 201 57:8 198 Jeremiah 2:14–19, 33–37 48 6:1 211 10:25 86 21:1–7 63 24:1–10 63 25:1–14 48 25:1–29:32 63 27:1–28:17 48 27:3–11 63 27:3–15 63 34:1–5 63 37:1–27 63 38:8–22 63 39:1–7 63 40:5–8 167 49:9–11 63
313
314 52:2 64 52:3 63–64 Lamentations 2:2 86 Ezekiel 13:15 63 17:13–20 63 24:15 279 43:2–4 214 47:8 229 Daniel 9:16 201 11:44 31
Index of Sources
10:7 85 11:13 159 14:13 42 Malachi 1:6–8, 14 156 3:6–12 156 3:22 263
New Testament Matthew 4:5 201 27:53 201 Luke
7:10–13 48 8:9–10 48
9:51–19:57 1 10:29–37 1 17:11–19 1 17:17–18 1
Joel
Hebrews
4:4 229
8:5 262
Amos
Revelation
9:7 46
11:2 201 21:2, 10 201 22:18–19 217 22:19 201
Hosea
Obadiah 8–15 29 Micah 6:4 80 Haggai 2:4 57 Zechariah 9:10,11 85
Deuterocanonical/ Cognate Literature Tobit 13:9 201 Judith 5:16 22 9:2–4 22
Index of Sources
315
Sirach
Hebrew Bible Pseudepigrapha
36:12 201 42:21 217 45:23 82 50:24 82
2 Baruch
1 Maccabees
Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum
1:1–7 73 1:45–50, 54 266 2:26, 54 82 4:47 208, 266
1 248 8.1 257 8.7 257 11–19 251, 278, 287 11.1–13 248–249 11.1–15 268 11.2–3 268 11.5 252, 262 11.15 252 12.1–10 251–252, 267 12.2–3 268 12.4–10 268 13.1–10 249, 251–252 13.1, 2 253 14–19 251 15.1–7 253 16.1–7 268 19.1–7, 10 253 20–24 287 20.1–10 253–254 20.9 254 20.9–10 256 21–22 241 21.1 254 21.2–6 254 21.3 253–254 21.7 210, 236, 254, 256, 258, 261, 266 21.7–8 287 21.7–9 224,252 21.7–10 250, 263, 267 21.8 258, 261–262 21.8–10 259 21.9 253, 261–263 21.9–10 266 21.10 251–252, 257, 261–263 22 252, 263
2 Maccabees 1:12 201 3:1 201 6:1–3 141 9:14 201 15:14 201 4 Maccabees 18:12 82 1 Esdras 1:23–31 62 2:1–6 30 2:15 23 2:16–20 181 5:47 208 5:49 23 5:63–70 27 5:66 26 5:69–70 31 6:28–30 27 6:42 136 8:2 83 8:66 3, 21 9:36 19 2 Esdras 1:2 83 2:42 26
4:5 262 48:24 202
316
Index of Sources
22.1 267–270 22.1–7 267 22.2 268–270 22.3 268 22.4 268 22.5 267–269 22.6 268 22.7 268–269 22.8 265, 268, 270 22.9 251, 263, 265, 270 22.9, 12 270 23.1–14 270 23.2 270 23.11 253 24.1–4 270 25–38 253 25.7 253 37.2–5 257 41.1 272 42.9 272 43.9 272 48.2 270 50.3 270 51.7 270 52.1 270 55.9 270 65 248
Dead Sea Scrolls 1Q20 11:13–14 211 11QTa 47:3–4, 10–11 201 52:19–20 201 3Q15 10:5 211 4QDa 20:22 201
Philo On the Decalogue 12.50–28.153 207 On the Life of Moses 2.22.106
210, 293
On the Special Laws 1.12.67 202 1.51.274 210, 257, 293 4.142 278
Josephus Jewish Wars 1.33 11, 270 1.62–63 136, 141 1.62–65 132, 134, 173 1.63 221 1.562 181 3.307–313 221 3.307–315 244 4.532 148 5.225 209, 237, 257, 293 7.420–436 11, 270 7.426–431 202, 209 7.428 209 7.431 202 Antiquities 1.1–17 196 1.13–15 200 1.17 217 1.25 213 1.148–157 225 1.157, 224 229 3.49 232 3.85–92 207 3.95–99 268 3.100 198–199 3.103 147, 198, 231
Index of Sources
3.107 199 3.115 214 3.115–121 198 3.123–133 198 3.134–138 238 3.139–143 198 3.147–150 229 3.149 200, 237 3.149–150 199, 209, 217 3.305 213, 218, 226, 228–229 3.307–308 215, 218 3.308 213, 218 3.322 200 4.192 202 4.193 201 4.193–201 200 4.196 200 4.197 212 4.197–199 201 4.199 201, 206 4.200 202, 204–206, 216, 237, 293 4.200–201 200, 206, 208–209, 212, 222, 257 4.201 9, 200, 204, 202, 206 4.213 278 4.305–308 186, 207–208, 213–214, 219, 222, 229, 233, 236, 238, 290, 293 4.307 186, 215–216 4.307–308 238 4.308 186–187, 217–218, 240, 294 4.312 213 4.312–314 215 4.313–314 214 4.323–326 107 5.16–20 227 5.20 226, 239, 262 5.20–21 219, 226 5.20–34 186, 262 5.22–48 239
5.22–67 230 5.32 241 5.34 226 5.34, 48, 62, 68 230 5.49–57 187, 231 5.49–66 239 5.62–67 187, 231 5.68 230–232, 234–235, 238–239, 241, 262 5.68–70 214, 229, 234, 294 5.69–70 109, 186–187, 200, 207, 213, 217, 222, 233, 236–238 5.70 239–240 5.71–75 239 5.71–92 187, 234 5.72–75 240 5.76 240 5.76–79 239 5.80–88 239 5.89 240 5.100–114 229, 240 5.112 237 5.112–113 240 5.112, 114 240, 268 5.114–115 241 5.115–116 243 5.117 231, 241 5.117–118 112, 232 5.117–119 241 5.150 240 5.170 240 5.343, 346 229 6.100–103, 121 229 7.329–334 229 7.342 102, 204 8.12.2 41 8.22, 101, 105 200 8.22–235 229 8.225–226 203 8.88 200, 237 8.88–90 229 8.101, 104 199 8.101–105 229
317
318
Index of Sources
8.105 200 8.116 183 9.163, 268–274 229 9.264–267 184 9.279, 288 27, 181 9.288–290 183, 190 9.289–290 184 9.290 184 9.291 183, 222 10.50–56, 66–67 229 10.52–54, 66–70 184 10.102 63 10.183–185 27 10.184 181, 183–184, 222 10.218 217 10.243 211 11.16 27 11.20 31 11.21–30 27 11.75–76 23 11.76 27, 209 11.87 183 11.97 181 11.140–153 21 11.145–152 187 11.297–347 220 11.302–303 181 11.302–346 8, 132, 134, 141, 173, 177 11.302, 331 171 11.303 181 11.308–309 181 11.310 136 11.310–311 185 11.310–321 182 11.312 188, 220 11.313–317 182 11.317–345 73 11.321–324 183, 185, 220 11.322 188 11.322–324 179 11.323 182, 222 11.340 188, 220–221 11.340–345 222 11.341 183–184 11.344 190 11.346–247 189, 221
12.7–10 141, 221 12.257–264 141 12.257, 261 183, 222 12.258–263 190 12.318 208, 257 12.387–388, 397 11, 270 13.62–73, 285 11, 270 13.74–79 141, 221 13.254–256 132, 134, 141, 173, 221 13.256 136, 185, 220 13.275–279 221 17.20 183, 222 17.250 181 18.85 183, 221–222, 244 18.86 286 20.119 31 20.36 11 20.229, 251, 261 200 Against Apion 1.42 217 1.198 209, 237, 293 2.179 200 2.193 202 2.287 200 2.291 217 Vita 269 244
Rabbinic Sources b. Menah 109b 270 m. Mid. 3.4
211, 257, 293
m. Sot ah ˙ 7.5 238
Index of Sources
Midr. Num Rab 18.7 202 Pr Azar 1:5 201 Sipre Deut 354 202
Classical Authors Aristophanes Ploutos 178 69 Diodorus 15.2.2–3 69 15.90.3 73 Quintus Curtius Rufus Hist.Alex 4.8, 9–10
73, 179
Isocrates Panegyricus 140 71
Inscriptions and Cuneiform Documents Mt. Gerazim Inscriptions (MGI) 1 80 1.1 82 3.4–5 79 11 272 17–20 80 20.2 86 22.1 86
24 82–83 25 82–83 27 80 32 82 43 79 49 79 53 86 54 80 56.1 82 61 82 147–155 216, 222 148.2 86 149–155 81, 145 149.1 82 150 86 150.1–3 81, 145 150.3 79 165.1 82 199 81, 145 200 79 203.1 86 211 146 213 80 382 82 382–385, 387 81 383 81, 145 384 82 384.1 82 384.3 82 385.2 83 388–389 82 389 82–83 390 82
Aramaic Documents from Ancient Egypt (TAD) 1.68–71 175 4.5–4.10 172, 174 4.7 174 4.7:29 172 4.8:28 172 4.9:3 81, 145, 175 4.9:9 175 4.10:11 175
319
320 Ras Šamra (RS) 17:340 50 17.340:5–24 40 18.54 50
Index of Sources
Index of Modern Authors Ackerman, S. 52 Ackroyd, P.R. 39, 44–45, 51 Adams, S.L. 156, 162 Adler, E.N. 91, 116 Ahlström, G.W. 67 Albertz, R. 48, 63, 86, 100, 180–181, 264 Albight, W.F. 164, 278 Allen, L. 57 Alt, A. 17 Altmann, P. 156, 158, 163, 217 Amzallag, N. 19 Anderson, R.T. 137 Ariel, D.T. 166 Arubas, B. 72, 167, 172 Auld, A.G. 223–224, 228–229, 235, 291, 293 Avigad, N. 79 Bar-Kochva, B. 210 Barag, D. 85 Barclay, J.M.G. 210, 213 Bardet, S. 195, 205–206, 213, 234 Bartlett, J.R. 37–38 Batten, L.W. 16 Beaulieu, P-.A. 9, 77 Becking, B. 19, 22, 77, 81, 88, 139, 181 Bedford, P.R. 16–17, 29, 155, 157, 159, 162–163 Beentjes, P.C. 260 Begg, C.T. 41, 43, 62, 181, 184, 215, 218, 226, 229, 232, 234, 236, 240–241, 243, 254, 258, 262, 268 Ben-H · ayyim, Z. 275, 278 Ben Zvi, E. 25–26, 44, 53, 56, 59, 61, 89 Berman, J. 16, 28 Bernstein, M.J. 276 Betlyon, J.W. 69, 70, 71 Blenkinsopp, J. 19, 20, 26, 84, 86, 154155, 160, 162, 164, 180
Bogaert, P.-M. 247, 258, 265 Böhler, D. 16, 19, 23, 136, 209 Boid, R. 111 Bolin, T.L. 172 Bowerman, H.C. 220 Bowman, J. 277 Bourgel, J. 249 Braulik, G. 111, 216–217, 281 Braun, R.L. 37, 52 Brett, M.G. 25 Brettler, M.Z. 59 Brewer, D.I. 97, 292 Briant, P. 68, 73, 160, 162–163 Bright, J. 16, 28, 67 Brody, A.J. 166 Bruning, B.E. 252 Bull, R.J. 137 Burney, C.F. 45 Burt, S. 22 Busink, Th.A. 135 Campbell, E.C. 171 Campbell, E.F. 137 Carroll, R.P. 136, 158–159 Carter, C.E. 164 Cataldo, J.W. 25 Childs, B.S. 41 Cline, D.J.A. 158 Cohn, L. 247 Cogan, M. 45, 50, 63 Coggins, R.G. 249 Coggins, R.J. 28, 178, 195, 225, 275 Cohen, M. 19 Cohen, S.J.D. 196 Cook, J.M. 67 Cornelius, I. 87 Cortese, E. 100, 264 Cowley, A.E. 175, 277 Crane, O.T. 92, 109, 226
322
Index of Modern Authors
Crawford, S.W. 276, 278, 283 Cross, F.M. 28, 75–76, 137, 179, 196, 275 Crowfoot, J.W. 170–171 Crown, A.D. 87, 91, 94, 110–111, 249 Cudworth, T.D. 44 Curtis, E.L. 42, 43 Dandamaev, M. 77, 155 Danell, G.A. 37, 87 Daniel, S. 205 Davis, A.R. 144 De Groot, A. 166 De Hemmer Gudme, A.K. 78, 132, 179, 216, 242 De Troyer, K. 223–224, 291 De Vries, S.J. 42, 49, 62 Dexinger, F. 114–115, 137, 146, 195, 196, 275–278, 283, 286 Di Segni, L. 133, 144 Dillard, R.B. 40, 42, 46 Dimant, D. 265 Donbaz, V. 163 Dozeman, T.B. 224, 227, 261, 293 Dozy, R.P.A. 109 Dräger, O. 220 Driver, S.R. 42, 99, 255 Duke, R.K. 39 Duncan, J. 279 Dušek, J. 15, 75–76, 78, 81–83, 85, 132–133, 144, 172, 174, 177, 179, 182 Edelcopp, M. 136 Edelman, D.V. 17, 29, 75, 76, 136, 139, 154–155 Egger, R. 15, 27, 178, 188, 195 Elayi, J. 69 Ephʿal, I. 66 Eshel, E. 66, 283 Eshel, H. 84, 283 ˙ Eskenazi, T.C. 31, 33 Evans, P.S. 44 Faü, J.-F. 87 Faulkner, W. 9 Faust, A. 164 Fantalkin, A. 71–72, 165 Feldman, A. 265
Feldman, L.H. 183, 195, 198–200, 202–203, 207, 213, 215, 217–219, 225, 229, 232, 243–244, 248, 268 Fine, J.V.A. 69 Finkelstein, I. 164 Fishbane, M. 21, 54, 211, 277 Fisher, C.S. 170–171 Fleishman, J. 33 Florentin, M. 82–83, 94, 116, 277, 289 Fohrer, G. 28 Fraenkel, S. 109 Franken, H.J. 166 Franklin, N. 171 Frevel, C. 24 Fried, L.S. 17, 23–24, 32, 34, 84, 155, 158, 161–162 Fulton, D.N. 23, 30 Gabriel, I. 59 Gadot, Y. 72, 164, 167–168, 172 García Martínez, F. 265 Galling, K. 16, 42 Gamberoni, J. 201 Gera, D.L. 22 Gesenius, W. 277 Glatt, D.A. 18, 23, 34–35 Goldstein, J.A. 209 Goren, Y. 172 Grabbe, L.L. 17, 32, 34, 68, 73, 75–77, 161, 165, 178–179, 181, 190, 195 Graham, M.P. 56 Graf, D.F. 66, 68 Grainger, J.D. 68 Grätz, S. 32, 161 Gray, J. 50 Greenberg, M. 278–279 Greer, J.S. 144 Grelot, P. 175 Gropp, D.M. 75, 172, 179 Gross, B. 167–168 Gruen, E.S. 179 Gunneweg, A.H.W. 19, 28 Gurwin, S. 172 Hackl, J. 160 Halpern, B. 18, 23, 34–35 Hanhart, R. 249 Haran, M. 136–137, 147, 198
Index of Modern Authors
Harrington, D.J. 247, 258, 265, 270 Harrison, T. 135 Harvey, P.B. 156 Hatch, E. 43, 57 Hayes, J.H. 63, 164, 167 Heckl, R. 19–20 Hensel, B. 24, 26, 28, 88, 177 Himbaza, I. 275, 283 Hjelm, I. 87, 91, 178, 195, 249 Hoftijer, J. 145 Holladay, C.R. 141 Hölscher, G. 28 Hossfeld, F.-L. 264 Houtman, C. 252 Hovers, E. 166 Hünefeld, K. 83 Ilan, T. 80, 83, 86 Jacobson, H. 247, 252–253, 257–258, 260, 262–263, 265, 267, 269–270, 272–273 James, M.R. 247, 253 Jamgotchian, H.S. 92, 94, 111 Janković, B. 160 Janzen, D. 22 Japhet, S. 29, 37, 42–43, 46–47, 49, 52, 58–59, 63–64, 87, 268 Jarick, J. 55 Jericke, D. 149 Jongeling, K. 145 Jonker, L.C. 37, 58–59, 87 Joüon, P. 46, 56 Jursa, M. 160, 163 Juynboll, T.W.J. 92, 94, 109, 111, 118, 146–147, 226 Kaiser, O. 200–201 Kalimi, I. 54, 59, 63, 96, 101, 118, 292 Kalluveetil, P. 45, 51, 215–216 Kartveit, M. 15, 92, 135, 177–178, 182–185, 190, 195–196, 220, 222, 249, 275–276 Kasher, A. 195 Katzenstein, H.J. 67 Kellerman, U. 20 Kelly, B.E. 52, 59, 64 Kenyon, K.M. 170–171 Kessler, J. 25, 29
323
King, P.J. 165 Kippenberg, H.G. 15, 177, 184, 195, 242, 249, 277–278 Kisch, G. 247 Kittel, R. 41–42 Kleber, K. 160 Klein, R.W. 37, 40, 43, 58, 63 Klengel, H. 67 Klinkott, H. 160 Knauf, E.A. 67 Knoppers, G.N. 1, 10, 17, 19, 21, 23, 25–26, 28, 35, 37–38, 40, 46–47, 49–54, 56, 61, 63–66, 73, 77, 79–80, 82, 85–88, 95–96, 98, 104, 111–112, 117, 121, 124–125, 132, 134, 138, 140, 154, 156, 170–171, 173, 177, 182–187, 189, 196, 200–201, 203–205, 211, 220, 226, 230, 248–249, 257–258, 263–264, 275, 277, 279–280, 288–290, 295, 298–299 Koch, I. 168 Kraemer, D. 19 Kratz, R. 86, 156 Krause, J.J. 100, 225, 227, 229, 261, 264, 294 Kropat, A. 56 Kugel, J. 211, 225, 276 Kutsch, E. 120 Laird, D. 24 Langgut, D. 72, 167 Layton, S. 77 Lederman, Y. 195, 205–206, 213, 234 Lefebvre, M. 156 Leith, M.J.W. 17, 75, 88, 172, 179 Lemaire, A. 68, 83, 89, 157, 166, 173 Lerner, B.M. 8–9 Levin, Y. 173 Levine, B. 156 Levinson, B.M. 95, 98, 156, 217, 281 Levy-Rubin, M. 94 Lichtenberger, A. 148 Lincicum, D. 279 Lincoln, B. 70, 162 Lindars, B. 281 Lipiński, E. 216 Lipschits, O. 29, 63, 67, 71–72, 153, 163–169, 172 Lohfink, N. 214
324
Index of Modern Authors
Long, B.O. 31 Lowery, R.H. 53 Lyon, D.G. 170–171 Macchi, J.-D. 87 Macdonald, M.C.A. 76 Mader, A.E. 149 Madsen, A.A. 42, 43 Magen, Y. 76, 78, 80–83, 87, 129–134, 137, 141–145, 147–147, 149–150, 173–174, 178, 182, 220, 286 Marcus, R. 230 Margalith, O. 16 Mason, S. 213 McCarter, P.K. 45, 77, 95, 203, 264 McCarthy, C. 289 McCarthy, D.J. 215–216 McKenzie, S.L. 45, 62 Meshorer, Y. 69, 76, 84–85, 172–173 Metso, S. 276 Meyer, E. 28 Meyers, C.L. 29 Meyers, E.M. 29 Mikolášek, A. 89 Mildenberg, L. 84, 173 Milgrom, J. 8–9 Miller, J.M. 63, 164 Misgav, H. 76, 78, 80–83, 87, 131, 144–145, 178, 286 Mitchell, C. 61 Mor, M. 84, 195 Moran, W.L. 52 Mosis, R. 16, 59 Mowinckel, S. 20 Mulder, M.J. 77 Murphy, F.J. 149, 247, 252, 258, 262–264, 268, 272 Myers, J.M. 15, 22–23, 209 Naveh, J. 76, 78, 277 Nelson, R.D. 213, 227, 242, 255, 291 Nielsen, E. 215, 255 Nihan, C. 108, 186, 202, 228, 237 Nocquet, D.R. 106, 186 Nodet, E. 27, 135, 137, 139, 145, 178, 189, 195, 205–206, 213, 234 Noort, E. 223–224, 227, 233, 291
Noth, M. 16, 19, 87, 100, 102–103, 105, 229, 264 O’Connor, J.-M. 149 O’Connor, M. 27, 56 Oded, B. 27 Oesterley, W.O.E. 178 Oeming, M. 72, 167, 172 Olmstead, A.T. 67 Olyan, S. 180, 243 Otto, E. 201, 281, 287, 289 Pakkala, J. 22, 161 Patrich, J. 136 Payne, E.E. 160 Perrot, C. 252, 258, 265 Pfeiffer, R.H. 16, 28 Plöger, O. 16, 42 Pohlmann, K.-F. 15, 32, 209 Porat, N. 167 Porten, B.B. 172, 175 Propp, W.H.C. 147, 252 Puech, E. 265 Pummer, R. 15, 22, 27, 31–33, 82–83, 85, 89, 91, 96, 110, 130, 134–135, 140–141, 146–147, 149, 177–178, 181, 183–184, 186, 188, 190, 195–196, 210, 221–222, 233, 235, 240, 242, 244, 248–249, 275, 278, 280, 283 Purvis, J.D. 118, 275, 283 Qedar, S. 69, 76, 84–85, 172–173 Qimron, E. 265 Ray, J.D. 68 Redford, D.B. 63, 66, 70 Redpath, H. 43, 57 Reed, W.L. 66 Regev, E. 249 Reinmuth, T. 22 Reisner, G.A. 170–171 Richter, S.L. 201, 296 Ringgren, H. 201 Ristau, K.A. 166 Rofé, A. 103–104, 217, 223–224, 229, 242, 264, 291, 296 Rogers, Z. 213 Römer, T. 201, 227, 255
Index of Modern Authors
Rösel, H.N. 100, 227, 229, 255, 264 Rosen, S.A. 166 Rost, L. 86 Rothstein, J.W. 16, 28 Rowe, A. 69 Rowley, H.H. 16 Rubio, G. 109 Rudolph, W. 16, 20, 28, 42–43, 57, 63, 180 Ruffing, A. 44 Ruzicka, S. 69–70 Şahin, M.Ç. 220 Sanderson, J.E. 196, 275–276 Sass, B. 79 Schaper, J. 158–159 Schenker, A. 15–16, 96, 185, 209, 288, 292 Schorch, S. 217, 296 Schulte, L. 22 Schunck, K.-D. 20 Schwartz, D.R. 178, 182, 195, 200 Schwartz, S. 135, 221–222 Schweitzer, S.J. 59 Schwiderski, D. 32, 161 Seeman, C. 181, 183, 185 Séligsohn, M. 91, 116 Sergi, O. 168 Shamir, O. 166 Shenkel, J.D. 50 Siedlecki, A. 61 Simian-Yofre, H. 216 Ska, J-.L. 215, 234–235 Smend, R. 102 Smith, J.Z. 25, 213 Soggin, J.A. 102–103 Southwood, K.W. 24 Sperling, D. 243 Spilsbury, P. 181, 183–185, 218 Spiro, A. 195, 248, 252, 255, 265, 267 Stager, L.E. 165 Steiner, R.C. 32, 34, 161 Stenhouse, P.L. 61, 94, 111–112, 114, 119, 146, 226, 235, 249 Sterling, G.E. 210 Stern, E. 67, 69, 71–72, 171, 188 Stolper, M.W. 32, 163 Strübind, K. 49, 55 Strugnell, J. 248
325
Svensson, J. 95 Sweeney, M.A. 45 Tadmor, H. 45, 63 Tal, A. 270 Tal, O. 69, 71–72, 165 Talmon, S. 18, 31, 34, 277 Talshir, Z. 23, 62 Tappey, R.E. 170 Thackray, H. St. J. 230 Thames, J.T. 24 Thompson, J.A. 52 Thompson, M.E.W. 45 Thornton, C.G. 195, 233 Throntveit, M. 42 Tigay, J.H. 77, 99, 215–216, 255, 283 Tiňo, J. 39 Tomlinson, R.A. 220 Torrey, C.C. 16, 19, 28, 159 Tov, E. 95, 186, 196, 224, 265, 275, 277, 291 Trebolle, J.C. 50, 224 Tsfania, L. 76, 78, 80–83, 87, 131, 144–145, 178, 286 Tuplin, C. 66–67 Tushingham, A.D. 166 Ulrich, E. 186, 203, 223–224, 229, 275, 288, 291 Van Andringa, W. 220 Van der Horst, P. 248 Van der Kooij, A. 62 Van der Meer, M.N. 224, 227, 229, 233, 258, 291–292 Van Seters, J. 248 Vanderhooft, D. 48, 63, 67, 71–72, 153, 163, 165, 167- 169 VanderKam, J.C. 19, 20, 73, 82, 179, 181, 210 Vanoni, G. 111 Vilmar, E. 94, 146, 226 Vincent, A. 172 Vogt, H.C.M. 21 Von Gall, A. 283 Von Hesburg, H. 220 Von Rad, G. 16, 42
326
Index of Modern Authors
Waerzeggars, C. 160–161 Waltke, B.K. 27, 56 Weinberg, J. 84, 154–155 Weinfeld, M. 96, 115, 201 Weingart, K. 86, 181 Weiskopf, M. 73 Welch, E.L. 38 Welten, P. 59 Westbrook, R. 50 Westermann, C. 52 Weszeli, M. 160 Wever, J.W. 242, 252, 295 Wiesehöfer, J. 68 Willi, T. 29, 39, 42, 51, 87 Williams, R.J. 56–57 Williamson, H.G.M. 17–18, 20, 28–29, 31–32, 34, 42, 46, 58, 62, 86–87, 135, 162, 178, 180 Winnett, F.V. 66
Wright, G.E. 137, 188 Wright, J.L. 22 Wright, J.W. 71 Würthwein, E. 50, 53 Yardeni, A. 175 Yellin, J. 167 Zadok, R. 77, 83, 87 Zahn, M. 248, 276, 284 Zangenberg, J.K. 135, 137–139, 146–148 Zeidel, M. 260 Zenger, E. 264 Zertal, A. 170–171 Ziem, T. 80 Zobel, H.-J. 86 Zorn, J.R. 164, 166–167 Zsengellér, J. 84, 178, 195 Zwickel, W. 135
Index of Subjects Aaron 82–83, 106, 116, 119, 121, 123, 268 ʿAbdāl 146 Abdon 114, 272 Abiasaph 121 Abiathar 120 Abidam 114 Abijah 52–53, 56–67 Abîl 114 Abimelech 114 Abisha 5, 83, 116 Abishag 79 Abishua 5, 83, 88, 116 Abraham/Abram 97–99, 140, 145, 225, 227, 242, 257, 295, 299 Abrocomas 68 Abū ʾl-Fath 120–121, 146, 235 ˙ Achaemenid(s) 67–68, 71, 154, 171 Achan 100, 109, 227, 253–254 Adam 118–119, 248 Ahab 49–55 Ahasuerus 23 Ahaz 28, 40, 44–48 Ahaziah 49–51, 53–56 Ah imelek 120, 242 Ah˙ itub 120 ˙ Ai ˙ 109, 227 Ain Dara 135 Akko 69 Akoris 68–69 Aleppo 135 Alexander the Great 68, 70, 73, 94, 132, 171, 173, 179–180, 182, 185, 188, 220 Altar(s) 2–3, 6, 81, 97–98, 109, 142, 149, 186, 196, 208, 266, 273 Altars, Altered 3, 8–12 Altars, Deuteronomic 295 Altars, Gilgal 254, 256, 258–262, 264–266
Altars, Jerusalem 23, 34, 157, 201–207, 209, 265 Altars, Mt. Gerizim 9–10, 97, 113, 118, 120, 132, 136–147, 185, 197, 253, 256–257, 262, 271, 278, 281–282 Altars, Shechem 97, 186, 196–198, 207–208 Altars, Shiloh 91 Altars, Tabernacle 9,11 196, 198–200, 209, 272 Amaśai 121 Amaziah 47–48, 55–58 Ammon 63 Ammonites 3, 21, 25, 54 Amorite(s) 3, 21 Amram 5, 80, 82, 88, 116, 119, 121 Amyrtaeus of Sais 66 Anani 175 Andromachus 73, 179 Antiel 114 Apries 63 Aram 40, 43, 45–46 Arab(s) 66 Arabah 281 Arabia 66–67 Aramean(s) 40, 44, 50 Argarizein 140 Arsames 175 Artaxerxes I 3, 18–20, 23, 34, 161–162 Artaxerxes II 3, 18, 20, 68–69, 172 Artaxerxes III 69–70, 172 Asa 37, 40–45, 47–49, 56, 268 Ashdodites 25 Assir 121 Assyrian(s) 45, 47, 123, 125, 167, 170, 181, 184, 190 Astrology 106 Athaliah 51 Attic Ware 171–172
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Index of Subjects
Augury 106 Azariah 41–42, 44, 121 Baasha 37, 40–43 Babylon 3, 7, 24–26, 32, 39, 48, 63, 153, 155, 159–160, 162, 167, 170 Bagavahya (Bagohi) 172, 174–175 Balaam 105–106, 116, 118 Barak 114 Beersheba 71 Ben-Hadad 40–45 Benjamin, Tribe 24–27, 30–31, 33, 44, 50, 58, 79, 85, 97, 100, 115, 164 Benjaminite(s) 29, 79 Beth-Hakkerem 167 Beth-Horon 58 Binary Opposition 1, 177, 189 Bohqi 116 ˙ Buqqi 116 Byzantine Christians 133 Caleb 109, 253–254 Canaan 97–98, 105, 108, 123, 201, 203, 229, 233, 257, 267, 281–282, 290, 292, 295 Canaanites 3, 21, 48, 61, 102–103, 106, 201, 213, 231, 234, 240, 256, 283 Carchemish 62 Cenez 253–254 Cenotaphs 148 Centralization 2, 9, 11, 93, 99–102, 111, 116, 124, 184, 197, 200–201, 203–204, 207–214, 219–221, 228, 230, 233, 237, 241, 244–245, 250–252, 255, 264–268, 273, 290, 292, 295–297 “Children of the Exile” 15, 24–26, Chronicler 4, 41, 58, 77, 87, 117, 125, 156 Chronicon Samaritanum 2, 5, 93–94, 105, 111, 113, 116, 120, 146–147, 235 Circumcision 223, 226–227, 253–254 Cisjordan 10, 100, 207, 227, 234, 240, 267 Cities, Levitical 109 Civil War 52, 115, 240 Coffin, Ceramic 166 Colonists in Canaan 29, 184 Corporate Ritual(s) 213, 265, 286 Corvée 159–160
Covenant Code 9, 11, 197, 205, 207–212, 219, 237, 247, 256–257, 294–205 Cushites 43 Cuthean(s) 27, 123, 135, 181, 183–184, 187 Cyrus the Great 3, 20, 23, 27, 30, 33, 39, 64–68, 136, 162 Damascus 45 Darius I 3, 18–19, 23, 27, 31–34, 161–162 Darius III 172, 180, 182 Daskylium 68–69 Davidic Regime 4, 7, 23, 38, 49, 58 Deborah 114 Decalogue 11–12, 248, 268, 275–280, 289, 294, 298–299 Delaiah 79, 172, 175 Delos 140, 151 Deutero-Canon 82 Deuteronomic 95–96, 110, 155, 185–186, 202, 209, 231, 239, 250, 271, 282, 294, 297 Deuteronomistic Writers 40 Diaspora, Babylonian 24, 80, 279 Diaspora, Egyptian 242 Diaspora, Samarian 140 Divination 106, 112 Eanna 160 Ebabber 160 Ebal, Mt. 2, 9–10, 97, 109, 111, 138, 185–187, 197, 205–208, 211–218, 221–222, 225–230, 233–245, 249–251, 253–254, 256–260, 262, 265–266, 271–273, 280, 282, 284–286, 290, 292–297 Edom 44–46, 54, 56, 63 Edomites 3, 21, 25, 46, 55–56, 58, 61, 149 Egyptian(s) 3, 21, 38, 61, 66–68 Egyptian Satrapy 81 Ehud 114 Elan 114 Elath 44–45 Elder(s), Judean 18, 20, 23 Eleazar 5, 80, 82, 88, 105–106, 109–110, 112–113, 115, 119–120, 123, 264–265 Elephantine 81, 87, 145, 162, 172, 174–175 Eli 5, 91–94, 104, 117, 119–124 Eliashib 20, 179–180
Index of Subjects
Eliel 121 Eliezer 55 Elihu 121 Elnatan 79 Elonei Mamre 148–150 Elqanah 120–121 Empire, Achaemenid 68, 172, 182 Empire, Assyrian 167 Empire, Neo-Babylonian 60, 64, 159, 170 Empire, Persian 38, 67–73, 154, 163 Empire, Ptolemaic 38 En Gedi 168 Ekur 163 Ephraim 4, 28, 53–58, 79–80, 85, 87, 113, 121, 184, 242 Esarhaddon 26–29 Euphrates 62 Eupolemus 140, 151, 199, 232 Eusebius 179 Exile, Babylonian 15, 34, 86 Exogamy 3, 21, 61, 188 Ezidda 160 Farak 114 Foreigner(s) 1, 3, 20–21, 30, 60–61, 181, 183 Former Prophets 5, 93–94, 100–105, 111, 114–117, 122, 203, 256, 263 Fourth Century 4, 8, 39, 66, 68, 71, 131, 169 Gad 240, 267–268 Gashmu 66 Ğalil 235 Galilee 1 Gaza 67 Geshurites 61 Gezer 67 Gibeon 109, 187, 227–228, 231–232, 239, 241, 253–256, 264, 270 Gideon 114, 272 Gilgal 10–11, 108, 186, 210, 219, 223–232, 235, 239–241, 250–270, 281, 288 Golden Calf 11, 251–252, 267–268 Haddad (Haddu) 77 Hâmam 111 Hanani 37, 41, 44, 79
329
Hananiah 79 ˙ Haram Rāmet el-Halil 7, 138–139, 141, 147, 149–150 Hebron 7, 138–141, 147–149 Hecataeus 209–210 Herod the Great 147–150, 181, 197, 200, 208, 212, 237, 293 Hezekiah 47, 124, 184, 268 Hittites 3, 21 Hodaviah 79 Honiah 79 ˙ Hophni 119 Huram of Tyre 61–62 Hūta 235 Ibzan 114 Ichabod 120 Idumean(s) 149 Inscriptions, Aramaic 81–82 Inscriptions, Mt. Gerizim 2, 4–5, 7, 76, 78–86, 141, 145, 151, 216, 242, 286 Inscriptions, Judean 86–87 Inscriptions, Levitical 84 Inscriptions, Samarian 140 Ioudaioi 182 Isaac 148, 299 Ishmaelites 61 Issachar 97 Ithamar 91, 119–120 189 Izhar 121 Jacob 57, 79–80, 85–87, 97, 106, 118, 124, 148, 227, 257, 299 Jaddua 73, 177, 181 Jair 114 Jebusites 3, 21 Jedaniah 172 Jehoahaz 63 Jehoiachin 63–64 Jehoiakim 47, 63–64 Jehonathan 79 Jehoram 49–51 Jehoseph 79, 86 Jehoshaphat 37, 47–56 Jehu 37, 52 Jephthah 114, 272 Jericho 109, 168, 186, 219, 226–227, 239, 253–254, 290
330
Index of Subjects
Jeroboam 52–53, 57, 85, 87 Jeroh am 121 ˙ 179, 279 Jerome Jeshua 3, 22–23, 26–27, 30–34, 188, 209 Jesus 1 Jews, Babylonian 279 Joel 87, 121 John Hyrcanus 12, 146, 150, 173, 221, 249, 278 Joiada 20, 180 Jordan River 95, 97, 99–100, 105, 108, 130, 186, 213, 216, 223–231, 253, 259, 281, 287, 291, 294–296 Jordan Valley 160, 258, 288–290 Joseph 4, 79–81, 85–87, 96–97, 140, 145 Josiah 38, 62, 184, 268 Judas Maccabee 208, 212, 266 Judean(s), Renegade 188, 190, 220 Judean Community 3, 17, 19, 22, 28–29, 156, 174 Judean-Samarian Relations 2, 8, 16, 19 Judean Texts/Sources 2, 151, 280 Kenaz 253 King(s), Achaemenid 20, 60–62, 66–68, 154, 160, 164 King(s), Assyrian 27, 45 King(s), Babylonian 63, 160 King(s), Canaanite 109 King(s), Cisjordanian 227–228, 234 King(s), Davidic 38, 62–65, 71 King(s), Egyptian 62, 63, 66, 68–69 King(s), Judean 146 King(s), Persian 63–64, 69, 71 Kultuseinheit 95, 202, 269 Kultusreinheit 95, 202 Lachish 71, 164 Land Allotment 109–111, 231, 240, 250, 254 Laws, Altar 8–11, 97, 109, 197–198, 208–209, 214, 219, 222, 225, 228, 244, 250–251, 264, 295 Leah 148 Levi 4, 82, 85, 97, 116, 119, 121, 257, 299 Levite(s) 18, 24, 30, 73, 79–82, 84, 88, 99, 108–113, 118, 157–162, 214–215, 218, 238, 244, 257–262, 273, 287
Lineage, Levitical 188 Machpelah, Cave 138, 147–149 Magic 112, 119 Mah ath 121 ˙ Manasseh 170, 177–179, 181–184, 187–189, 240, 267–268 Manoah 272 Mary Theotokos, Church of 150 Mercenaries 37–38, 55–58, 67, 70 Micaiah 49, 51 Midianite(s) 106–107 Miriam 4, 79–80 Mixed Marriage(s) 3, 21, 61, 177, 180, 191 Mizpah 7, 40, 164–169, 171, 240 Moab 63, 95, 98–99, 107, 110, 123, 215–216, 282, 287, 295 Moabites 3, 21, 25, 54, 61, 106 Moses 79, 82, 95–99, 106–110, 113, 118, 146, 157, 197, 199–200, 216, 218, 227, 231–232, 258, 263, 276, 286, 297–298 Moses, Command(s) 130, 186,197, 214, 222, 229, 234, 236, 238, 244, 256, 267, 286–287, 291, 294, 297 Moses, Death of 105, 110, 117, 119 Moses, Law(s) 115, 117, 139, 214, 224, 277–279, 292–293 Moses, Song of 118 Mt. Gerezim 2, 4–5, 8–12, 75–76, 78–88, 91–92, 96–98, 109–113, 115, 117–119, 122–123, 129–191, 197–198, 201, 203, 205–206, 208, 211–215, 217–222, 226–228, 233–235–238, 243–244, 249–253, 256–259, 262, 265–266, 271–273, 278–299 Mt. Sinai 95, 123, 199, 216, 267, 279, 287, 295 Mt. Zemaraim 57 Mt. Zion 5–6, 177, 202, 220, 263–264 Murašû 162–163 Name(s), Babylonian 84 Name(s), Levitical 82–83, 88 Name(s), Mt. Gerizim Inscriptions 78– 81 Name(s), Priestly 5, 81, 82–84, 88 Nathaniel 114 Nāwal 121
Index of Subjects
Nash Papyrus 278 Nebi Samwil 168 Nebuchadnezzar 39, 63–64, 170 Neco 38, 62, 65 Nectanebo II 69–70 Negev 46, 67, 71–72 Neo-Assyrian(s) 26, 29, 135, 171 Nepherites I 66–69 Nikaso 177–179, 181, 187 Nile River 66 Nippur 154, 162–163 Nob 270 North-South Relations 2, 49 Onias IV 202, 209 Onomastica 84–85 Onomasticon, Mt. Gerezim 80 Oracle(s) 38, 41–43, 52, 106, 121–122, 203, 205, 227, 240 Orthopraxy 217, 232 Osorkon House 171 Ostanes 175 Ostraca, Aramaic 171 Ostraca, Masada 87 Ostraca, Paleo-Hebrew 171 Ostraca, Samarian 83 Othniel 113–114, 253 Palestine 68, 71 Passover 124, 184, 186, 226–227, 253–254 Pax Persica 68 Period, Achaemenid 4, 17, 19, 38, 65, 75, 77, 130, 139, 170–174 Period, Byzantine 80, 129, 133–134, 144, 148, 150, 173 Period, Hasmonean 165 Period, Neo-Babylonian 2, 25, 38, 65, 77, 140, 154, 160, 164–165, 167, 169 Period, Persian 2, 6–7, 15–35, 65, 75, 78–81, 84–86, 88, 129–145, 153, 156, 158, 160–174, 178, 188 Period, Roman 2, 7, 31, 80, 129, 133, 138, 144, 171, 173 Period, Sinaitic 11, 250–251, 253, 267 Perizzites 3, 21 Persepolis 162 Pharnabazos 68–69 Philistia 45–46
331
Phinehas 80, 82–83, 88, 91 Phineh as 5, 91, 106–107, 112, 115–116, ˙ 119–120, 269 Phoenicia 27, 67–68 Pottery 134, 166–167 Pottery, Greek 166, 171 Pottery, Persian 129, 171, 174 Prohibition, Deuteronomic 48, 95, 100, 111, 123–124, 209, 245, 266 Priest(s), Levitical 113, 238, 258, 261, 286–287, 289, 297 Priesthood, Aaronid 58, 115, 120, 189–191, 220, 229 Psammetichus II 63 Qaynu 66 Qenites 61 Qenizzites 61 Qohath 116, 119, 121 Qorah 120–121 ˙ Qos 149 Rʾawân 111 Ramah 40, 42 Ramat Rahel 7, 71, 153, 164, 167–169, 171–171,˙ 175, 211 Ramathaim 120 Ramoth-Gilead 49–51 Rebekkah 148 Rehoboam 37, 53 Rephaim Valley 168 Reuben 240, 267–268 Roman(s) 75, 219–220 Sabbath 25, 112, 188–189, 276, 278 Salt Valley 55 Samaria Papyri 5, 75, 77, 79–80, 83–84, 179 Samarian(s) 1–4, 8, 10, 15–35, 73, 75, 78–79, 83–89, 132–142, 150–151, 163, 171–173, 175, 177–192, 198, 201, 220–222, 283, 295 Samaritan Joshua 105–122, 235 Samaritans 1–3, 8, 10, 12, 15, 28, 33, 95, 117, 119, 122–123, 133, 147–148, 177, 184, 195–197, 217, 221–222, 225–226, 234, 237, 243–245, 249, 271–273, 278, 283, 289, 298
332
Index of Subjects
Samson 6, 93, 113–115, 117–118 Samuel 82, 104, 120–121 Sanballat 20–22, 170, 172, 175, 177–185, 187–188 Sarah 148 Sargon II 27 Saul 59, 77, 100, 104, 115, 248 Scaliger Codex 94 Shalmaneser 27 Shamgar 114 Shamsham 6, 93, 113–115, 118, 124 Shaubak 107, 111–112 Sheba, Queen of 61–62 Shechem 8–11, 97–98, 101, 113, 115, 171, 174, 185–190, 197–198, 207–208, 212–223, 227, 229, 233–234, 236–243, 249–251, 257, 270–273, 281–282, 288–290, 294–295 Shechemites 22, 177 Shelemiah 172 Shephelah 46, 71–72 Sheshbazzar 3, 20, 23, 31, 34 Shethar-bozenai 20, 32–33 Shiloh 5, 10–11, 91–92, 112–113, 115, 120–123, 166, 189, 225, 227, 230–234, 238–244, 250–251, 261–265, 269–271 Shobai 79 Sidon 63, 69, 72–73, 171, 190 Simeon 4, 79–80, 86–87, 97, 103, 257 Simon 146 Solomon 39, 52, 59, 61, 84, 104–105, 145, 183, 200–204, 232, 256, 262–263 Sorcery 106, 112 Straton I 172 Sukkôt 23 Syncellus 179 Syria-Palestine 68–70, 135 Syro-Ephraimite War 44–45 Tabernacle 6, 61, 109, 112, 196, 198–199, 231, 250, 252–253, 262, 267 Tabernacle, Gerizim 115, 141, 146–147. 250–251 Tabernacle, Shiloh 227, 232–234, 239, 270 Tachos 69 Tah ath 121 ˙ Tarfîʾa 114 Tattenai 20, 30–33
Tel Batash 164 Tel el-Balât ah 171 Tel Tayinat ˙ 135 Tell Beit Mirsim 164 Tell er-Ras 133, 141 Tell Rumeideh 148 Temenos 131, 133, 143, 147, 150 Temple(s), Babylonian 7, 153–155, 159, 163 Temple, Solomonic 147, 199, 237, 266 Ten Commandments 12, 251, 278–279, 287, 294–295, 298 Tennes Rebellion 72–73 Thamma 242 Theodotus 236, 272 Theology, Chronistic 42, 52 Theology of Deuteronomy 111, 124 Theology, Samaritan 140, 298 Tiglath-Pileser III 40, 44–48 Tithraustes 68 Toah 121 ˙ Tola 114 Transeuphrates Satrapy 32–34, 162 Transjordan 10–11, 101, 107–109, 225–229, 233, 240–244, 251, 263, 266–270 Tribes, Cisjordanian 267, 269 Twelve Stones 108, 130, 134, 141, 143, 186, 226–227, 235, 253, 261, 294 Tyre 61, 63, 104 Uzzi 91–94, 115–119, 123 Vassal Treaties 50 Valley of Salt 58 Wâdī ed-Dâliyeh 5, 172, 179 Wadi Murabbaʿat 87 Wadi Tumilat 66 Xenophobia 61 Xerxes 23 Yaphni 120 Yawat 114 Yehud 7, 25–26, 29–20, 33, 38–39, 65–72, 79, 85, 87–88, 153–160, 162–168, 171–175
Index of Subjects
Zabdi 79 Zedekiah 39, 47, 62–64 Zeno Zephaniah 121 Zerah 41
Zerubbabel 3, 20–27, 30, 32, 34, 157, 208–209 Zophim 120 Zuph 121
333