This World and the World to Come: Soteriology in Early Judaism 9781472551047, 9780567446923, 9780567026095

This is a distinguished list of contributors consider the issue of 'soteriology' in Second Temple literature.

224 80 2MB

English Pages [385] Year 2011

Report DMCA / Copyright

DOWNLOAD PDF FILE

Recommend Papers

This World and the World to Come: Soteriology in Early Judaism
 9781472551047, 9780567446923, 9780567026095

  • 0 0 0
  • Like this paper and download? You can publish your own PDF file online for free in a few minutes! Sign Up
File loading please wait...
Citation preview

Library of second temple Studies

74 formerly the Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha Supplement series

Editor Lester L. Grabbe

Editorial Board Randall D. Chesnutt, Philip R. Davies, Jan Willem van Henten, Judith M. Lieu, Steven Mason, James R. Mueller, Loren T. Stuckenbruck, James C. VanderKam

Founding Editor James H. Charlesworth

this world and the world to come Soteriology in Early Judaism

Edited by

daniel M. gurtner

Published by T&T Clark International A Continuum imprint The Tower Building, 11 York Road, London SE1 7NX 80 Maiden Lane, Suite 704, New York, NY 10038 www.continuumbooks.com All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. © Daniel M. Gurtner, with contributors, 2011 Daniel M. Gurtner and contributors have asserted their right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the Authors of this work.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

e-ISBN: 978-0-567-02609-5 Typeset by Free Range Book Design & Production Limited

Contents vii xvii xix

Abbreviations Contributors Preface Introduction

1 Part I: Narratives

1. 2. 3.

‘Waiting for His Deliverance’: The Story of Salvation in Judith Michael F. Bird ‘God’s Great Deeds of Deliverance’: Soteriology in 3 Maccabees J. R. C. Cousland The Hermeneutic of Grace: The Soteriology of Pseudo-Philo’s Biblical Antiquities Preston M. Sprinkle

15 31 50

Part II: Apocalypses 4. Deliverance and Justice: Soteriology in the Book of Daniel Lorenzo DiTommaso 5. On a Wing and a Prayer: The Soteriology of the Apocalypse of Abraham John C. Poirier 6. The Few Who Obtain Mercy: Soteriology in 4 Ezra Jonathan Moo 7. On the Other Side of Disaster: Soteriology in 2 Baruch Daniel M. Gurtner 8. Personal Salvation and Rigorous Obedience: The Soteriology of 2 Enoch Grant Macaskill

71 87 98 114 127

Part III: (A Set of Some) Psalms 9. Enduring the Lord’s Discipline: Soteriology in the Psalms of Solomon Kenneth Atkinson

145

vi

Contents Part IV: Philosophical Texts

10. Travelling The Royal Road: The Soteriology of Philo of Alexandria Ronald R. Cox 11. ‘Saved by Wisdom’ (Wis. 9.18): Soteriology in the Wisdom of Solomon Daniel J. Harrington, S.J.

167 181

Part V: Dead Sea Scrolls 12. Survival at the End of Days: Aspects of Soteriology in the Dead Sea Scrolls Pesharim Alex P. Jassen 13. Salvation through Emulation: Facets of Jubilean Soteriology at Qumran Ian Werrett 14. Grace, Works and Destiny: Salvation in Qumran’s Community Rule (1QS/4QS) Markus Bockmuehl

193 211 229

Part VI: Rabbinic Texts 15. Messianic Redemption: Soteriology in the Targum Jonathan to the Former and Latter Prophets Bruce D. Chilton 16. The Restoration of Israel: Soteriology in Rabbinic Judaism Jacob Neusner

265 285

Part VII: Response 17. Salvation among the Jews: Some Comments and Observations George W. E. Nickelsburg

299

Bibliography Index of References Index of Authors Index of Subjects

315 337 357 363

Abbreviations 1. General Abbreviations AB Anchor Bible ABD Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited by D. N. Freedman. 6 vols. New York, 1992. ABRL Anchor Bible Reference Library AGJU Arbeiten zur Geschichte des antiken Judentums und des Urchristentums AnBib Analecta biblica ANRW Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt: Geschichte und Kultur Roms im Spiegel der neueren Forschung. Edited by H. Temporini and W. Haase. Berlin, 1972–. AOT The Apocryphal Old Testament. Edited by H. F. D. Sparks. Oxford, 1984. APAT Die Apokryphen und Pseudepigraphen des Alten Testaments APOT The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament. Edited by R. H. Charles. 2 vols. Oxford, 1913. ArBib The Aramaic Bible AS Aramaic Studies ATANT Abhandlungen zur Theologie des Alten und Neuen Testaments AUSS Andrews University Seminary Studies BA Biblical Archaeologist BAR Biblical Archaeology Review bce Before Common Era BEATAJ Beiträge zur Erforschung des Alten Testaments und des antiken Judentum BETL Bibliotheca ephemeridum theologicarum lovaniensium BHT Beiträge zur historischen Theologie Bib Biblica BibInt Biblical Interpretation BJS Brown Judaic Studies BRev Bible Review BTB Biblical Theology Bulletin BZAW Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft BZNW Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft CahRB Cahiers de la Revue biblique CBC Cambridge Bible Commentary

viii CBQ CBQMS ce CIS CJ CNRS CQS CRINT CSCO

Abbreviations

Catholic Biblical Quarterly Catholic Biblical Quarterly Monograph Series Common Era Corpus inscriptionum semiticarum Classical Journal Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique Companion to the Qumran Scrolls Compendia rerum iudaicarum ad Novum Testamentum Corpus scriptorum christianorum orientalium. Edited by I. B. Chabot et al. Paris, 1903–. DBSup Dictionnaire de la Bible: Supplément Ditt. Syll. Sylloge inscriptionum graecarum. Edited by W. Dittenberger. 4 vols. 3rd edn Leipzig, 1915–24. DJD Discoveries in the Judaean Desert DSD Dead Sea Discoveries EgT Eglise et théologie EncJud Encyclopaedia Judaica. 16 vols. Jerusalem, 1972. EvQ Evangelical Quarterly FAT Forschungen zum Alten Testament FRLANT Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments GAP Guides to Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha GCS Die griechische christliche Schriftsteller der ersten [drei] Jahrhunderte HDR Harvard Dissertations in Religion Hen Henoch HeyJ Heythrop Journal HO Handbuch der Orientalistik HSM Harvard Semitic Monographs HSS Harvard Semitic Studies HTR Harvard Theological Review HTS Harvard Theological Studies IBT Interpreting the Biblical Texts Series IEJ Israel Exploration Journal JAB Journal for the Aramaic Bible (formerly Aramaic studies) JBL Journal of Biblical Literature JCTCRS Jewish and Christian Texts in Context and Related Studies JECS Journal of Early Christian Studies JGRCJ Journal of Greco-Roman Christianity and Judaism JHUC Johns Hopkins University Circular JJS Journal of Jewish Studies JQR Jewish Quarterly Review JR Journal of Religion JSHRZ Jüdische Schriften aus hellenistisch-römischer Zeit JSJ Journal for the Study of Judaism JSJSup Journal for the Study of Judaism: Supplement Series

JSNT JSNTSup JSOT JSOTSup JSP JSPSup

Abbreviations

ix

Journal for the Study of the New Testament Journal for the Study of the New Testament: Supplement Series Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Journal for the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement Series Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha: Supplement Series JSQ Jewish Studies Quarterly JTS NS Journal of Theological Studies: New Series Kairos Kairos LHB/OTS Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies LNTS Library of New Testament Studies LSJ Liddell, H. G., R. Scott, H. S. Jones, A Greek-English Lexicon. 9th edn with revised supplement. Oxford, 1996. LSTS Library of Second Temple Studies LXX Septuagint Metis Metis MT Masoretic Text Neot Neotestamentica NovT Novum Testamentum NovTSup Supplements to Novum Testamentum NTOA Novum Testamentum et Orbis Antiquus NTS New Testament Studies OG Old Greek OLA Orientalia lovaniensia analecta OTP Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. Edited by J. H. Charlesworth. 2 vols. New York: Doubleday, 1983. OTS Old Testament Studies PTS Patristische Texte und Studien PTSDSSP Princeton Theological Seminary Dead Sea Scrolls Project QC Qumran Chronicle RB Revue biblique REJ Revue des études juives RevQ Revue de Qumran RHR Revue de l’histoire des religions SAIS Studies in Aramaic Interpretation of Scripture SBL Society of Biblical Literature SBLDS Society of Biblical Literature Dissertation Series SBLEJL Society of Biblical Literature Early Judaism and Its Literature SBLMS Society of Biblical Literature Monograph Series SBLSCS Society of Biblical Literature Septuagint and Cognate Studies SBLSP Society of Biblical Literature Seminar Papers SBLSymS Society of Biblical Literature Symposium Series SBS Stuttgarter Bibelstudien SC Sources chrétiennes SEÅ Svensk Exegetisk Årsbok

x Sem SJLA SJOT SJT SK SNTSMS SPhilo SR STDJ StPB Str-B

Abbreviations

Semitica Studies in Judaism in Late Antiquity Scandinavian Journal of the Old Testament Scottish Journal of Theology Skrif en Kerk Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series Studia Philonica Studies in Religion Studies on the Text of the Desert of Judah Studia Post-Biblica Strack, Hermann L., and Paul Billerbeck. Kommentar zum Neuen Testament aus Talmud und Midrasch. 6 vols. Munich: C. H. Beck, 1922–61. SUNT Studien zur Umwelt des Neuen Testaments SVTP Studia in Veteris Testamenti pseudepigrapha TDNT Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. Edited by G. Kittel and G. Friedrich. Translated by G. W. Bromiley. 10 vols. Grand Rapids, 1964–76. TED Translations of Early Documents ThWAT Theologisches Wörterbuch zum Alten Testament. Edited by G. J. Botterweck and H. Ringgren. Stuttgart, 1970–. ThWNT Theologische Wörterbuch zum Neuen Testament. Edited by G. Kittel and G. Friedrich. Stuttgart, 1932–79. TRE Theologische Realenzyklopädie. Edited by G. Krause and G. Müller. Berlin, 1977–. TSAJ Texte und Studien zum antiken Judentum TTZ Trierer theologische Zeitschrift TUGAL Texte und Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der altchristlichen Literatur VT Vetus Testamentum VTSup Supplements to Vetus Testamentum WC Westminster Commentaries WMANT Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen Testament WUNT Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament YOSR Yale Oriental Series, Researches ZAW Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft ZKTh Zeitschrift für Katholische Theologie ZNW Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die Kunde der älteren Kirche ZWT Zeitschrift für wissenschaftliche Theologie



Abbreviations 2. Abbreviations of Primary Texts

APOCRYPHA AND SEPTUAGINT 1 Macc. 2 Macc. Jdt. Sir. Tob. Wis.

1 Maccabees 2 Maccabees Judith Sirach Tobit Wisdom

ATHENAEUS Deipnosophistae

(Deipn.)

CYPRIAN Test.

Testimoniorum adversus Judæos

DISCOVERIES IN THE JUDAEAN DESERT CD 1QH 1QM 1QpHab 1QS 1Q14 1QpMic 1Q16 1QpPs 1Q17 1QJuba 1Q18 1QJubb 1Q28a 1QSa 1Q35 1QHa (+1QHb) 2Q19-20 2QJuba-b 3Q4 3QpIsa 3Q5 3QJub 4Q114 4QDanc 4Q116 4QDane 4Q161-65 4QpIsaa-e 4Q166-67 4QpHosa-b 4Q168 4QpMic 4Q169 4QpNah 4Q171 4QpPsa 4Q173 4QpPsb

Cairo Geniza Damascus Document Hymns / Hodayot War Scroll Habakkuk Pesher Community Rule / Manual of Discipline Micah Pesher Psalms Pesher Jubilees Jubilees Community Rule Thanksgiving Hymn(s) Jubilees Isaiah Pesher Jubilees Daniel Daniel Isaiah Pesher Hosea Pesher Micah Pesher Nahum Pesher Psalms Pesher Psalms Pesher

xi

xii

Abbreviations

4Q174 4QFlor / MidrEschata 4Q177 4QMidrEschatb 4Q186 4QCrypt 4Q208-9 4QEnastra-b ar 4Q216-24 4QJuba-h 4Q225-27 4QpsJuba-c 4Q228 4Q242 4QPrNab ar 4Q243-45 4QpsDana-c ar 4Q246 4QapocDan ar 4Q252 4QpGena / 4QPatr 4Q265 4QSD 4Q266-70 4QDa-e 4Q285 4Q317 4Q320 4QMish A 4Q321 4QMish Ba 4Q384 4QApocJer B 4Q394-99 4QMMT 4Q400 4QShirShabba 4Q551 4QDanSuz? 4Q552-53 11Q5-6 11QPsa-b 11Q12 11QJub 11Q13 11QMelch

eschatological eschatological horoscopes Jubileesa-h Pseudo-Jubilees (a work citing Jubilees) Prayer of Nabonidus 4QPseudo-Daniela-c 4QApocryphon of Daniel Patriarchal Blessings / Genesis Florilegium Community Rule + Damascus Document Damascus Documenta-e Destruction of the Kittim / Messianic Leader Phases of Moon (cryptic script) Priestly Courses II Priestly Courses I Jeremiah Apocryphon B Halakah / Letter on Works Songs of the Sabbath Sacrificea 4QFour Kingdomsa-b ar Psalms Scroll Jubilees Melchizedek

HEBREW BIBLE / OLD TESTAMENT Gen. Genesis Exod. Exodus Lev. Leviticus Num. Numbers Deut. Deuteronomy Josh. Joshua Judg. Judges Ruth Ruth 1 Sam. 1 Samuel 2 Sam. 2 Samuel 1 Kgs 1 Kings 2 Kgs 2 Kings 2 Chron. 2 Chronicles Ezra Ezra



Abbreviations

Est. Esther Ps. Psalms Prov. Proverbs Eccl. Ecclesiastes Isa. Isaiah Jer. Jeremiah Ezek. Ezekiel Dan. Daniel Hos. Hosea Amos Amos Jon. Jonah Mic. Micah Zeph. Zephaniah Hag. Haggai Zech. Zechariah Mal. Malachi IAMBLICHUS Myst.

De mysteriis

JOSEPHUS Ant. Apion War

Antiquitates judaicae Contra Apionem Bellum judaicum

MISHHAH, TALMUD AND RELATED LITERATURE Mishnah (m.) Abot. Meg. Sotah Ta‘an.

Avot Megillah Sotah Taanit

Babylonian Talmud (b.) ‘Abod. Zar. Avodah Zarah B. Bat. Bava Batra Ber. Berakhot Git. Gittin Hag. Hagigah Meg. Megillah Menah. Menahot

xiii

xiv Nid. Pesah. . Qidd. Sanh. Šabb. Yoma

Abbreviations Niddah Pesahim Qiddushin Sanhedrin Shabbat Yoma

Other Rabbinic Works Gen. Rab. Genesis Rabbah Lev. Rab. Leviticus Rabbah Mek. ’Amalek Mekilta ’Amalek Mo‘ed Qat Mo‘ed Qatan Pirqe R. El Pirqe Rabbi Eliezer NEW TESTAMENT Mt. Matthew Lk. Luke Jn John Rom. Romans 1 Cor. 1 Corinthians 2 Cor. 2 Corinthians Gal. Galatians Col. Colossians 2 Thess. 2 Thessalonians Heb. Hebrews Jas James 1 Pet. 1 Peter Rev. Revelation OLD TESTAMENT PSEUDEPIGRAPHA 1 En. 2 En. 2 Bar. 3 Macc. 4 Macc. 4 Ezra Apoc. Abr. LAB Sib. Or. Pss. Sol. Jub. T. Gad

1 Enoch 2 Enoch 2 Baruch 3 Maccabees 4 Maccabees 4 Ezra Apocalypse of Abraham Liber anituitatum biblicarum Sibylline Oracles Psalms of Solomon Jubilees Testament of Gad

T. Jud. T. Levi T. Mos. T. Sim. T. Zeb.

Abbreviations Testament of Judah Testament of Levi Testament of Moses Testament of Simeon Testament of Zebulun

PHILO Abr. Cher. Conf. Ling. Vit. Cont. Dec. Det. Pot. Ins. Deus Imm. Ebr. Fug. Gig. Rer. Div. Her. Jos. Leg. Gai. Leg. All. Migr. Abr. Vit. Mos. Mut. Nom. Op. Mund. Plant. Poster. C. Praem. Poen. Quaest. in Gen. Sacr. Somn. Virt.

De Abrahamo De cherubim De confusione linguarum De vita contemplativa De decalogo Quod deterius potiori insidari soleat Quod Deus sit immutabilis De ebrietate De fuga et inventione De gigantibus Quis rerun divinarum heres sit De Josepho Legatio ad Gaium Legum allegoriae De migratione Abrahami De vita Mosis De mutatione nominum De opificio mundi De plantatione De posteritate Caini De praemiis et poenis Quaestiones et solutions in Genesin De sacrificiis Abelis et Caini De somniis De virtutibus

PLATO Meno Theaet.

Meno Theaetetus

TARGUMIC TEXTS Targum Onqelos (Tg. Onq.) Targum Neofiti (Tg. Neof.)

xv

xvi

Abbreviations

Targum Pseudo-Jonathan (Tg. Ps.-J.) Targums to the Prophets (Tg. Neb.) Tg. Josh. Targum Joshua Tg. Judg. Targum Judges Tg. 1 Sam. Targum 1 Samuel Tg. 2 Sam. Targum 2 Samuel Tg. Isa. Targum Isaiah Tg. Jer. Targum Jeremiah Tg. Ezek. Targum Ezekiel Tg. Hos. Targum Hosea Tg. Joel Targum Joel Tg. Amos Targum Amos Tg. Obad. Targum Obadiah Tg. Jon. Targum Jonah Tg. Mic. Targum Micah Tg. Nah. Targum Nahum Tg. Hab. Targum Habakkuk Tg. Zeph. Targum Zephaniah Tg. Zech. Targum Zechariah Tg. Mal. Targum Malachi Targums to the Writings (Tg. Ket.) Tg. Ps. Targum Psalms

Contributors Atkinson, Kenneth Associate Professor of History, University of Northern Iowa (Cedar Falls, Iowa, USA) Bird, Michael F. Lecturer in Theology at Crossway College; Honorary Research Associate at the University of Queensland (Australia) Bockmuehl, Markus Professor of Biblical and Early Christian Studies, University of Oxford (Oxford, UK) Chilton, Bruce D. Bernard Iddings Bell Professor of Religion, and Director of the Institute of Advanced Theology, Bard College (Annandale, New York, USA) Cousland, J. R. C. Associate Professor of Classical, Near Eastern and Religious Studies, University of British Columbia (Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada) Cox, Ronald R. Associate Professor of Religion, Pepperdine University (Malibu, California, USA) DiTommaso, Lorenzo Associate Professor and Chair of the Department of Religion, Concordia University (Montréal, Québec, Canada) Gurtner, Daniel M. Associate Professor of New Testament, Bethel Seminary (St Paul, Minnesota, USA) Harrington, Daniel J., S.J. Professor of New Testament, Boston College School of Theology and Ministry (Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts, USA)

xviii

Contributors

Jassen, Alex P. Assistant Professor of Early Judaism, University of Minnesota (Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA) Macaskill, Grant Lecturer in New Testament, University of St Andrews (St Andrews, Scotland, UK) Moo, Jonathan Assistant Professor of Biblical Studies, Department of Theology, Whitworth University (Spokane, Washington, USA) Neusner, Jacob Distinguished Service Professor of the History and Theology of Judaism, Senior Fellow, Institute of Advanced Theology, Bard College (Annandale-onHudson, New York, USA) Nickelsburg, George W. E. Emeritus Professor of Religion, The University of Iowa (Iowa City, Iowa, USA) Poirier, John C. Professor of New Testament, Chair of Biblical Studies, Kingswell Theological Seminary (Middletown, Ohio, USA) Sprinkle, Preston Associate Professor of Bible, Eternity Bible College (Simi Valley, California, USA) Werrett, Ian Associate Professor of Religious Studies, Saint Martin’s University (Lacey, Washington, USA)

Preface In addition to the list of contributors to this volume, a number of important names must be mentioned who featured prominently in the formation of this book without offering a formal contribution. Professor James VanderKam and Professor Judith Newman both offered a number of helpful suggestions to the conception of the volume. Professor John J. Collins was likewise supportive and offered helpful and constructive dialogue on a regular basis. Thanks go to Preston Sprinkle for helping to form the vision of this book. Thanks are also due to Ian Werrett and Alex Jassen for guidance in working with the Qumran documents that form chapters in this book. I am grateful to Professor Lester Grabbe for his immediate interest in the volume and cooperation in seeing it to fruition. Thanks go to Dominic Mattos of Continuum for ongoing support of this and other projects. Thanks also go to Mohr Siebeck for permission to reprint Markus Bockmuehl’s article. To this list must be added a contingent of teaching and research assistants and other friends for aid in research and other features of the volume, including Chris Brenna, Jonathan Pieper, Dieudonné Tamfu, Mark Batluck, and especially Seth Ehorn. Daniel M. Gurtner St Paul, Minnesota Winter, 2011

Introduction Study of Second Temple Judaism has progressed to such a point as to recognize its broad points of diversity. Correctly, we have moved past referring to Judaism as a singularity of thought with simply different strains. Consequently, individual documents must be analysed on their own to determine their respective ‘theologies’ of any particular subject. James Charlesworth underscores the point: ‘Let me warn … that we should not tacitly assume that there is a theology of the Pseudepigrapha. There are far too many theologies in these writings’.1 That this statement was made a decade ago indicates that a book of this nature is somewhat overdue. The present volume is a collection of essays analysing the topic of ‘soteriology’ in a select corpus of Jewish texts dating from the Second Temple period. 1. Scholarly discussion The subject is most recently and explicitly discussed by Dan Cohn-Sherbok, whose ‘Salvation in Jewish Thought’2 traces the subject throughout Jewish literature. He covers the Hebrew Bible, the so-called apocrypha and pseudepigrapha, to contend that ‘salvation of the Jewish nation is understood in terms of Messianic deliverance. While the Jewish people were promised a future reward for the observance of the commandments, the Messianic Age holds the promise of ultimate salvation and redemption’.3 After surveying select texts from the Hebrew Bible, Cohn-Sherbok outlines the subject through Sirach, Baruch, 2 Maccabees, 1 Enoch, the Psalms of Solomon, Jubilees, 4 Ezra, 2 Baruch, the Wisdom of Solomon, among other texts and suggests such documents are ‘preoccupied with the World to Come, eternal life, and divine retribution’, underscoring each author’s concern for reward for the righteous.4 These are instructive starting points for our discussion, and we will find that Messianic deliverance is sometimes in view, as is the concern for the world to come. 1. Emphasis original. James H. Charlesworth, The Pseudepigrapha and The New Testament: Prolegomena for the Study of Christian Origins (Harrisburg: Trinity Press International, 2nd edn, 1998), p. 58. 2. In The Biblical World (ed. John Barton; London: Routledge, 2002), pp. 2.287–316. 3. Cohn-Sherbok, ‘Salvation’, p. 287. 4. Cohn-Sherbok, ‘Salvation’, p. 303.

2

This World and the World to Come

Yet the complexity of the subject requires consideration beyond simple Messianic terms. For example, in the revised edition of the Emil Schürer’s classic, History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ, ‘salvation’ is divided into three distinct, yet often overlapping, concepts of ‘resurrection’, ‘after-life’ and ‘messianism’.5 Schürer himself (in the revision), as does CohnSherbok above, associates the conception of an eschatological afterlife with Messianism, and traces the development of the future destiny of individuals, climactically apparent in resurrection for the purposes of participation in the messianic kingdom,6 which is a state that will give way to an ‘absolute transfiguration in heaven for the good’.7 He looks to ‘salvation’ in terms of ‘eternal bliss’ which occurs at the last judgment after the messianic age, largely but not exclusively in apocalyptic texts (2 Baruch, 4 Ezra, Assumption of Moses). He credits Hellenization for introducing the conception of the passing of the soul after death to a supernatural, heavenly existence,8 and suggests this leaves no room for life in a messianic kingdom. Yet he also observes similar trends in Palestinian Jewish eschatology, where there is an increasing hope not just among privileged individuals but of the righteous in general of ‘elevation to a heavenly existence’.9 To relieve the tension between the old national expectation and the new individualized, the former fades into a mere appearance of salvation (largely 2 Baruch, 4 Ezra, and the Qumran documents). Moreover, he finds a tendency to replace the nationalistic kingdom of the Messiah by a ‘kingdom of heaven’ in which ‘the difference between heaven and earth is abolished’.10 Therein originates the passing of a politico-national home to one that is ‘essentially religious’.11 More recent discussions have called into question the collapse of the subject into such narrowly confined and exclusively eschatological categories.12 E. P. Sanders draws upon a wide range of material to construct his portrait of Palestinian Judaism.13 Sanders’ work is well known for its conception of ‘covenantal nomism’, the common Jewish understanding of ‘getting in and staying in’ the people of God: ‘In this term, “covenant” stands for God’s grace in election (“getting in”), “nomism” for the requirement of obedience to the law (nomos in Greek, “staying in”)’.14 Our purpose here is not to 5. Emil Schürer, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, rev. edn, 1987). 6. Schürer, History, p. 2.495. 7. Schürer, History, p. 2.495. 8. Schürer, History, p. 2.546. 9. Schürer, History, p. 2.546. 10. Schürer, History, p. 2.546. 11. Schürer, History, p. 2.546. 12. Though John J. Collins treats it as an aspect of eschatology. See John J. Collins, ‘Eschatology’, in The Eerdmans Dictionary of Early Judaism (eds J. J. Collins and D. C. Harlow; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), pp. 594–7. Thanks to Prof. Collins for making an advance copy of his essay available to me. 13. See E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns in Religion (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977). 14. Judaism: Practice and Belief 63 BCE–66 CE (London: SCM, 1992), p. 262.



Introduction

3

engage Sanders’ work primarily,15 but any consideration of the acquisition of God’s eschatological blessings, such as is entailed in ‘soteriology’ even broadly conceived, cannot help but interact with Sanders’ seminal work. When Sanders turns to the ultimate outcomes of human life he finds they entail hopes for the future of the nation, often temporal, military, and political in nature. Yet there was at least some concern for afterlife, though ‘[i]ndividual immortality or resurrection is not a major topic of our literature, but it is probable that most Jews expected death not to be the end, though they may have conceived the future quite vaguely’.16 Furthermore, Sanders has promoted the view that ‘Judaism was not primarily concerned with individual salvation’,17 at least not in a Christian, Pauline sense. This is an important point, for as Alex P. Jassen articulates in his essay in this volume, soteriology, both as a coherent system and in part, is a uniquely early Christian concept. Instead, Sanders contends that in the Second Temple period an ‘abiding concern was that God should maintain his covenant with the Jewish people and that the nation be preserved’.18 While Sanders’ stated goal was to let the Jewish sources speak for themselves, he has been criticized for reading too much into the Jewish evidence.19 Our ambition is more modest. We do not intend to paint a composite portrait of Palestinian Judaism from these documents, but profile a cross-section of a handful of documents centred broadly on if and how they speak to the particular subject of soteriology. For some, covenantal nomism is an appropriate category, and nothing is said of any eschatological hope, let alone an afterlife or any other category often bound with Christian soteriology. For other texts, concern is steeped with the otherworldly rewards for the righteous in eschatological bliss. Many of the concepts that are central to later Christian soteriology are scattered among the writings of Second Temple Judaism. As DiTommaso observes below, salvation is a simple concept with many applications,20 only some of which are associated with what is later conceived as ‘soteriology’.

15. D. A. Carson, Peter T. O’Brien, Mark A. Seifrid (eds), Justification and Variegated Nomism (2 vols; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001, 2004) and Mark Adam Elliott, The Survivors of Israel: A Reconsideration of the Theology of Pre-Christian Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000). 16. Judaism, p. 298. 17. Judaism, p. 279. 18. Judaism, p. 279. Emphasis original. 19. Indeed, nearly every treatment of the subject post-Sanders – whether with a focus on Paul or the contemporary Jewish evidence – is in some way a critical engagement with Sanders’ presentation. A broad review of post-Sanders scholarship is found in Mark A. Seifrid, Justification by Faith: The Origin and Development of a Central Pauline Theme (NovTSup, 68; Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1992), pp. 46–75. Sanders responds to some criticisms recently in ‘Covenantal Nomism Revisited’, JSQ 1 (2009), pp. 25–55. 20. Gerald G. O’Collins, ‘Salvation’, ABD, pp. 5.907–14; cf. also J. R. Middleton and M. J. Gorman, ‘Salvation’, in The New Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, Volume 5 (gen. ed. K. D. Sakenfeld; Nashville: Abingdon, 2009), pp. 45–61.

4

This World and the World to Come

The danger is such a concept will be read into Jewish documents for which the concept may be utterly foreign. We must therefore speak more broadly about features, eschatological or otherwise, often associated with the concept of soteriology to determine if and how the concept is present in these texts. An overview of lexical trajectories from the LXX and Hebrew Bible may provide some helpful heuristic considerations for our project, to determine what sort of categories may be in view. 2. Lexical trajectories The subject ‘soteriology’ derives from the Greek swthri/a, a term found throughout the corpus of literature from Greek rendering(s) of the Hebrew Scriptures and through the disparate writings of the Second Temple period. The term itself is, of course, quite limited not least because many of the documents under consideration are not extant primarily or even at all in that language. Yet the term is a helpful heuristic category for inquiry. In a comprehensive treatment of the terminology,21 W. Foerster observes that within religious texts connotations involve everything from deliverance from an undesired situation to physical well-being. G. Fohrer22 sifts through a myriad of lexical data to find that in the LXX sw&|zw is used primarily for the verb (#$y, 143 times for the hiphil ‘to save’, ‘to free’, ‘to help’, ‘to come to the help of’.23 In such instances the deliverance ‘is imparted to the weak or oppressed in virtue of a relation of protection or dependence in which he stands to someone stronger or mightier who saves him out of his affliction. The thought is neither that of self-help nor of cooperation with the oppressed. The help is such that the oppressed would be lost without it’.24 These general lexical observations are borne out in a variety of contexts in the Hebrew Bible. For example, such deliverance could be procured for people through 21. W. Foerster, ‘sw|&zw, swthri/a, swth/r, swth/rioj’, TDNT 7.964-1024. See also C. Spicq, ‘sw|&cw (etc.)’, Lexique théologique du Nouveau Testament (Fribourg: Éditions Universitaires de Fribourg / Paris: Cerf, 1991), pp. 1481–95. 22. Also in the TDNT entry (pp. 970–80), following that of Foerster. 23. The term is defined in HALOT in the niphal ‘to receive help’, to be victorious’, or ‘to accept help’. In the hiphil it conveys ‘to help with work’, to help, save (from danger) with the subject either people or God. It can also mean ‘to come to assist’. The noun ((#y) conveys help, deliverance, or salvation given by God (Isa 51.5; 2 Sam. 22.36; Pss. 12.6; 18.36) or which one finds with God (2 Sam. 23.5; Isa. 45.8; 62.11; etc.). In another fifth of the instances it is the translation of the stems =+lp% and +lm. Similarly, swthri/a ‘salvation’, ‘preservation’, ‘protection’, ‘well-being’, occurs mostly (81 times) for the stem (#$y. Though the Greek also renders the stems (#$y, +lp and +lm, Fohrer detects no basic distinction in meaning and proceeds to survey the meaning of the stem (#$y in the Hebrew Bible. See also J. F. A. Sawyer, ‘(#y’, ThWAT, Band III (eds G. J. Botterweck and H. Ringgren; Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1982), cols 1035–59, and F. Stolz, ‘(#y’, ThWAT, Band I (eds E. Jenni and C. Westermann; München: C. Kaiser / Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 1984), cols 785–90. 24. Foerster, TDNT 7.973.



Introduction

5

warfare and military intervention (Judg. 2.16, 18; 3.9, 15, 31; 1 Sam. 11.9, etc.) or the resolution of legal disputes (Job 13.16). Fohrer observes that any salvific activity is limited if not validated by Yahweh (cf. Isa. 45.20b; 46.7; Jer. 2.27f; 3.23; 11.12; Hos. 14.4b) who is the orchestrator of the deliverance procured at the hands of Israel’s judges (see Judg. 2.16, 18; 3.9, 15, etc.). Salvific activity in the Hebrew Scriptures is not only mediated by people but sometimes simply by God himself (cf. Isa. 33.22; Pss. 44.3; 74.12ff; 80.2).25 This is so both in terms of temporal corporate rescue from physical calamity as well as in particularly eschatological theology with respect to deliverance, help, and salvation at the end of days (Isa. 45.17; 49.8f; cf. Isa. 43.11; 45.21; Hos. 13.4; Zech. 12.7). This sense is commonly in view with respect to the gathering and restoration of God’s dispersed people from abroad (Isa. 43.57; Jer. 31.7; 46.27; Zeph. 3.19; Zech. 8.7; Ps. 106.47). Many of these themes will be revisited in various permutations throughout the literature of the Second Temple period considered in this volume. 3. Directions for the present project The scope of this book is to pick up where various texts from the Hebrew Bible leave off with respect to the topic of soteriology, broadly conceived. Each contributor is careful to work in his respective book in such a way as to understand treatment of the subject on the book’s own terms. This does not discount issues of a document’s use of sources, and similar issues, but it does presume that documents as we have them give sensible – though at times vague, contradictory, or frustratingly incomplete – treatments of respective ‘theological’ matters. Naturally, no document is written in a theological vacuum so inevitably some consultation will be made with other documents. However, comprehensive judgments of synthesis and analysis will be reserved for the end of the book. Our volume is divided into general categories of literary genres. 3.1 Narratives The first essay is Michael F. Bird’s, ‘“Waiting for His Deliverance”: The Story of Salvation in Judith’. Bird finds that in Judith salvation is very much ‘this worldly’. God’s salvific actions on behalf of his people are restricted to a divine deliverance from a bloodthirsty monarch who usurps the roles and honour of God for himself. Yet such deliverance is dependent entirely on Israel’s behaviour, and Judith’s personal story is a microcosm of the entire narrative, since salvation is not primarily an individual matter, but corporate. Overall, Bird finds that in the book of Judith salvation is a mystery of divine purpose that is activated by the Israelites’ devotion to 25.

Foerster, TDNT 7.976.

6

This World and the World to Come

the Law and by meticulously avoiding idolatry, but always indebted to the sovereignty of God. From this Bird coins the term ‘providential nomism’ to describe soteriology in Judith. Rob Cousland’s contribution is ‘“God’s Great Deeds of Deliverance”: Soteriology in 3 Maccabees’. Following Westermann’s contention that salvation is, in part, God’s ‘activity in deliverance’, Cousland observes that 3 Maccabbees depicts almost exclusive interest in Israel, yet Israel has to uphold its part of the covenant. Besides the proper worship of God, they are to obey the law and adhere strictly to the dietary regulations (3 Macc. 3.4). Failure requires confession and repentance, so that God will show them compassion and restore their fortunes. Salvific blessings involve God’s deliverance from earthly crises, while his blessing is designed to give them as happy and fortunate an earthly life as is possible. Both of these aspects of salvation, therefore, have an entirely this-worldly dimension; there is no conception of a ‘blessed’ afterlife. Preston M. Sprinkle’s essay is ‘The Hermeneutic of Grace: The Soteriology of Pseudo-Philo’s Biblical Antiquities’. Sprinkle finds a nationalistic soteriology in which Israel is bound to their God by an irrevocable covenant. Salvation will come in the end, when God resurrects Israel, judges the wicked, and renews his creation with its paradisiacal splendour; it is an end-time restorative act. There is a relative neglect of repentance, thus downplaying the role of human agency in final salvation and underscoring the covenant. Individual Israelites are encouraged to repent from sin and obey the Torah, but if they do not, God will save them nonetheless. Israel’s future destiny in the world to come is one of eternal life, the immortal dwelling place that is not subject to time. 3.2 Apocalypses Lorenzo DiTommaso’s essay, ‘Deliverance and Justice: Soteriology in the Book of Daniel’, finds that the soteriology of Daniel reflects the circumstances of the composition of its constituent parts. The court tales of chapters 1–6 present a Deuteronomic theology of history that promotes a doctrine of personal salvation which is contingent on covenant fidelity. The revelatory visions of chapters 7–12, composed several generations later and under radically different conditions, reject this view. According to DiTommaso, they instead assume an apocalyptic theology of history, with its emphasis on corporate salvation and ultimate human destiny as the goal and scope of the divine plan. Soteriology in the visions of Daniel is almost exclusively unconditional, unilateral, and corporate, and is eschatological and otherworldly. Although the soteriologies of both halves of the book radically differ, each develops from a conception of justice.



Introduction

7

John C. Poirier’s essay is ‘On a Wing and a Prayer: The Soteriology of the Apocalypse of Abraham’. Poirier suggests the key to the Apocalypse of Abraham’s soteriological conception is election. Abraham is ‘the chosen one’, and his progeny is identified as a people set apart out of all the peoples of the earth. There is, in fact, no hint that belonging to the elect people can ever be a matter of anything other than a genetic tie to Abraham. Yet being a Jew ‘according to the flesh’ is also not a guarantee of salvation, and there seem to be hints that one may forfeit one’s membership in Israel. Nevertheless, salvation is primarily a matter of belonging to Abraham. Jonathan Moo’s article, ‘The Few Who Obtain Mercy: Soteriology in 4 Ezra’, demonstrates that salvation in 4 Ezra encompasses the hopes of nation, individual and cosmos together. The responsibility of those of Israel who can expect to participate in this salvation is described in a variety of contexts. It often involves perfect Law-obedience but also more generally as having faith/being faithful or making a fundamental choice to accept God’s offer of life. It is this choice that orientates one’s life to God’s covenant and results in perseverance and faithfulness. In any case, salvation finally depends upon God: his mercy is at work even during the present age to guide the righteous towards their promised salvation, and, at the predetermined time, he will act decisively to restore and renew individual, nation and cosmos. My own essay is ‘On the Other Side of Disaster: Soteriology in 2 Baruch’. Second Baruch exhorts its readers to be faithful to the Law despite the present tragedy. This rhetorical agenda drives the book’s soteriology, which is couched within a complicated eschatological programme. Within that programme Baruch holds out to his readers the hope of eschatological rewards which come after a season of intense tribulation. For the righteous, who adhere to the Law and endure tribulation, they will receive mercy, inherit the world to come, and receive a myriad of eschatological blessings, such as the resurrection of the dead, a heavenly Jerusalem, and a new or at least rebuilt temple where sacrifices will recommence. In ‘Personal Salvation and Rigorous Obedience: The Soteriology of 2 Enoch’, Grant Macaskill finds that strict adherence to the wisdom of Enoch, as received in his revelations, is the key criterion by which people as individuals will be judged. This is a straightforward performance-reward model of salvation, with no mention of obedience to the Mosaic code, no room for error and no accommodation for repentance. It is personal conduct as taught by Enoch that is the decisive factor in whether one enters eschatological salvation and entry into paradise, the eschatological reward prepared for those who conduct themselves in a particular way.

8

This World and the World to Come

3.3 (A Set of Some) Psalms Kenneth Atkinson’s essay is ‘Enduring the Lord’s Discipline: Soteriology in the Psalms of Solomon’. Atkinson finds that righteous suffering atones for sin and leads to salvation for those who accept God’s chastisement. Building on Sanders’ ‘covenantal nomism’, Atkinson suggests that in the Psalms of Solomon Jews were expected to obey the Law not merely as a means to get into the covenant but also to maintain one’s position in it. For the righteous, salvation is possible if it is accompanied by an inner motivation to repent. The pious must also adopt a lifestyle of constant vigilance to assure their salvation and so distinguish themselves from those who will earn God’s eternal wrath. The Davidic messiah will come, but until then the pious must remain faithful to acquire eternal life, allocated on the day of God’s visitation, when the righteous will experience resurrection. 3.4 Philosophical Texts In ‘Travelling the Royal Road: The Soteriology of Philo of Alexandria’, Ronald Cox traces Philo’s ‘ascent of the soul’ as a central soteriological feature. Philo’s allegorical interpretation of scripture leads him to articulate the experience of the human soul in its striving toward ‘becoming like God’. For the soul to achieve this heavenly state it must experience death to its material body and ascend back to its airy origins, the acquisition of true life and the overcoming of spiritual death. This is a foundational aspect to being made in God’s ‘image’, yet can only be achieved by an intermediate, the divine Logos. Salvation, then, for Philo is the return of the soul to its heavenly home and the divine Logos. Daniel J. Harrington’s essay, ‘“Saved by Wisdom” (Wis. 9.18): Soteriology in the Wisdom of Solomon’, considers the subject as the study of the process of healing or making whole and well those who need to move from one state or status to another. Harrington finds, first, that with such a rubric the author is concerned that his readers be saved from the effects of the ungodly way of life based on materialism and hedonism. Second, Harrington finds a common theme of ‘saved from ignorance’ by wisdom, which directs one to righteousness and immortality. Finally, Harrington contends that the book describes salvation from idolatry, by means of God’s ‘word’. For his readers to achieve such salvation, the author of the Wisdom of Solomon exhorts them to live righteously and wisely, to enjoy the immortality of eternal life with God. To do so they must pass the ‘scrutiny of divine judgment’ with the aid of God, his wisdom and his word.



Introduction

9

3.5 Dead Sea Scrolls Alex P. Jassen’s contribution is ‘Survival at the End of Days: Aspects of Soteriology in the Dead Sea Scrolls Pesharim’. Despite evidence wanting of a fully developed soteriology, Jassen is able to trace many of the individual elements associated with how and why one achieves eschatological salvation in the Pesharim. Jassen discerns the recipients of salvation in terms of the ‘true’ remnant of Israel, the community unique among Jews for properly upholding Israel’s covenantal obligations. It is the Dead Sea Scrolls sectarians, as the only upholders of the covenant, who are rewarded for their fidelity. Yet, it is not observance of the law alone that ensures eschatological salvation. Rather, knowledge of the law and its observance is a sine qua non of membership in the elect community. Their reward is their very survival at the end of days, though details beyond that time are sketchy. Ian Werrett’s essay is ‘Salvation through Emulation: Facets of Jubilean Soteriology at Qumran’. Finding the book of Jubilees to have an important influence on writings of the Qumran community, Werrett demonstrates how the former informs the latter in its appropriation of the patriarchs, particularly Abraham, as the archetypal models for emulation and salvation. According to Werrett, Abraham’s model of faithfulness and piety in the book of Jubilees directly influenced the Qumran community, which championed the Jubilean image of the patriarch as the ideal model of behaviour. This, Werrett describes as the ‘mimetic’ soteriology of both Jubilees and writings from Qumran, which is identified in terms of maintaining the covenantal relationship with God and ensuring his divine mercy and deliverance from the forces of evil at the end of days. Long life and unending peace are in store for those who repent their sins, enter the ranks of the Qumran community and remain faithful to the stipulations of the covenant (like Abraham), as properly interpreted by the community’s leadership. In his essay, ‘Grace, Works and Destiny: Salvation in Qumran’s Community Rule (1QS/4QS)’,26 Markus Bockmuehl finds that Qumran manifests an eschatological faith in which salvation and atonement for sins are not humanly earned. Instead, they are divinely granted by predestined election and membership in the life of the observant covenant community. Membership in that community is characterized both by a sustained individual voluntarism and by an all-embracing doctrine of divine predestination. In this respect it is also ‘legalistic’. The texts manifest an uneasy coexistence of the belief 26. This paper was originally published in 2001. Bockmuehl has more recently pointed out (in private correspondence) that discussion of the textual history of Serekh haYah. ad has progressed in such a way that he would today tend to a more nuanced account of its redaction history. Genealogical views of the textual transmission as a linear progression through various forms of a standard text are today in ongoing and lively debate with alternative approaches that tend to favour diverse coexisting versions of Serekh (quite possibly without requiring any single normative text form).

10

This World and the World to Come

that atonement for sins remains emphatically an act of God with other statements that the faith and life of the community, and of its priestly leaders in particular, is in some sense instrumental to that atonement. The texts do not support, though, a monolithic theological construct of salvation. 3.6 Rabbinic Texts Bruce Chilton’s article, ‘Messianic Redemption: Soteriology in the Targum Jonathan to the Former and Latter Prophets’, focuses on one corpus of writing within targumic literature. Chilton finds that throughout the Tannaitic and Amoraic periods, salvation – or, more properly, redemption (purqana’) – remained a pre-eminent issue, although it was understood in differing ways. At times they were concerned with messianic performance of the law in anticipation of eternal life in a re-established Jerusalem. Others presume a continuing state of exile and hope of messianic vindication, redemption, renewed dedication to the service of the Lord in his Temple, and faithfulness to the Torah. Chilton concludes that the Tannaitic framework centred on the immediate restoration of worship in the Temple, as the kingdom of God and the messiah arrive to restore Israel following the devastation of 70 ce. The Amoraic meturgeman did, to a degree, use that tradition in his exilic attempt to maintain and enhance the identity of Israel during the indeterminate number of days prior to the messiah. In his essay, ‘The Restoration of Israel: Soteriology in Rabbinic Judaism’, Jacob Neusner is concerned with salvation from the grave and for eternal life in the corpus of literature. Neusner finds that these documents deal with a promise of the restoration of Israel at the end of days. At that time the individual Israelite will rise from the dead and all Israel will be restored to the Land of Israel for eternal life. Two complementary components are addressed: restoration of private lives in resurrection (salvation), and restoration of the public order in the world to come (redemption). The former includes all Israel and will occur in the Land of Israel. It brings God’s intended plan of Edenic existence in time without end full circle. The restoration of public order signifies a final change in relationship between God and man, a model of how God and man relate that marks the utter restoration of the world order God had originally contemplated. The object of the present volume is to consider the respective voices of documents from the Second Temple period on their own first and foremost. There are many more documents that could be considered, not least 1 Enoch, Sirach, and more documents from the Judean desert. Our volume is necessarily limited; a cross-section of a much wider corpus of documents than those we are able to cover here. Of course, none of these documents is written in a literary, historical or theological isolation from one another. Therefore it is necessary to provide some degree of synthesis provided



Introduction

11

by a scholar well aware of the benefits and potential pitfalls of such an evaluation and demonstrable experience in the field. For that task George W. E. Nickelsburg brings together the constituent parts of these essays and provides a substantial conclusion to the volume. His essay, ‘Salvation among the Jews: Some Comments and Observations’, engages with the respective essays, brings some other documents into the discussion, and offers a concise synthesis.

Part I Narratives

Chapter 1

‘Waiting for His Deliverance’: The Story of Salvation in Judith Michael F. Bird 1. Introduction The book of Judith is an ancient novella1 about a Judean heroine who orchestrates the defeat of the Assyrian forces that fell upon Israel after the exile.2 In essence, it is a didactic narrative not a theological treatise, but it contains a great wealth of material reflecting on the way in which God’s deliverance works out for his people. The book speaks much to the subject of the nature of God, what God expects of his people, and how Israel can survive in a world dominated by pagan powers. Judith is well known for its laconic ironies (e.g., 6.5; 14.6)3 and double entendres (e.g., 11.6, 16, 19; 12.4, 14, 18), though it is perhaps less well known for its soteriologial paradoxes. For instance, there is an acknowledgment that salvation is a work of God while the characters of the story engage in militant activism to achieve it themselves; prayer is efficacious yet God is not moved by human pleading; the Gentiles are destined for destruction yet one of them converts; only law observant Israel can be saved while the main protagonist of the story bears false witness, commits murder, and has no respect for the dead.4 In light of 1. Erich Zenger (Exodus, Geschichte und Geschichte der Befreiung Israel’s (SBS, 75; Stuttgart, 1975), pp. 160–61) argues that Judith is more specifically an anti-Hellenistic novel. 2. For an introduction to the book and its secondary literature see Bruce M. Metzger, An Introduction to the Apocrypha (New York: Oxford University Press, 1957), pp. 43–53; Carey A. Moore, ‘Judith, Book of’, in ABD, pp. 3.117–25; Daniel J. Harrington, Introduction to the Apocrypha (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), pp. 27–43; Betsy Halpern-Amaru, ‘Judith, book of’, in The Eerdmans Dictionary of Early Judaism (eds John J. Collins and Daniel C. Harlow; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), pp. 855–7. 3. Cf. L. Alonso-Schökel, ‘Narrative Structures in the Book of Judith’, in Protocol Series of the Colloquies of the Centre for Hermeneutical Studies in Hellenistic and Modern Culture 11 (Berkeley: Graduate Theol. Union and University of California, 1975), pp. 1–20; Carey A. Moore, Judith: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB, 40; New York: Doubleday, 1985), pp. 78–85. 4. For the socio-cultural context of Judith’s actions, with a view to its appropriateness to rescue Israel’s honour, see, David A. deSilva, ‘Judith the Heroine? Lies, Seduction, and Murder in Cultural Perspective’, BTB 36 (2006), pp. 55–61.

16

This World and the World to Come

those paradoxes, the objective of this study is to identify the soteriological structures and agents in the book of Judith. The way that this will be achieved is by examining the act and actors of salvation in Judith. 2. Contents, provenance and purpose Before delving into the nature of salvation in Judith it is necessary first to briefly recapitulate the book’s contents, provenance, and purpose. Chapters 1–7 centre on the invasion of Palestine by the Assyrian forces, while chapters 8–16 focus on Judith’s deliverance of Judea. In the beginning of the story, Nebuchadnezzar intends to make war on the Medes in Ecbatana, but his call for reinforcements from several western territories is ignored. So after capturing Ecbatana he sets out to get revenge on the territories that ignored his summons. To that end he despatches his general Holofernes on a military expedition to execute judgment against those territories for their disloyalty (1.1–2.13). After various campaigns Holofernes eventually reaches Samaria (2.14–3.10). When the Judeans hear of the imminent threat they are alarmed and take to prayer, fasting and wearing sack cloth as they fear the sacking of Jerusalem and the desecration of the temple so soon after its rebuilding (4.1-15). Holofernes prepares to make war on Judea, but the Ammonite leader Achior warns Holofernes that he can only defeat the Judean nation if they sin against their God because their God defends them. In response to this insubordinate belief that there is a god other than Nebuchadnezzar, Holofernes banishes Achior to the Samaritan town of Bethulia where he will have to make common cause with them and share their fate. As it turns out, the townsfolk warmly receive Achior after hearing of his ordeal (5.1–6.21). Under advice from the Edomites and Moabites, Holofernes decides to deprive Bethulia of water, forcing their surrender. The townsfolk despair for their lives and take an oath to surrender in five days if God does not otherwise deliver them (7.1-32). Then the widow Judith enters the frame and she is described as a very beautiful and very pious woman. She denounces their oath as angering God and putting him to the test. She urges them to persevere until her own plan comes to fruition (8.1-36). Judith then prays that her plan would succeed and that God would rescue her from the Assyrians (9.1-14). Soon afterwards, Judith makes herself incredibly beautiful and prepares some kosher food. Judith and her maid approach the Assyrian camp requesting to see Holofernes who receives her. In her dialogue with Holofernes she affirms Achior’s claims that only a disobedient Israel can be defeated, but she points out that the townsfolk of Bethulia intend to kill the firstborn of their livestock and consume the first fruits of grain and wine which the law forbids them from doing. That will be the opportune time for Holofernes to attack and he agrees entirely enthralled by her appearance and words (10.1–11.23). Judith remains in Holofernes’ company for three days, going out in the evenings to bathe and to pray. On the fourth night, Holofernes plans to seduce her, but he gets drunk and



‘Waiting for His Deliverance’

17

Judith decapitates him in his inebriated slumber. She then flees the camp and journeys back to Bethulia with Holofernes’ head in her bag. Achior confirms that it is the head of Holofernes and he agrees to be circumcised and join the house of Israel. When the death of Holofernes is discovered by the Assyrians it prompts panic in their camp and as they hastily flee they are completely routed (12.1–15.7). The defeat of the Assyrians is followed by the lauding of Judith’s actions and virtues by the high priest, elders of Jerusalem, and by the women of Israel. Judith sings a song of praise to God for her victory. The final note of the story is about Judith’s dedication of vessels to the temple and her great fame in Israel (15.8–16.25). As for provenance, given its strong Semitic qualities, it is likely that Judith was originally written in Hebrew or Aramaic, probably during the Hasmonean period in Palestine.5 That time frame is probable since the cult of Nebuchadnezzar is analogous to the Gentile cult that Antiochus Epiphanes IV attempted to impose on Judea (see Jdt. 3.8; 4.12; 1 Macc. 1.20-64), the routing of Holofernes’ forces is reminiscent of Judas Maccabees’ victory over Nicanor (see Jdt. 14.11–15.7; 1 Macc. 7.43-50), and Bethulia is located in Samaria which came under Judean control during the reign of John Hyrcanus I (c. 135–104 bce).6 Likewise, the concern for the purity of the temple and the zeal of the populace is distinctly Maccabean in ideology. Indeed, apart from alms giving, virtually all the predominant traditions of Maccabean pharisaism are mentioned.7 The military threat to Israel might conceivably represent a metaphorical description of the battle against Hellenism.8 While the work is anonymous, it can be safely attributed to a Judean author with Maccabean political sympathies, priestly loyalty, and a pharisaic or hasidic piety. The purpose of Judith is to show that the God of Israel is infinitely superior to the self-deified monarchs of the east as pagan kingdoms cannot defeat an Israel that remains faithful to God.9 What is more, it is by the hand a Hebrew woman that God has brought down the army of such a mighty

5. For a diasporan provenance, see M. S. Enslin and S. Zeitlin, The Book of Judith (Leiden: Brill, 1972), pp. 31–2. 6. Moore (Judith, pp. 67–8) is then probably correct to date the book during the time of John Hycanus. 7. Bruce M. Metzger and Roland E. Murphy (eds), The New Oxford Annotated Apocrypha (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991), p. 20. 8. Philip R. Davies, ‘Didactic Stories’, in Justification and Variegated Nomism: Volume 1 – The Complexities of Second Temple Judaism (eds D. A. Carson, P. T. O’Brien, and M. A. Seifrid; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), pp. 99–134 (115). 9. Erich Zenger (Das Buch Judit (eds W. G. Kümmel and H. Lictenberger; JSHRZ, 1.6; Gutersloh: Gutersloher Verlagshaus, 1981), pp. 432–3) sees the central theme of the book as the confrontation between Yahweh and Nebuchadnezzar as to who really is God. Benedit Otzen (Tobit and Judith (London: Sheffield Academic, 2002), p. 101) suggests several Old Testament narratives might have inspired Judith including 2 Kgs 18.19-25 (the Sennacherib episode), Isa. 10.12-15 (the Assyrian march on Jerusalem), and Isa. 14.12-20 (the fall of the king of Babylon).

18

This World and the World to Come

nation, underscoring the power and triumph of Israel’s God all the more (Jdt. 8.33; 9.9-10; 12.4; 13.4, 14-15; 14.18; 15.10; 16.5). 3. The act of salvation: deliverance from a malevolent monarch In Judith, salvation is very much this worldly. There are only a few references to miracles and appeals for radical divine intervention (Jdt. 5.13-14; cf. 8.31), but nothing miraculous transpires in the story itself. In Judith, God’s salvific actions on behalf of his people are restricted to a divine providence that works events out for the benefit of Israel. But such providence is conditional in that God orchestrates events so that Israel experiences either prosperity or punishment depending entirely on their behaviour. Throughout the book, salvation is conceived of principally as deliverance from a bloodthirsty megalomaniac monarch of the east who usurps the roles and honour of God for himself. Expectedly, then, there is a very large emphasis on the security of the temple from desecration and the protection of Jerusalem from destruction. The survival of the populace is also a matter of major concern as the Assyrian threat could result in utter annihilation for the Judeans. In addition, there is the anomaly of the Gentile mercenary Achior who converts at the end of the narrative, and salvation for him is a slightly different matter. Ultimately, then, this is what salvation means in Judith: the survival of place and people in the face of pagan military aggression and God’s continued blessing of his people. Nebuchadnezzar is very much the arch-villain of the story and he operates through his general Holofernes. Historically speaking, the story is wildly anachronistic as it presents Nebuchadnezzar as king of a post-exilic Assyria (Jdt. 1.1; 4.3) when he was in fact king of the Neo-Babylonian empire preexile (c. 605–562 bce). Yet the anachronism might well be deliberate as it telescopes the Assyrian, Babylonian and Persian kingdoms as well as the Canaanite tribes into a single force (cf. Jdt. 5.3, 5; 7.8, 18; 16.3, 10). An infamous Babylonian king reigning over Assyria and conquering parts of Media and Persia, with the support of the Edomites and Ammonites, is a hybrid representative of the pagan kingdoms of the ancient near east who attempted to destroy and to subjugate the nation of Israel.10 The portrayal of Nebuchadnezzar as the quintessential pagan monarch who has his own cultus and usurps the authority of a god is highlighted at several points. First, after the successful conquest of Ecbatana, Nebuchadnezzar plots revenge against those territories that did not come to his aid when summoned. He announces a list of punishments that Holofernes is to exact upon these purportedly insolent subjects. The king announces that: ‘For as I live, and by the power of my kingdom, what I have spoken I will accomplish by my own hand’ (Jdt. 2.12). Notably these words are the complete reverse of the commandments against venerating the achievements of one’s ‘own hand’ 10.

See survey of solutions in Otzen, Tobit and Judith, pp. 83–7.



‘Waiting for His Deliverance’

19

over and against YHWH in the Hebrew Bible (Deut. 8.17-20; Judg. 7.2). Second, after sweeping through parts of Syria, Asia Minor, and Phoenicia, it is said about Holofernes that: ‘[H]e demolished all their shrines and cut down their sacred groves; for he had been commissioned to destroy all the gods of the land, so that all nations should worship Nebuchadnezzar alone, and that all their dialects and tribes should call upon him as a god’ (Jdt. 3.8). The reference to ‘worship Nebuchadnezzar alone’ marks him out as the anti-type of Israel’s worship of the ‘one’ God YHWH (Deut. 6.4-5; Isa. 44.6). Third, when Achior tells Holofernes that if Israel does not sin against God, then their God will defend them (Jdt. 5.21), Holofernes aggressively retorts: ‘What god is there except Nebuchadnezzar?’ (Jdt. 6.2). Indeed, the portrait of Nebuchadnezzar here is largely drawn up in light of descriptions of Antiochus Epiphanes IV (cf. 1 Macc. 1.21-24; Josephus, Ant. 12.14657), but intensified further to assert the claims of his royal divinity in even bolder terms. Yet Nebuchadnezzar’s plan fails due to the machination of the Hebrew woman Judith. At the heart of the story is that ‘One Hebrew woman has brought disgrace on the house of King Nebuchadnezzar’ (Jdt. 14.18) by slaying the Assyrian general which led to the routing of the Assyrian Army. Very important to the narration is the preservation of Jerusalem and the temple. When the Assyrian forces approach Judea, the Israelites were alarmed for both ‘Jerusalem and for the temple of the Lord their God’ (Jdt. 4.2). That is because the Assyrians ‘intend to defile your sanctuary, and to pollute the tabernacle where your glorious name resides, and to break off the horns of your altar with the sword’ (Jdt. 9.8). Similarly, it is said that the Assyrians ‘have planned cruel things against your covenant, and against your sacred house, and against Mount Zion, and against the house your children possess’ (Jdt. 9.13). Note how covenant, temple, and people are all interrelated at this point as they form a symbiotic circle and what happens to one effects the other. This is all the more poignant since it is said that the people had only recently returned from exile and reconsecrated the temple (Jdt. 4.3) and it plays on the fear that the temple would again be ‘razed to the ground’ as it was during the previous exile (Jdt. 5.18). In Judith’s speech, she declares that the lives of their kindred as well as the sanctuary depend on the town of Bethulia not surrendering as it is a strategic bottleneck to Jerusalem (Jdt. 8.21). But salvation is not restricted to the preservation of the temple; it goes beyond that. Uzziah prays that God would fulfil Judith’s plan so that, ‘the people of Israel may glory and Jerusalem may be exalted’ (Jdt. 10.8). Just before she beheads Holofernes, Judith prays that what she does is for the ‘exaltation of Jerusalem’ (Jdt. 13.4) that is part of Israel’s supremacy over the nations.11 In addition, there is a double jeopardy with the temple and Jerusalem. The destruction of Jerusalem and desecration of the temple is an act of divine punishment (Jdt. 5.18; 8.18-19), and yet if the Bethuliates allow the temple to be desecrated once more, God will duly punish them for 11. Don B. Garlington, The Obedience of Faith: A Pauline Phrase in Historical Context (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1991), p. 185.

20

This World and the World to Come

it (Jdt. 8.21-25). Specifically, ‘[H]e will make us pay for its desecration with our blood’ and ‘the slaughter of our kindred and the captivity of the land and the desolation of our inheritance – all this he will bring on our heads’ (Jdt. 8.21-22). If Israel is idolatrous then they risk God bringing judgment on Jerusalem. Even worse, God will punish the Israelites for its destruction with slavery, slaughter, dispossession of the land and divine disfavour. The picture compounds judgment upon judgment for the failure of the Israelites. Alternatively, an obedient and pious Israel will see Jerusalem exalted, that is, placed in a position of religious glory, territorial dominance, and divine favour. Thus, the protection of the temple is important as it is bound up with the continuing covenant relationship between Israel and God. For the inhabitants of Jerusalem and Judea, salvation is defined in terms of peace, well-being and prosperity. Concerning Israel’s history, it is said in Achior’s speech that the nation’s obedience would lead to material prosperity (Jdt. 5.9, 17; cf. 11.10-15) and that Israel’s God will defend an innocent nation from attack (Jdt. 5.21; 6.2). In the face of the Assyrian threat the priests pray that the Lord might ‘look with favour on the whole house of Israel’ (Jdt. 4.15). Uzziah urges the town to hold out in the hope that ‘the Lord our God will turn his mercy to us again, for he will not forsake us utterly’ though he leaves open the possibility that the Lord just might forsake them and they will have to go it alone (Jdt. 7.30-31). Later on, after decapitating Holofernes, Judith celebrates that God did not withdraw his mercy from Israel (Jdt. 13.14). At several places in the narrative there are prayers and pleas for God to save them from their enemies though without saying exactly how he ought to do it (e.g., Jdt. 7.19; 13.5). From a phenomenal point of view, deliverance is characterized as the removal of the threat of war upon the people, especially violence inflicted on women, infants, and the pillaging of towns (Jdt. 4.12; 8.22; 16.4). Imprecatory prayers are offered that God would take ‘revenge’ (e0kdi/khsij) on those who would do violence to Israel, against those who trust in their own strength, and against all who do not know the Lord (Jdt. 8.35; 9.2-4, 7-10; 16.17). Obviously the character of Judith is central to the story and her own deliverance is a microcosm of the entire narrative. Judith is noted for her piety and devotion at every opportunity which marks her out as the key agent of Israel’s rescue (Jdt. 8.1-8; 16.19-25). The passages of the book that speak most to the matter of salvation, its causes and modes, are her speech to the townsfolk of Bethulia (Jdt. 8.11-27), her prayer before leaving Bethulia (Jdt. 9.2-14), and her song of praise during the victory celebrations (Jdt. 16.1-17). In language highly reminiscent of the Psalms, all three discourses highlight Israel’s reliance on God for salvation. The first discourse exhorts the township to ‘wait for his deliverance’ (dio&per a)name/nontej th\n par ) au)tou~ swthri/an (8.17)). In the prayer in Bethulia she appeals to what God has ‘done’ in the past and ‘designed’ for the future and wants all Israel to know that the Lord is ‘the God of all power and might, and that there is no other who protects the people of Israel but you alone!’ (qeo_j pa&shj duna&mewj kai\ kra&touj kai\ ou)k e1stin a!lloj u(peraspi/zwn tou~ ge/nouj Israhl ei0 mh\ su/



‘Waiting for His Deliverance’

21

(9.14)). In the song of praise, Judith celebrates that ‘he delivered me from the hands of my pursuers’ (e0cei/lato& me e0k xeiro_j katadiwko&ntown me (16.2)). In the end, Judith looks and acts much like a Hasmonean heroine and her name ‘Judith’ (Ioudiq) may well be a feminine play on ‘Judas’ (Iou/daj) the Maccabean.12 There are also comic and ironic elements to Judith’s deliverance from Holofernes. The Assyrian soldiers tell Judith that by surrendering, ‘You have saved your life’ (Jdt. 10.15), even though Holofernes will intend to seduce her (Jdt. 12.11-12). There is an obvious double meaning to her statements to Holofernes that, ‘If you follow out the words of your servant, God will accomplish something through you, and my lord will not fail to achieve his purposes’ and ‘God has sent me to accomplish with you things that will astonish the whole world wherever people shall hear about them’ (Jdt. 11.6, 16). When Holofernes thinks he is going the lay the beautiful Hebrew woman at a private party, ‘Judith said, “I will gladly drink, my lord, because today is the greatest day in my whole life”’ (Jdt. 12.18). Although Judith calls on the people to wait for his deliverance, she herself does not wait; instead she concocts and executes her plan to murder Holofernes. There are prayers by Judith and Uzziah for God to bless her ‘plan’ and her ‘deceitful words’ (Jdt. 9.9, 13; 10.8; 13.5). As the story unfolds, it is stated that the Lord protected Judith, guided her, and gave her strength (Jdt. 13.7, 16, 18). In response to her pious treachery, Uzziah praises her as blessed, he declares that her praise will never depart from the hearts of those who remember God’s power, he asks that God grant her a perpetual honour (Jdt. 13.20), and she is lauded by the populace (Jdt. 15.11-14). Salvation is obviously about deliverance from the violence wrought by the Gentiles. In the book, the Gentiles are a malicious force bent on killing the vulnerable, pillaging the towns, enslaving the survivors, and defiling the sanctuary (Jdt. 1.12; 8.22; 16.4). Such things are considered the ‘the malicious joy of the Gentiles’ (Jdt. 4.12). The portrait of the Gentiles as rapacious, predatory, lawless, and idolatrous corresponds with that same picture in 1–2 Maccabees and the Qumran scrolls. The last stanza of Judith’s song is a woe against the nations who rise up against Israel (Jdt. 16.17). However, in Judith as in other Jewish writings of the time, God’s deliverance of Israel takes on an almost kerygmatic character to the surrounding nations. Judith’s prayer ends, ‘Let your whole nation and every tribe know and understand that you are God, the God of all power and might, and that there is no other who protects the people of Israel but you alone!’ (Jdt. 9.14). That is similar to 1 Maccabees where Judas rallies his forces by telling them that should God come to their aid, ‘Then all the Gentiles will know that there is one who redeems and saves Israel’ (1 Macc. 4.11). This allows us to account for the inclusion of Achior in the ‘house of Israel’ and his 12. Cf. Jan Willem van Henten, ‘Judith as Alternative Leader: A Rereading of Judith 7–13’, in A Feminist Companion to Esther, Judith and Susanna (ed. Athalya Brenner; London: T&T Clark, 2004), pp. 224–52 (243–6).

22

This World and the World to Come

apparent ‘salvation’ despite the fact that he is a Gentile and an Ammonite no less (see Deut. 23.3, where Ammonites are excluded from the assembly of the Lord to the tenth generation). Achior is the leader of the Ammonites, a mercenary (misqeto&j), who informs Holofernes about Israel’s history from Abraham to the exile and how they are invulnerable to attack because God will defend them (Jdt. 5.17, 21). Their only weakness is their failure to obey the Lord, whereupon they are susceptible to defeat and ruin. That narration is regarded by Holofernes and his officers as contemptuous of the strength of the Babylonian army and the might of the Babylonian godking Nebuchadnezzar. Achior is subsequently seized and handed over to the Israelites at Bethulia (Jdt. 5.22–6.13). Uzziah comforts and praises Achior and his reception in the town includes a banquet and a night of calling on God for help (Jdt. 6.20-21). Later on, before Holofernes, Judith confirms the view of Achior that Israel is invincible unless they sin and she reports that the people of Bethulia spared Achior (Jdt. 11.9-10). In many ways, Holofernes’ dispatching of Achior turns out to be for the good fortune of Achior. He is banished to what will finally be the winning side and he has a key place in the story as he confirms the death of Holofernes. After Judith decapitates Holofernes and brings it back to town, Achior confirms that the head indeed is that of Holofernes. His response described in Jdt. 14.6-10 is most telling: When he came and saw the head of Holofernes in the hand of one of the men in the assembly of the people, he fell down on his face in a faint. When they raised him up he threw himself at Judith’s feet, and did obeisance to her, and said, ‘Blessed are you in every tent of Judah! In every nation those who hear your name will be alarmed. Now tell me what you have done during these days.’ So Judith told him in the presence of the people all that she had done, from the day she left until the moment she began speaking to them. When she had finished, the people raised a great shout and made a joyful noise in their town. When Achior saw all that the God of Israel had done, he believed firmly in God. So he was circumcised, and joined the house of Israel, remaining so to this day (i0dw_n de\ Axiwr pa&nta o3sa e0poi/hsen o( qeo_j tou~ Israhl e0pisteusen tw~| qew~| sfo&dra kai\ periete/meto th\n sa&rka th=j a)krobusti/aj au)tou= kai\ prosete/qh ei0j to\n oi]kon 0Israhl).

Achior’s knowledge of Israel’s covenant history is now updated with Judith’s tale of how God blessed her plan and how he showed his power through her. Achior accordingly converts. What is envisaged here is not ‘mission’ but a mixture of nationalism and proselytism. The conversion of Achior stems from neither the propagation of Torah as spasmodically undertaken in synagogues of the Greek Diaspora, nor from the zealous manner of forced conversions that transpired in Palestine at the height of the Hasmonean expansion.13 Instead, it describes how God’s deliverance of Israel can result in surviving Gentiles being attracted to Israel on the basis of Israel’s experience of divine favour. In which case, Gentile subjects are accordingly integrated into Israel

13. See further Michael F. Bird, Crossing Over Sea and Land: Jewish Missionary Activity in the Second Temple Period (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2010).



‘Waiting for His Deliverance’

23

via circumcision (see also Est. 8.17). It is hardly prescriptive for all Gentiles and this conversion emphasizes the Jewish triumph over paganism.14 I certainly doubt whether Achior’s speech in Judith 5 can be characterized as a ‘Jewish-Hellenistic mission homily’ since it lacks calls for circumcision and looks more like a mix of religio-national triumphalism and prophetic admonishment against idolatry, which are ‘insider’ issues.15 But it is likely that, as Otzen suggests, Achior is ‘a symbolic representation of the fate of the proselyte who participates in the suffering and salvation of the chosen people’.16 Furthermore, it is certainly interesting that Achior is admitted to the congregation of Israel since he is an Ammonite as they are expressly forbidden by Torah from entering the assembly of Israel (Deut. 23.3). Thus, the inclusion of Achior may witness to a more inclusive strand of Judaism within Palestinian Judaism and a more open attitude to Gentile conversion. Narratively speaking, Achior’s conversion is subservient to the larger theme that Israel’s God, not Nebuchadnezzar, is the only God and the vindication of those faithful to God. Achior’s transformation from an ally of the Assyrians to a convert of Israel’s God highlights the victory of God and the vindication of the Torah-centred life.17 In the book of Judith, then, salvation consists of the security of Jerusalem, the preserved holiness of its temple, the survival of the people, God allowing Judith’s plan to succeed, and the initiation of Achior into Israel. Thus, the salvation of Judea and Jerusalem is the proof that YHWH is the God who defends Israel over and against the pretentious potentate Nebuchadnezzar. 4. The actors of salvation: the pleasure and purpose of God evoked by piety and prayer The agents of salvation in the narrative are God, the general populace, Israel, and Judith. All four contribute in some way to the realization of salvation in the narrative. First, concerning God, there are no references to unmediated acts of salvation found (except when it is remembered God dried up the Red Sea at Jdt. 5.13). The Lord is only once the subject of a sentence uttered by the narrator and that is when he hears the Jerusalemites’ prayers (Jdt. 4.13). Furthermore, in the reference to the return from exile there is no explicit 14. Cf. Sidnie Ann White, ‘In the Steps of Jael and Deborah: Judith as Heroine’, in No one Spoke Ill of Her: Essays on Judith (ed. J. C. VanderKam; SBLEJL, 2; Atlanta: Scholars, 1992), pp. 5–16 (10); Adolfo D. Roitman, ‘Achior in the Book of Judith: His Role and Significance’, in No one Spoke Ill of Her: Essays on Judith (ed. J. C. VanderKam; SBLEJL, 2; Atlanta: Scholars, 1992), pp. 31–45 (39). 15. Cf. Erich Zenger, ‘Der Juditroman als Traditionsmodell des Jahwesglauben’, TTZ 83 (1974), pp. 65–80 (75–6). 16. Otzen, Tobit and Judith, p. 108. See also Davies, ‘Didactic Stories’, p. 116. 17. Terence L. Donaldson, Judaism and the Gentiles: Jewish Patterns of Universalism (to 135 CE) (Waco: Baylor University Press, 2007), p. 59.

24

This World and the World to Come

mention of God bringing them out of exile. It is not the case that ‘the return from exile was a reward for turning back to God’ as Harrington supposes.18 Rather, the return from exile sounds more like a mere happenstance than a divinely achieved new exodus à la Deutero-Isaiah (Jdt. 5.17-21; 8.19-20). While God’s presence with Israel in the exodus is affirmed, it is notably absent in the return from exile, though what this means is no doubt moot. What emerges in Judith is that God orders events for the benefit of Israel and superintends the fate of certain individuals to achieve his peculiar ends. In Judith’s prayer she recognizes that God has determined the things that happened in the past, but also in the present, and in the future. She acknowledges that God’s ways are ‘prepared in advance’ (e9toi=moj) and his judgements are according to ‘foreknowledge’ (pro&gnwsij) (Jdt. 9.5-6). That coheres with an earlier speech by Judith to the elders that God’s ways are mysterious and inscrutable with the corollary that the same is true of the manifestation of his deliverance for Israel (Jdt. 8.14-16). There is also a strong note of sovereignty and determinism in the song at the closing of the book where Judith sings: ‘I will sing to my God a new song: O Lord, you are great and glorious, wonderful in strength, invincible. Let all your creatures serve you, for you spoke, and they were made. You sent forth your spirit, and it formed them; there is none that can resist your voice’ (kai\ ou0k e1stin o3j a)ntisth/setai th=| fwnh=| sou) (Jdt. 16.13-14). That corresponds with the characterization of God as the ‘Lord Almighty’ (ku&rioj pantokra&twr) (Jdt. 4.13; 8.13; 15.10; 16.5, 17) and the ‘Lord who crushes wars’ (ku&rioj suntri/bwn pole/mouj) (Jdt. 9.7; 16.2). In the narrative, God is the allpowerful guardian of Israel, but his actions for Israel are mediated through his providential superintending of events and people. Elsewhere there is special attention given to God’s power and authority to deliver Israel. Judith rebukes the elders for their willingness to surrender the town because outside of their five day time line to surrender, ‘[H]e has power (e0cousi/a) to protect us within any time he pleases’ (Jdt. 8.15). Judith’s prayer appeals to God to act in order that the surrounding nations and tribes might know of his ‘power and might’ (duna&mewj kai\ kra&touj) (Jdt. 9.14). On re-entering Bethuliah with the head of Holofernes, Judith exclaims, ‘God, our God, is with us, still showing his power (i0sxu/j) in Israel and his strength (kra&toj) against our enemies’ (Jdt. 13.11). In Uzziah’s eulogy for Judith, he notes that her praise will never depart from those who ‘remember the power of God’ (mnhmoneuo&ntwn i0sxu\n qeou~) (Jdt. 13.19). In the story, Israel is acknowledged as utterly powerless and consequently they rely exclusively on God’s power to deliver them (Jdt. 5.23; 7.4-5, 19-29). Appeal is also made to certain aspects of God’s character. Judith’s prayer appeals to God on two fronts. To begin with he is ‘God of the lowly, helper of the oppressed, upholder of the weak, protector of the forsaken, saviour of those without hope’ (Jdt. 9.11). God’s concern for the lowly, downtrodden, 18.

Harrington, Apocrypha, p. 32.



‘Waiting for His Deliverance’

25

and oppressed is common in the Hebrew Bible and reappears here (e.g., Pss. 9.9; 10.12, 18; 69.32; 72.13; 82.3-4; Isa. 51.14; 52.4; 61.1; Ezek. 34.16). Second, Judith pleads, ‘Please, please, God of my father, God of the heritage of Israel, Lord of heaven and earth, Creator of the waters, King of all your creation, hear my prayer!’ (Jdt. 9.12). The ‘heritage of Israel’ (klhronomi/aj Israhl) is mentioned again in her prayer just before she kills Holofernes, ‘Now indeed is the time to help your heritage’ (Jdt. 13.5). The faithfulness of God to his chosen people is thought to be a further motivating factor for his actions. To this we can add that reference to divine mercy is prominent as well. Uzziah exhorts the people with the words, ‘Let us hold out for five days more; by that time the Lord our God will turn his mercy (e1leoj au0tou~) to us again, for he will not forsake us utterly’ (Jdt. 7.30). Standing at the gates with Holofernes’ head in her bag, Judith bursts in praise to God ‘who has not withdrawn his mercy (e1leoj au0tou~) from the house of Israel’ (Jdt. 13.14). Then in the victory song, Judith celebrates: ‘For the mountains shall be shaken to their foundations with the waters; before your glance the rocks shall melt like wax. But to those who fear you, you show mercy to them’ (su\ eu0ilateu&seij au)toi~j) (Jdt. 16.15). The salvation of God, then, is motivated by God’s special concern for the oppressed, his faithfulness to Israel, and by his sheer mercy. Second, the other main actor is the populace in general with their appeal to God by prayers and petitions. In the face of the military threat, the leading priests take measures to secure the routes into Judea (Jdt. 4.6-7), but they also lead the prayers and sacrifices on behalf of the people (Jdt. 4.14). What is particularly emphasized is the efficacy of prayer, fasting, and self-humiliation as the means for appeal to God (4.8-12, 14-15; 6.18-21; 7.19, 29; 8.4-8, 17, 31; 9.1–10.3; 10.8). Equally important is what is not done, specifically, sinning against God, shunning idol worship (Jdt. 5.17, 21; 8.18, 20; 11.10), and not putting God to the test (Jdt. 8.12-14). The qualities of the people are emphasized in their zeal for God and their hatred of the pollution of their bloodline (Jdt. 9.2-4). In passing, it is noted that during the exile the Judeans ‘returned to their God’ and then returned to the land (Jdt. 5.19), indicating the value placed on national repentance. On the whole, the prayers and petitions are successful. The prayers of the people (Jdt. 4.13) and also of Judith (13.11-14) are heard by God and he acts on their behalf. A final characteristic of the people is simply their faith and trust in God. Judith’s speech to the town is that they must entrust themselves to the inscrutable ways of God (Jdt. 8.15-17), while for Achior it meant believing that God is the God who saves Israel (14.10). Third, Israel as the elect people are simultaneously the object of salvation and actors in its realization in the book. In fact, the town of Bethuliah becomes symbolic of the struggle of the chosen nation in the face of the Assyrian peril. It not simply the piety of the populace in general, but their identity and actions as the elected people that shapes the contours of salvation in the book. By and large God’s covenant history with Israel is interpreted in largely Deuteronomistic terms (Jdt. 5.5-16). Israel fares well or poorly

26

This World and the World to Come

in accordance with their fidelity to ‘the way [their God] has prescribed for them’ (Jdt. 5.18). The importance of obedience for salvation is underscored by Solomon Zeitlin: ‘The book of Judith is primarily a religious book, emphasizing that righteousness will triumph and that the children of Israel will be victorious over their enemies as long as they obey the laws of God. The author stresses the obedience to God, to fulfil all His precepts’.19 Similar is Philip Davies: ‘[T]he theology of Judith is basically Deuteronomistic: if Israel keeps the divine law it is inviolate; only if it sins can it be overcome by foreign nations. The secret of national survival is rigid adherence to the divine laws, particularly the cultic laws’.20 In the end, salvation is not primarily an individual matter, but corporate. The individual owes his or her nation total obedience to the Law given to them. Judith very much earns her own earthly reward as a faithful Israelite, although in the case of Achior his entrance into the congregation of Israel is a matter of gracious inclusion given his former military loyalties.21 Yet the achievement of Judith and the conversion of Achior are part of larger events that take place in and around the nation of Israel and Israel’s fate hinges on the two figures. A significant sub-theme is how Israel responds under trial. It is noted that there is historical continuity between post-exilic Israel and their pre-exilic forefathers (i.e., Abraham in Canaan and the Hebrews in the exodus) as both are tested by God (Jdt. 8.25-27) and Israel can either fail or succeed in that test (Jdt. 7.28; 8.19). It is noted by both Achior (Jdt. 5.17-19) and by Judith (Jdt. 8.18-20) that Israel has been an object of God’s judgement in the past. Accordingly, the Israelites must fear his anger and not transgress his commandments (Jdt. 11.11-15). However, divine punishment lasts only for a time whereas it is severe towards foreigners (Jdt. 16.17), showing that judgment itself still functions within the aegis of the covenant relationship between the electing God and the elected people. Election is a guarantee of chastisement that can be either for revenge, testing, or for admonishment (Jdt. 8.27). Yet the judgement of God, however severe, is never quite the end as God himself can answer the petitions of the people who fear him (Jdt. 4.13; 16.13-17). The election of Israel looms around the edges of the story and shapes the expectations and actions of the Israelites. There is an implied reference to election through the mention of the ‘heritage of Israel’ (Jdt. 9.12; cf. 13.5) which forms the grounds of Judith’s plea and the basis of God’s intervention. The only other echo of election is when it is said that they had abandoned the ways of their ancestors, worshipped the God of heaven, come to know God, God dried up the Red Sea for them, and God led them through Sinai into Kadesh-Barnea (Jdt. 5.7-14). But there is no explicit reference to God’s call of Israel, nor any guarantee that election will ensure salvation. Salvation

19. 20. 21.

Enslin and Zeitlin, Judith, p. 33. Davies, ‘Didactic Stories’, p. 117. Davies, ‘Didactic Stories’, pp. 119–21.



‘Waiting for His Deliverance’

27

is contingent upon how the elect act (Jdt. 5.17; 8.20; 11.10). Viewed this way, God’s salvation of Israel is ‘morally conditioned’.22 Yet Don Garlington is not quite correct that the burden of Judith is to: ‘[P]romote the idea that God’s own people – the poor and oppressed – are the peculiar objects of his esteem. If they are faithful, they can always rely on him to deliver them’.23 For due allowance is made for the fact that things might not always work out like this (Jdt. 7.30-31; 8.15-17; cf. Dan. 3.18). As G. W. E. Nickelsburg states: ‘The God of Judith is the deliverer of his people, yet he remains sovereign and not obligated to act on their behalf (8:15-17)’.24 Even the faithful and law obedient can only ‘call upon him to help us’ and see if salvation is what ‘he pleases’ (Jdt. 8.15). Or else they can simply ‘hope’ that God will ‘not disdain them’ (Jdt. 8.20). Whereas Achior summarizes the Deuteronomic tradition as ‘win or sin’, Judith introduces the notion of testing to explain how one can be innocent and yet things can still go wrong.25 On the one hand, this allowance leaves room for both divine freedom and the inscrutability of divine actions (and the task of theodicy in Jewish theologizing was to demonstrate that this was not divine caprice (e.g., Job 40–42)!). On the other hand, there are no grounds for absolute assurance, not even for the faithful law-keeping Israelites.26 Viewed this way, salvation is a mystery, though God will generally respond favourably to the pious, though this is not an incontrovertible dictum. Fourth, salvation is achieved by the actions of key individuals such as Achior, Uzziah, and especially Judith. Judith is noted for her wisdom, piety, wealth, celibacy, and beauty (Jdt. 8.1-8, 29; 9.1; 10.1-3; 16.19-22). She is everything that a widow is not meant to be. Instead of being weak, helpless, and reliant, Judith is strong, proactive, and defiant. She exemplifies the right attitude to God and suffering understood in light of Israel’s history and in full appreciation of God’s providence (Jdt. 8.12-16). Judith is reminiscent of other ancient female heroes of Israel like Deborah, Jael and Esther who delivered Israel from peril. Judith appears as a feminine version of Judas Maccabees who fights against the Assyrians with every weapon of beauty and cunning in her feminine arsenal (note how Judas also decapitates his pagan foe Nicanor (2 Macc. 15.35)). She could potentially be a female counterpart to Moses given the parallels between Exodus 15 (Song of Moses) and Judith 16 (Song of Judith). Indeed, the book of Judith could be conceived of as

22. Robert H. Pfeiffer, The History, Religion and Literature of Israel (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University, 1925), p. 302. 23. Garlington, The Obedience of Faith, p. 177. 24. G. W. E. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature Between the Bible and the Mishnah: A Literary and Historical Introduction (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1981), p. 107. 25. Moore, Judith, p. 63. 26. Contrast Morton Enslin who comments on 11.10, ‘so long as they do not sin – and this involves ritual as well as morality – God’s people are sure of his protection’ (Enslin and Zeitlin, Judith, p. 138). Yet too many qualifications are made in Judith with respect to God’s salvation not being presumed upon for there to be complete assurance.

28

This World and the World to Come

partly a Maccabean Midrash on Exodus 15 with a feminine twist.27 It is also possible to see Judith as the exemplary Israelite or as a symbol for Israel. In the words of Otzen: With her name (‘Jewess’) and her perhaps somewhat exaggerated religious practice (Jdt. 8.4-8) she can be understood in various ways: she is set off as the ideal of a good Jew and as an example for the reader; or she is portrayed as the elect of God, her piety making her worthy of carrying the great deed through; or perhaps we should see her as a personification of the Jewish people in an ideal shape.28

Whereas Nebuchadnezzar threatens the western territories with the power of his hand (Jdt. 2.12), the irony of the story is that the mighty empire is brought down ‘by the hand of a woman’ (Jdt. 9.10; 13.15; 16.5).29 In her prayer Judith recalls the deed of her ancestor Simeon who the Lord gave ‘by hand a sword to get vengeance on the foreigners’ that raped his sister Dinah (Jdt. 9.2; cf. Gen. 34.1-31). The story is pertinent in that Judith also risks rape by the hands of foreigners and she prays for a divine hand to use the sword against them. Accordingly, Judith asks God to empower her hand and to crush them in their arrogance by the hand of a woman (Jdt. 9.9-10). Later on we read that the Lord will carry out what he has ‘determined’ (e0bouleu&sato) by the hand of Judith (Jdt. 12.4). This includes rescuing Israel by her very hand (Jdt. 8.33; 13.14), furnishing proof that the ‘Lord God has foiled them by the hand of a woman’ (Jdt. 16.5).30 So on one perspective the deed of Judith is regarded as her own work that God is well pleased with (Jdt. 15.10). Yet elsewhere the predominant picture is an inversion of agency as the very things that Judith did are retrospectively reckoned to be the work of God (Jdt. 16.5-6). In other words, the hand of Judith has become the very hand of God. The dynamic interplay of soteric agencies is further seen in the tension between ‘waiting for his deliverance’ (Jdt. 8.17) and concocting a ‘plan’ for deliverance (Jdt. 8.32-33; 9.9). What is more, whether Judith is ‘chosen’ or proves ‘worthy’ to be a vehicle of Israel’s deliverance is an open question. I suspect it to be more of the latter, but not in a way that is insulated from God’s providential guidance and protection of Judith in his design. The 27. Along this line Jan Willem van Henten (‘Judith as a Female Moses: Judith 7–13 in the Light of Exodus 17; Numbers 20 and Deuteronomy 33:8-11’, in Reflections on Theology and Gender (eds F. van Dijk-Hemmes and A. Brenner; Kampen: Kok Pharos, 1994), pp. 33–48) sees interesting parallels between Judith’s story and Moses’ story including the problem of the lack of water, 40 days in the desert and 40 days of siege, and a common testing motif between God and the people. Erich Zenger (‘Der Juditroman als Traditionsmodell des Jahwesglauben’, pp. 72–4) also detects several structural and literary affinities between Exodus 15 and Judith 16. All this suggests that Judith is the harbinger of a new exodus, or at least that ‘exodus’ motifs have shaped the presentation of materials. 28. Otzen, Tobit and Judith, p. 102. 29. On this motif and its various intertextual echoes (mainly from Exodus), see Patrick W. Skehan, ‘The Hand of Judith’, CBQ 25 (1963), pp. 94–109. 30. Cf. deSilva (‘Judith the Heroine?’ p. 60): ‘Judith, that Delilah for the cause of God, emerges as a model for the pious and rigorous observance of the holy covenant, an example of the power of prayer when joined to faithful action, and a proof for the power of God’.



‘Waiting for His Deliverance’

29

ambiguity of soteric agency can also be observed in the tension between pleading with God to bless Judith’s plan (Jdt. 8.35; 9.9; 10.8), while saying that God sent and guided Judith all along (Jdt. 11.16; 13.5, 18). Taking into account the whole literary scope of Judith it is quite appropriate to say: ‘But if Judith is the heroine of the tale, God is the hero … Ultimately, it was not Judith who saved her people. Rather, it was God, using her as his means’.31 5. Conclusion: what kind of ‘deliverance’? It is very difficult to locate the book of Judith within any single ‘soteriology’ or to place it against a particular ‘pattern of religion’. Depending on which passages one wishes to emphasize, it possible to regard salvation as entirely gracious (e.g., Jdt. 9.11; 13.5; 16.1-17), conditioned by covenantal obedience (e.g., Jdt. 5.17; 8.18-20; 11.10), or entirely inscrutable as to its causes (Jdt. 7.30-31; 8.15-17).32 Overall, in the book of Judith salvation is a mystery of divine purpose that is activated by the Israelites’ devotion to the law and by meticulously avoiding idolatry, but always indebted to the sovereignty of God. The piety and initiative of individual Jews, like Judith, is of particular effectiveness, though what they do is ultimately attributed to God’s guidance. In the case of Achior, his ‘salvation’ is attained in recognizing that God is with Israel and by joining Israel through faith and circumcision. It is almost impossible to determine where the initiative for salvation lies because from a phenomenal point of view it is with the plan of Judith, but theologically it is attributed to the God who used Judith to bring down the Assyrian forces.33 31. Moore, Judith, p. 62. 32. This means that placing Judith in the category of ‘covenantal nomism’, while certainly not incorrect at a very general level, does not reckon with the fact that in Judith covenant is not a primary or efficacious instrument of salvation (contra Garlington, Obedience of Faith, p. 183). The word ‘covenant’ (diaqh&kh) only occurs once in Judith (9.13) where it is susceptible to ruin rather than a salvific force. The role of the Mosaic covenant in Judith is to foster obedience with threats for disobedience, whereas God’s acts for Israel narrated elsewhere are never described in covenantal language (e.g., Jdt. 4.13; 9.11; 10.8; 16.1-17). While reference to the ‘heritage of Israel’ (9.12; 13.5) must include the covenantal arrangement within its scope, it is also much broader than the mosaic economy as well. The view of covenant in Judith is remarkably similar to the trend identified by Mark A. Elliott (The Survivor’s of Israel: A Reconsideration of the Theology of Pre-Christian Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), p. 307) where the dominant view of covenant in Second Temple literature was conditional (on obedience), individualistic (as persons must affirm their membership in it), dynamic (open to change or improvement), and dualistic (created a division in Israel between the wicked and the righteous). 33. Note the words of Davies (‘Didactic Stories’, p. 117): ‘Judith herself is made to portray her achievement as an act of God. But her own bravery and cunning are paramount to the interest of the narrative. Unlike biblical heroes who consult oracles or respond to divine commissions, Judith is in practice self-reliant … The story thus engages directly an issue that Jews from the Seleucid to the Roman periods were obliged to address: is deliverance from foreign rule (or even foreign influence) to be left to God, or is the initiative to be taken by individuals?’

30

This World and the World to Come

In this sense, Judith is the most profound example of the paradox of human responsibility and divine sovereignty in the act of salvation. If I had to describe the story of salvation and the mechanisms for deliverance espoused in Judith, I would render it as Providential Nomism. I define this scheme as asserting that in order to receive God’s blessings, assistance, or deliverance, one must: (i) keep the Law of Moses with special reference to avoiding idolatry; (ii) pray, fast, worship, and humble oneself before the Lord; (iii) do whatever one humanly must in one’s predicament; and (iv) hope that God remembers you and comes to help you. This is not unique to Judith, but appears in other Jewish literature too.34 The pious must entrust themselves to God’s purpose, pleasure, and power and simply hope that it will work for them at the end of the day. On this perspective, God’s own involvement in salvation is very indirect and is imagined in terms of his foreknowledge and plan, rather than expected by way of radical intervention. God is the author of good fortune, and good fortune, all things being equal, is what is supposed to accompany a faithful Israel (though see Jdt. 7.30-31; 8.15; cf. Dan. 3.18). There is obviously an element of grace and mercy in this narration of salvation as God is appealed to on the basis of the mercy, his concern for the lowly, and the heritage of Israel. Yet this mercy and covenantal grace is conditional on national obedience and is aroused by the extraordinary wisdom and piety of particular individuals like Judith.

34. See for instance, ‘And now, let us cry to Heaven, to see whether he will favour us and remember his covenant with our ancestors and crush this army before us today’ (1 Macc. 4.10).

Chapter 2

‘God’s Great Deeds of Deliverance’: Soteriology in 3 Maccabees J. R. C. Cousland 1. Introduction Five years ago, 3 Maccabees could still be described as ‘one of the most neglected texts of Second Temple Judaism’.1 Happily, this situation has now changed markedly, and a number of detailed studies devoted to the book have recently appeared or are about to appear.2 This is not to say, however, that unanimity has come to prevail. The book’s central issues are still very much in contention, and scholars differ widely concerning the work’s date, its purpose, its audience and its historicity. Third Maccabees is regarded as part of the biblical canon by the Greek and Russian Orthodox Churches and for this reason is now usually included in the Apocrypha of modern bibles.3 Although its title suggests that it is related to the other three Maccabean books, its name is a misnomer since it makes no mention of the Maccabees. Not only is the book’s narrative set over 40 years before the time of the Maccabees, much of it is also set in the Alexandria of Ptolemy IV Philopator (222/1–204 bce), king of Egypt. The work does, however, have several features in common with the other Maccabean books. Like them, it was written in Greek and included in the Septuagint, and it also shares a common theme with 2 and 4 Maccabees – the unjust persecution of Jews by hostile overlords. 1. N. Hacham, ‘3 Maccabees: An Anti-Dionysian Polemic’, in Ancient Fiction: The Matrix of Early Christian and Jewish Narrative (eds Jo-Ann Brant, et al.; SBLSymS 32; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2005), pp. 167–83 (168 n.2). 2. See, inter alia: Sara R. Johnson, Historical Fictions and Hellenistic Jewish Identity. Third Maccabees in its Cultural Context (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004), the commentaries by N. Clayton Croy, 3 Maccabees (Septuagint Commentary Series 2; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2006) and Joseph Mélèze Modrzejewski, La Bible d’Alexandrie. 15.3 Troisième Livre des Maccabées (Paris: Cerf, 2008), and the forthcoming commentary by Philip Alexander. 3. Mélèze Modrzejewski, La Bible d’Alexandrie, p. 34. Third Maccabees is also included in Armenian and Syrian bibles.

32

This World and the World to Come

Nothing is known about the author and place of composition, except what can be inferred from the book itself. Although its Greek is extremely mannered and replete with neologisms, it demonstrates an undoubted literary sophistication. It also displays considerable knowledge of the topography of Alexandria, and of the Ptolemaic court’s protocol. These features suggest that the author was a Greek-speaking, Alexandrian Jew with a solid classical education.4 The dates proposed for the composition of 3 Maccabees range from the second century bce to the first century ce.5 The work’s apparent familiarity with the Greek additions to the book of Daniel (3 Macc. 6.6) suggests a date later than 164 bce, just as its seeming ignorance of the Temple’s destruction argues for a date before 70 ce. Some scholars maintain that the work’s notable points of contact with the Letter of Aristeas, Greek Esther, 2 Maccabees and the Physcon episode in Josephus (Apion 2.53-55) suggest a time of composition around 100–75 bce.6 Others, however, argue that details of the story allude to specific historical events. Its account of the hubris of Philopator and his mistreatment of the Jews could allude to the pogroms experienced by the Jews in Alexandria under the rule of Caligula (38–42 ce) and to Caligula’s own hubristic attempt to set up an image of himself in the Jerusalem Temple (39/40 ce).7 Given that all the above options for 3 Maccabees seem plausible, it is perhaps preferable to leave the question of dating open. Just as vexed is the question of the historicity of the work. It is apparent that at least some features of the book are historically reliable. The account of the Battle of Raphia (3 Macc. 1.1-6), for instance, has notable overlaps with Polybius’ History (Cf. Polybius, History 5.79-87) and the two may even share a common source, the lost history of Ptolemy Megalopolitanus (cf. Athenaeus, Deipn. 246c). On the other hand, the work contains features that are historically implausible, and which seem to have more affinities with Hellenistic romance than with historiography.8 The most satisfactory approach to these contradictory tendencies is to suppose that 3 Maccabees belongs to the genre of ‘historical fiction’. That is to say, it uses ostensibly historical details to construct a work that is more concerned with developing a theological or ideological point of view than with recounting history per se.9 Finally, the purpose of 3 Maccabees continues to engender discussion. It is, perhaps, better to say ‘purposes’ since many scholars envision more 4. Cf. Mélèze Modrzejewski, Troisième Livre, pp. 113–18. 5. Johnson, Historical Fictions, pp. 129–41; Mélèze Modrzejewski, Troisième Livre, pp. 118–23; Luc Renaut, ‘Ptolémée Philopator et le stigmate de Dionysos’, Métis NS 4 (2006), pp. 211–38 (217–25). 6. Alexander, ‘3 Maccabees’, p. 866; Johnson, Historical Fictions, pp. 129–43. 7. John J. Collins, Between Athens and Jerusalem: Jewish Identity in Hellenistic Judaism (Grand Rapids/Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2nd edn, 2000), pp. 124–31; Renaut, ‘Ptolémée Philopator’, p. 225. 8. Moses Hadas, The Third and Fourth Books of Maccabees (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1953), pp. 13–15. 9. Cf. Croy, 3 Maccabees, p. xv.



‘God’s Great Deeds of Deliverance’

33

than one. Croy’s recent commentary, for instance, lists four: 1) hortatory – 3 Maccabees was written to encourage the Jewish people to remain faithful to God and his law, and to reject the temptations of syncretism and apostasy; 2) apologetic – the work demonstrates that the Jewish people are entirely loyal to their gentile rulers except when it involves compromising their loyalty to God; 3) polemical – it condemns Gentile religion, as well as those Jews who apostatize for the sake of social advancement; 4) etiological – 3 Maccabees describes the establishment of a commemorative Jewish religious festival that shows similarities with Purim in Esther, and Hanukkah in 1 Maccabees.10 Other purposes have been proposed in addition to these, but those listed here are the most representative. 2. Précis The narrative of 3 Maccabees is generally divided into two episodes: 1.1–2.24 and 2.25–7.23. The first opens in medias res with an account of the decisive Battle of Raphia in the Fourth Syrian War (217 bce).11 When the Egyptian ruler Ptolemy IV Philopator ultimately triumphed over the Seleucid Antiochus III, he visited the temples in neighbouring cities – including Jerusalem – to offer up gifts for his victory. In the temple in Jerusalem, despite the protests of the priests and the people, he resolved to enter the Holy of Holies. Simon, the high priest, offers up a prayer for deliverance, which God answers by striking down Philopator in the Temple. The king is temporarily paralyzed, and his retainers take him back to Egypt. The second episode develops the theme of Philopator’s animosity toward the Jewish people in Egypt. The debacle in Jerusalem causes the king to take offence at the Jews living in Alexandria and Egypt. Although he had given them the opportunity to participate in his religious rites and gain Alexandrian citizenship, all but a few Jews rejected his offer. He decrees, therefore, that because of their malice the Jews were to be arrested, registered, and corporately assembled in Alexandria’s hippodrome where they were to be trampled to death by drunken elephants. This directive fails at first because Philopator’s officials miraculously run out of pens and paper after 40 days of registration. When the Jews and elephants are finally assembled in the hippodrome, Philopator’s harsh directive is repeatedly thwarted. He first succumbs to divinely-induced sleep, and then, on the following day, to divinely-induced oblivion and forgetfulness. In both instances the prayers of the faithful to God result in these stays of execution. Finally, however, on the third day, the Jews are all assembled for the slaughter. One final time the Jewish people call upon the Lord, and the venerable priest Eleazar intervenes 10. Croy, 3 Maccabees, pp. xviii–xx. 11. Compare Polybius, History 5.79-86, and Justin, Epitome 30.1.6, and cf. Günther Hölbl, Geschichte des Ptolemäer-Reiches (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, rev. edn, 2004), pp. 111–19.

34

This World and the World to Come

with a lengthy prayer, to which God responds decisively: ‘Then the most glorious, almighty, and true God revealed his holy face and opened the heavenly gates, from which two glorious angels of fearful aspect descended’ (3 Macc. 6.18). The angels overwhelm Philopator and terrify the elephants in the hippodrome, which then proceed to trample the Egyptian army. At this moment, the king suddenly relents of all that he has done, and reinstates the Jewish people, restoring them to their former status. He establishes banquets in their honour, and grants them the authority to put to death those Jews who had earlier apostatized in order to take up his offer of citizenship. To commemorate God’s remarkable acts of salvation the Jewish people inaugurate two annual festivals. 3. Salvation in 3 Maccabees Because of the relatively understudied nature of 3 Maccabees, its soteriology has yet to be adequately assessed. This want of detailed analysis makes it difficult to determine just how important salvation is to 3 Maccabees. The approach taken here, therefore, deliberately sets out to address the issue. Because it has not been undertaken before, part of this chapter will assess the importance of salvation to the book as a whole, and will demonstrate the centrality of salvation to 3 Maccabees. Once this has been established, it will move on to consider what the book says about the outworking of salvation: who obtains it, why, how, and when, and then close with a discussion of the book’s likely recipients. First, however, it will begin by defining the meaning of salvation in 3 Maccabees. As this volume itself makes evident, biblical salvation possesses various emphases and can be defined in various ways.12 The definition that probably best illuminates the role of salvation in 3 Maccabees is that proposed by Claus Westermann, who observes that biblical salvation has dual components. They are God’s ‘activity in deliverance and his activity in blessing. The two together constitute God’s saving activity’.13 Both of these components are present in 3 Maccabees. The first and more prominent of the two is the idea of divine deliverance. The Jewish people experience crises that they are helpless to address. They pray for God to intervene on their behalf, and he delivers them. This form of salvation dominates most of the book. Both the Jerusalem episode and much of the Egypt episode focus on how God miraculously delivers the Jewish people. The second constituent of salvation emphasizes God’s acts of blessing. Once they have been rescued, the Jewish people can once again experience the blessings of a happy and fortunate life. To give these blessings particular 12. As the canon of the Hebrew Bible may not have been fixed at the time that 3 Maccabees was written, the terms ‘biblical’, ‘scriptural’ and ‘Hebrew Bible’ used here are employed for the sake of convenience. 13. Claus Westermann, Prophetic Oracles of Salvation in the Old Testament (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1991), p. 16.



‘God’s Great Deeds of Deliverance’

35

prominence the author of 3 Maccabees employs a technique of reversal that contrasts the wretched situation of the Jews before their deliverance with its happy aftermath. Here, God’s acts of blessing are primarily a reversal or ‘restoration’ of the Jews to their previous prosperous state.14 The close of the book (6.22–7.23), therefore, is not concerned so much with deliverance as with the reversal of the horrific circumstances of the Jewish people and their restoration to a state of blessedness. 4. The importance of salvation in 3 Maccabees That the idea of salvation suffuses 3 Maccabees in its entirety can be demonstrated by an examination of some of the book’s major characteristics. The work’s genre, its theme, its structure, and its method of characterization all reveal just how fundamental salvation is to a proper appreciation of the book. 4.1. Genre and theme As was noted above, the genre of 3 Maccabees is probably best described as historical fiction. More specifically, it is historical fiction incorporating a deliverance narrative or, better yet, a hybrid deliverance narrative. The Jerusalem and Alexandria episodes each recount major acts of divine intervention, but the two have been joined together in such a way that there is no dénouement to the Jerusalem narrative. The latter immediately leads into the Alexandria episode and furnishes the rationale for Ptolemy IV’s persecution of the Egyptian Jews. The fusing of these two (probably) separate deliverance accounts creates one larger, thematically unified, deliverance narrative. Salvation is also a central theme in 3 Maccabees. Though deliverance and restoration both figure in the book, the former is particularly prominent. It is deliverance, for example, that is highlighted at the close of the book. As is well known, the beginnings and endings of many ancient literary works were used either to provide a title for the work or to illustrate the main topic of discussion. In its present form, the beginning of 3 Maccabees offers no indication of the book’s subject matter. Either the original beginning of the work is missing or there never was one, and the author intentionally begins in medias res. The book’s ending, however, provides a vivid description of its theme: ‘the supreme God perfectly performed great deeds for their [the Jewish people’s] deliverance (swthri/a). Blessed be the Deliverer (r9u/sthj) of Israel through all times! Amen’ (3 Macc. 7.22-23, NRSV). As deliverance is referred to twice in the final 11 words of the book (both in Greek and 14. Obviously, this ‘restoration’ differs considerably from the term as it usually applied to Israel.

36

This World and the World to Come

English), it is evident that the author regarded divine deliverance as a major theme of the work. The sheer number of times that the idea of deliverance is referred to throughout the book also attests to the theme’s centrality. Its prominence is not immediately obvious in Greek because the author relies on a variety of words to give it expression. Nevertheless, nearly 30 words refer to deliverance and of these, God-sent deliverance is mentioned no fewer than 24 times – something remarkable for such a brief document. The principal terms used are sw&|zw, r9u/omai, bohqe/w and their cognate forms, which include the divine epithets swth/r (‘Saviour’; 3 Macc. 6.29, 7.16) and the just-mentioned r9u/sthj at 7.23.15 The greatest concentration of these words is found in chapters 6 and 7, the climactic final chapters of the book, where divine deliverance is referred to some 18 times. It is, therefore, not simply the book’s final two verses that would convince the reader of the importance of deliverance – the idea is repeatedly stressed throughout the work, and increasingly referred to as the work proceeds. The theme of blessings is also a prominent theme, if not so prominent as that of deliverance. The amount of space devoted to the restitutions and rewards meted out to the Egyptian Jews after their deliverance – an entire chapter and a half (3 Macc. 6.22–7.23) – indicates that divine blessing was also a notable feature of the author’s understanding of salvation. This theme is chiefly developed by the numerous occasions where actions or situations occurring earlier within the narrative are reversed and restore the Jews to prosperity.16 These reversals are so prominent and so frequent that they constitute a unified thread that runs through the entirety of 6.22–7.23. Unlike deliverance, however, the theme of blessings is largely confined to these verses, and is not so characteristic of the book as a whole. 4.2 Structure 4.2.1. Deliverance (3 Macc. 1.1–6.21) The exceptional number of deliverance narratives within 3 Maccabees also testifies to the fundamental importance of deliverance within the book. A superficial reading might suggest that there are two or maybe three instances where God is described as rescuing his people. In actual fact, as the following chart makes clear, there are at least 11:17 15. Sw|&zw and cognate forms: 6.13, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 36; 7.16 (bis), 18, 22. Ru/ ( omai and cognate forms: 2.12, 32; 5.8, 35; 6.6, 10, 11, 39; 7.23. Bohqe/w and cognate forms: 2.12; 3.8; 4.21; 5.25. Du/namai and cognate forms: 2.13, 22; 4.16; 6.13 (bis), 39. 'Anti/lhmyij: 2.33; 5.50. The bold items refer to salvation that originates from God. 16. Cf. J. R. C. Cousland, ‘Reversal, Recidivism and Reward in 3 Maccabees: Structure and Purpose’, JSJ 34 (2003), pp. 39–51 (44–5). 17. This total excludes the exempla in Simon’s prayer featuring the giants and the men of Sodom (3 Macc. 2.4–5), which are more concerned with God’s responses to hubris.



‘God’s Great Deeds of Deliverance’ Exempla from the Prayers: 1. The Pharaoh (Exod. 7.14–15.21) Divine intervention: Punished the Pharaoh, saved Israel 2. The Pharaoh (Exod. 14.5–15.21) Divine intervention: Destroyed Pharaoh’s chariots and army 3. Sennacherib (2 Kgs 18.26-35) Divine intervention: ‘Broke Sennacherib into pieces’ 4. Youths in the Furnace (Dan. 3.8-30) Divine intervention: Dampened the flames 5. Daniel (Dan. 6.1-28) Divine intervention: Brought Daniel out of the lion’s den 6. Jonah (Jon. 1.1–2.10) Divine intervention: Rescued Jonah from the sea-monster

37 2.7 6.4 6.5 6.6 6.7 6.8

Miracles: 7. Philopator’s attempted violation of the Temple a. Threat: Illicit entry into the Temple 1.11-29 b. Prayers: Priests, populace, retainers, Simon 1.16, 21, 24, 27; 2.1-20 Prayer: let your mercies overtake us 2.20 c. Divine intervention: Striking down of the King 2.21-24 8. Insufficiency of Scribal Materials a. Threat: Registration of Jewish victims 4.12-16 b. Divine intervention: A dearth of scribal materials 4.17-21 9. Hippodrome and Divinely-induced Sleep a. Threat: The Jews are to be trampled to death 5.1-7a,10 b. Prayers: The Jewish victims 5.7b-9 Prayer: rescue (r9u/sasqai) us 5.8 c. Divine intervention: Divinely-induced sleep 5.11-12 10. Hippodrome and Divinely-induced Memory Loss a. Threat: The Jews are to be trampled to death 5.18-24 b. Prayers: The Jewish victims 5.25 Prayer: help (bohqh=sai) us 5.25 c. Divine intervention: Divinely-induced oblivion 5.26-35 11. Hippodrome and Angelophany a. Threat: The Jews are to be trampled to death 5.37-49 b. Prayers: The Jewish victims and Eleazar 5.50-51; 6.1-16 Prayer: rescue (r9usa/menoj) us 6.10 c. Divine intervention: Appearance of Two Angels 6.18-22 The first six of the above narratives are exempla found in the book’s two main prayers, and rehearse previous occasions when God rescued his people. Simon’s prayer in chapter 2 refers to the Pharaoh (1). Eleazar’s prayer in chapter 6 mentions the Pharaoh again (2), Sennacherib (3), the youths in the fiery furnace (4), Daniel (5), and Jonah (6).

38

This World and the World to Come

These exempla all constitute deliverance narratives in miniature. The events in each exemplum are not simply referred to, but actually recounted again. In the case of Sennacherib, for instance, Eleazar’s prayer relates that ‘Sennacherib exulting in his countless forces, oppressive king of the Assyrians, who had already gained control of the whole world by the spear and was lifted up against your holy city, speaking grievous words with boasting and insolence, you, O Lord, broke in pieces, showing your power to many nations’ (3 Macc. 6.5). This verse offers a brief recap of 2 Kgs 18.2635 (//2 Chron. 32.9-22//Isa. 37.11-20), giving in much-abbreviated form the essential events – including God’s actions – within the narrative. The same holds true for the other five exempla. Each one, therefore, furnishes a previous instance of God’s deliverance of his people. What is more, as can be seen in the chart, each narrative specifies God’s act of deliverance, even where, as in the Sennacherib exemplum, God’s specific actions are left rather vague. The remaining five narratives consist of the miracles occurring in 3 Maccabees.18 All are acts of deliverance. These include not only the climactic acts of divine intervention at the close of the Jerusalem and Alexandrian narratives (7; 11), but also three further instances of divine deliverance, all of which also occur in the Alexandrian narrative. The first is the scribes’ failed attempt at registering the Jews when the supply of reeds and papyrus runs out (8). The other two are God’s visitations first of slumber (9) and then of oblivion (10) on Philopator. Of these five miracles, the ‘scribal’ miracle is unique in not being a response to prayer (8). All of the others demonstrate a set, repeated, pattern within the narrative: the Jews are confronted with a serious threat, they pray to God, specifically asking to be rescued, and God powerfully intervenes to save them. Significantly, this tripartite pattern occurs even in the abbreviated miracle stories where the prayers of the Jews are not explicitly cited (9; 10). The readers are still told the content of the prayers, namely: help us, deliver us (r9u/sasqai, bohqh=sai). The overall effect of this pattern is to highlight deliverance repeatedly: in one way or another, the features of the deliverance motif – the need for it, the prayers for it, the substance of the prayers, and the deliverance itself – are constantly kept before the reader’s eyes so that one is repeatedly reminded of God’s interventions on behalf of his people. These interventions, both past and present, testify to God’s ability to save, and adumbrate how he is likely to act at the close of the book.19 In this way, God’s acts of deliverance are continually emphasized up until 6.22. In every one of these chapters (chapter 3 excepted) there is at least one deliverance narrative.

18. Third Maccabees’ miracles have been classified in various ways. Here, if the author of 3 Maccabees regards an action or series of events as originating with God or his angels, it is classified as a miracle. 19. God’s saving acts in the exempla have numerous points of contact with the Jews’ own situations in 3 Maccabees.



‘God’s Great Deeds of Deliverance’

39

4.2.2. Restoration (3 Macc. 6.22–7.23) Rather than list each of the reversals with its concomitant blessing, the approach taken here will be to look at the restoration of the Egyptian Jews to their former happy estate in three main respects. The first is physical wellbeing. Although they start out in a relatively fortunate position, they are then enslaved and condemned to be tortured and executed in a single day (3 Macc. 4.14). Their situation changes completely with their deliverance from death and the liberation from their bonds (3 Macc. 6.29). Those who had been brought to Alexandria chained and stowed away in the holds of ships are allowed to return home, ‘unharmed, free, and overjoyed’, armed with the king’s ‘magnanimous’ authorization (3 Macc. 4.9-10; 6.41; 7.8, 20). Along with their bodily liberty, the Jewish people also regain the freedom to reverence God, a freedom that was compromised by Philopator’s interdiction against entering their ‘sanctuaries’ (3 Macc. 2.28). God’s decisive actions allow for the reinstatement (and expansion? Cf. 3 Macc. 7.20) of synagogue worship in Egypt. The religious freedom granted to the Jews extends even to a ‘general licence’ to execute the 300 apostates for transgressing the laws of God (3 Macc. 7.12). The final aspect of their well-being relates to their political situation and the good repute they come to enjoy at the end of the work. Over the course of the narrative their political status and reputation are gravely compromised. Philopator deliberately inflicts public ignomy upon the Jewish community (3 Macc. 2.27), first, by reducing them to their former status of slaves (3 Macc. 2.28-29), and then by branding them with the ivy leaf of Dionysus, a brand mark that may designate their servile status.20 They are subsequently reviled by the king as ‘impious people … traitors and barbarous enemies’ who deserve the kind of shameful death inflicted on enemies (3 Macc. 3.24-26). Yet, by the end of the work, the Jews’ reputation could hardly be better: in an abrupt reversal, Philopator acclaims and praises them for their faithfulness and for ‘the friendly and firm goodwill which they had toward us and our ancestors’. The once-reviled traitors are now repeatedly praised for their exemplary loyalty to the crown (3 Macc. 7.7; cf. 6.25, 26, 28; cf. 5.31). In all the above respects, therefore, the position of the Egyptian Jews is restored to its former status, and is at points actually enhanced as a result of their ongoing obedience and faithfulness to God and his laws. The sorts of blessings often associated with the restoration of Israel have clearly been adapted to suit the situation of the Egyptian Jews, since the author entertains no thought of restoration to the chosen land.21 The happy and overjoyed Jews do not return to Israel, but to their ‘own houses’ in Egypt (3 Macc. 7.18, 20). What he describes is, in effect, a diasporan restoration. 20. Renaut, ‘Ptolémée Philopator’, pp. 211–38. 21. The word paroiki/a (3 Macc. 6.36; 7.13) is best translated as ‘community’, as Hadas does (Third Book, pp. 79, 85).

40

This World and the World to Come

4.3. Characterization A number of the characters in 3 Maccabees are certainly historical figures and reflect historical realia. Nevertheless, even where the main characters are basically historical, it is evident that the author has not scrupled to shape the traits that serve to block out their character. These signature traits figure prominently in the service of the salvation narrative that he has developed. In order to make the crises as vivid as possible, he portrays Philopator and the Jews in terms of extreme and abrupt contrasts. Philopator is constructed as a savage and arrogant tyrant, and the Jews as his impotent but loyal subjects. In turn, God is shown to be all-powerful and fully able to deliver his people and transform the tyrant into a magnanimous benefactor. This triangular relationship between needy Israel, an arrogant tyrant, and God is a pattern very familiar in the scriptures, and the exempla in the prayers indicate that the author was certainly very familiar with them. The Pharaoh and Sennacherib episodes, in particular, evoke the image of a helpless Israel, confronted by an arrogant potentate, and ultimately delivered by God’s might. The author is able to draw on these time-honoured motifs to provide the framework with which he constructs his characters. This is not to deny that the author has added his own contemporary touches. His characterization of God, for instance, is certainly indebted to Greek conceptions of the divine,22 while his portrayal of Philopator seems to owe much to the Hellenistic trope of the angry tyrant.23 The Jewish people, moreover, now include diaspora Jews, as well as those living in Palestine. Nevertheless, beneath their contemporary trappings these types of characters are very familiar, and the dynamics of the salvation drama that they play out are even more so. The narrator needs only to highlight the signature traits of the characters to set the stage for the outworking of salvation within the book. 4.3.1 The Jewish people Treating the Jewish people in 3 Maccabees as a single basic character is slightly problematic given that the narrative involves two groups of Jews – those inhabiting Judea and those of the Egyptian diaspora. The author, 22. Thomas Knöpler, ‘Die Gottesvorstellung des 3. Makkabäerbuches’, in Jüdische Schriften in ihrem antik-jüdischen und urchristlichen Kontext (eds Hermann Lichtenberger and Gerbern S. Oegema; Studien zu den Jüdischen Schriften aus hellenistisch-römischer Zeit, 1; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 2002), pp. 209–19. 23. On the trope of the savage tyrant, see Tessa Rajak, ‘The Angry Tyrant’ (pp. 110–27) and Philip and Loveday Alexander, ‘The Image of the Oriental Monarch in the Third Book of Maccabees’ in Jewish Perspectives on Hellenistic Rulers (eds Tessa Rajak, Sarah Pearce, James Aitken, and Jennifer Dines; Berkeley/Los Angeles/London: University of California Press, 2007), pp. 92–109.



‘God’s Great Deeds of Deliverance’

41

however, refers to both groups indiscriminately as ‘the Jews’ (oi9 Ioudai=oi) and regards them both as God’s people (lao/j).24 A similar perspective also emerges from the prayers of Simon (in Jerusalem) and Eleazar (in Alexandria), which repeatedly refer to ‘Israel’ present and past, but do not once mention ‘the Jews’ (3 Macc. 2.6, 10, 16; 6.4, 9; cf. 7.16). As was just noted, one of the defining traits of the Jewish people in 3 Maccabees is their overwhelming helplessness in the face of Philopator’s repeated threats. The high priest Simon explicitly describes the people as ‘overtaken by helplessness’ (3 Macc. 2.13), and the work furnishes numerous other examples of their impotence (3 Macc. 2.2, 33; 3.10; 4.2-4; 5.5-8, 25, 48-51; 6.31). Its strong and continued emphasis on the loyalty of the Jews to Philopator serves to highlight their helplessness even more – even when they could resist him they do not (3 Macc. 3.3, 6-7; 6.25-26; 7.7; cf. 1.22-23). The Jews’ role as impotent victims is also to be found in several of the ‘pathetic’ tableaux he introduces into his narrative. Notable among them is the description of the Jews in the hippodrome just before they are to be massacred: … they thought that this was their last moment of life, the end of their most miserable suspense, and giving way to lamentation and groans they kissed each other, embracing relatives and falling into one another’s arms – parents and children, mothers and daughters, and others with babies at their breasts who were drawing their last milk. Not only this, but when they considered the help that they had received before from heaven, they prostrated themselves with one accord on the ground, removing the babies from their breasts, and cried out in a very loud voice, imploring the Ruler over every power to manifest himself and be merciful to them, as they stood now at the gates of death. (3 Macc. 5.49-51)

In this episode the author has not simply narrated the threats facing the Jewish people, but has made them as pathetic and touching as possible in order to emphasize the Jews’ overwhelming need for deliverance.

4.3.2. Ptolemy IV Philopator By way of contrast, the signature traits of Ptolemy Philopator in 3 Maccabees are his extraordinary arrogance (3 Macc. 1.25, 26, 27; 2.2, 3; 6.16, 20; cf. 5.13; 6.9, 12) and savagery (3 Macc. 3.1; 4.13; 5.1, 20, 30, 42, 47). His arrogance finds its chief expression in the book’s first two chapters where Philopator displays no hesitancy about desecrating the Jerusalem temple. He is not to be deterred from this ‘unlawful and haughty deed’ since he regards himself as being above the requirements of God’s law (3 Macc. 1.12, 15, 2527). He is shown as being totally unconcerned about opposing the God of 24. Oi9 Ioudai=oi usually refers to those from Alexandria and Egypt (3 Macc. 2.28; 3.3, 27; 4.2, 17, 21; 5.2, 3, 6, 13, 18, 20, 35, 38, 42, 48; 6.17, 18, 30, 35; 7.6, 10), but can also refer to the Jews from Jerusalem (3 Macc. 1.8).

42

This World and the World to Come

Israel – ‘not considering the might of the supreme God, but assuming that he would persevere constantly in his same purpose’ (3 Macc. 3.11). Philopator’s savagery also knows no bounds. In his rage against the Jews he repeatedly displays a fury that verges on madness (3 Macc. 5.42). He is twice compared to the Greek tyrant Phalaris, who roasted his victims alive in a hollow brass bull and delighted in their anguished bellows (3 Macc. 5.20, 42; cf. Polybius, History 12.25). Similarly, Philopator turns the slaughter of the Jews in the hippodrome into a grotesque entertainment and cannot resist immersing himself in the actual process so that he can gloat over their slaughter – ‘when he had filled his impious mind with a deep rage, [he] rushed out in full force along with the animals, wishing to witness, with invulnerable heart and with his own eyes, the grievous and pitiful destruction of the aforementioned people’ (3 Macc. 5.47). Philopator’s arrogance and savagery are so extreme, in fact, that it would be difficult to make them more emphatic. Their very extremity sets the stage for God’s emphatic deliverance of his people. 4.3.3. God In 3 Maccabees God is portrayed as a deity whose power is boundless. As Eleazar acknowledges in his prayer, God is possessed of ‘invincible might’ and ‘power to save the nation of Jacob’ (3 Macc. 6.13). The book’s rich array of descriptive epithets affirm that he is the supreme God (3 Macc. 3.11; 4.16; 7.22), the ‘almighty’ (3 Macc. 2.2; 5.7; 6.2; 6.18), the king (3 Macc. 2.2; 5.35; 6.2) who holds ‘all might and power’ (3 Macc. 6.12; cf. 3.11; 5.7; 6.2). He is not merely a just ruler (3 Macc. 2.3), he is the ‘only ruler’ (3 Macc. 2.2; cf. 7.16) – the god who created the world, and who governs and sustains it (3 Macc. 2.21; 6.2; cf. 2.3, 21).25 While all of these attributions celebrate God’s might, equally notable in the book is his willingness to use this might on behalf of the Jewish people: he is the faithful, true and merciful Father who cares for his people as a father cares for his children (3 Macc. 2.11; 5.7; 6.9, 18; 7.6). His undoubted power and willingness to save his people are emphasized by the sharp contrast the book makes between him and Philopator’s gods. The latter cannot respond to their devotees nor rescue them: they are ‘speechless things that are not able even to communicate or to come to one’s help’ (3 Macc. 4.16). Because Philopator’s special devotion to Dionysus was well known (cf. 3 Macc. 2.29), it is probable that the author includes images of Dionysus among these impotent idols, and tacitly derides the Dionysiac cult.26

25. Cf. Knöpler, ‘Die Gottesvorstellung’, pp. 209–19, and Mélèze Modrzejewski, Troisième Livre, pp. 87–90. 26. J. R. C. Cousland, ‘Dionysus Theomachos?: Echoes of the Bacchae in 3 Maccabees’, Bib 82 (2002), pp. 539–48; Hacham, ‘Anti-Dionysian Polemic’, pp. 167–83.



‘God’s Great Deeds of Deliverance’

43

Taken as a whole, the above characterizations of the Jewish people, Philopator and God all contribute to the book’s depiction of salvation. The author has constructed his characters in such a way that they help to drive the narrative and emphasize its overall impact. In conclusion, the foregoing discussion about the importance of salvation in 3 Maccabees demonstrates that salvation is integral to the book of 3 Maccabees as a whole. A consideration of the genre and theme, the structure, and the portrayal of the characters reveals that salvation, either in the form of deliverance or blessing, is a fundamental feature of the work. 5. The parameters of salvation If salvation is a central component of 3 Maccabees, what are the implications? Who is granted salvation and why? When and how do they attain it? What, in short, is the anatomy of salvation in 3 Maccabees? 5.1. Who In 3 Maccabees, salvation is the prerogative of Israel. Third Maccabees gives no indication that salvation extends beyond the people of Israel. Though the book is prepared to acknowledge the sympathetic attitudes of non-Jewish neighbours, friends and business associates, and particularly the ‘Greeks’ (3 Macc. 3.8-10), the ‘Gentiles’ (e1qnh 3 Macc. 4.1; 5.6, 13; 6.9, 13, 15) as a whole are represented as hostile and, at times, synonymous with enemies (3 Macc. 2.13; 4.4; 6.10, 15, 19).27 Though the Gentiles are thought to worship gods that are nothing more than delusory idols (3 Macc. 4.16), there is still no suggestion that they should abandon their gods and follow the true God of the Jews. Even when Philopator’s mindset undergoes a divine transformation, it does not undergo a conversion. His acknowledgement that God is ‘the almighty and living God of heaven’, and ‘the Ruler over every power, and the Most High God’ (3 Macc. 6.27; 7.9), is little more than recognition that, in his view, God’s power surpasses that of his own deities. Third Maccabees’ attitude toward the Gentiles holds out no hope that they too will partake of God’s salvation. 5.2. Why Why, then, are the Jews able to experience God’s salvation? For the simple reason that God enjoys a special historical relationship with Israel that extends back to the patriarchs Abraham, Israel and Jacob, and to his choice of Jerusalem as the place for his holy temple (3 Macc. 2.9, 16). He chose 27.

The two are directly associated at 3 Macc. 6.8-9, 15.

44

This World and the World to Come

the Jews as his people, and he loves and cares for them as a father does his children (3 Macc. 2.10, 16; 6.3, 13; 7.6). They are his ‘beloved people’. He has rescued them from great and numerous evils in the past, and is ready to answer their prayers for deliverance again (3 Macc. 2.12; 6.11). 5.3. When Salvation in 3 Maccabees consists of God’s acts of blessing and deliverance within the context of human history. God’s deliverance is intended to rescue the Jewish people from earthly crises, while his blessing is designed to give them as happy and fortunate an earthly life as is possible. Both of these aspects of salvation, therefore, have an entirely this-worldly dimension; there is no conception of a ‘blessed’ afterlife. The prosperity that the Jewish people experience at the end of the book is an earthly prosperity, not a heavenly one. If Israel is to partake of God’s salvation, whether as deliverance or restoration, it has to be in the here and now, as there is no life to come. 5.4. How In 3 Maccabees God’s salvation is chiefly accessible to the Jewish people by prayer. Here the prayers of Simon and Eleazar are paradigmatic. They praise God for what he has done in the past and seek his help in the present once more. Nevertheless, they recognize that access to God’s salvation is not a privilege that is unconditionally available. Israel has to uphold its part of the covenant. Besides the proper worship of God, they are to obey the law and adhere strictly to the dietary regulations (3 Macc. 3.4). It is inevitable that the Jewish people will fall short, sin, and suffer for their disobedience, whereupon it is incumbent upon them to acknowledge their sin and repent, so that he will show them compassion and restore their fortunes. In keeping with this understanding, both prayers within 3 Maccabees acknowledge the peoples’ sinfulness and their need for rescue. Once Israel repents of its sin, the possibility of God’s salvation – if not the guarantee – is open to them once again. This possibility, however, remains permanently closed to Jews who wilfully transgress against God and his law and give up their faith in order to obtain preferment or political advantage (3 Macc. 2.31; 7.11). The dominant impression arising from this sketch of salvation in 3 Maccabees is just how extremely traditional it is. All of the above ideas are deeply rooted in scripture, especially the Torah. The focus on this-worldly deliverance and blessing, the emphasis on adherence to the law, the disinterest in the fate of the Gentiles – all are very familiar.



‘God’s Great Deeds of Deliverance’

45

6. Salvation and 3 Maccabees’ audience Third Maccabees’ understanding of salvation furnishes several insights into the book’s readership – whether it was intended for a gentile audience, the Jews of Palestine, or those of Egypt. Of these three alternatives, the Gentiles do not seem to be a likely audience for several reasons. The book’s emphases on God’s deliverance and blessings are seen as largely irrelevant to the Gentiles. As was just noted, the author shows no appreciable interest in proselytism. This being so, God’s acts of deliverance would have little significance for the Gentiles except, possibly, as a cautionary warning (3 Macc. 7.9). Even here, however, the book’s tone speaks against it, since it is far closer to invective than warning. Its portrayal of the king as mad (3 Macc. 5.42) and as sadistic as Phalaris (3 Macc. 5.20, 42) is extremely harsh, and even the picture of the regenerate Philopator, who does acknowledge God, is derisory. It seems unlikely, therefore, that the Jews would deliberately pillory Philopator (and thereby their gentile overlords in general) in a work intended as a serious warning to a pagan readership. Nor are God’s blessings pertinent to the Gentiles, since the book’s Deuteronomic pattern of blessings and curses evidently does not apply to them. Unlike the book of Esther (Est. 7.6-10; 9.5-16), for instance, there is no sense that any of the culpable Gentiles gets their come-uppance. Philopator experiences a divine deliverance (swthri/a 3 Macc. 6.33) of his own; the ‘friends of the king’ are only reprimanded, and the pagan profiteers merely required to return their spoils. In fact, the only Gentiles who do suffer are Philopator’s innocent troops, who die for their own loyalty to the king. The underlying rationale for this anomaly seems to be that, since God’s law has no relevance for the Gentiles, the Deuteronomic schema does not apply to them either.28 Yet, if this message of salvation is directed at Jews, which Jews? It is conceivable that 3 Maccabees is a diasporan apologetic to the Jews of Palestine, since roughly one-quarter of the work is devoted to the events that transpire there. Though possible, this proposal is far from compelling, largely because of the attenuated character of the Jerusalem episode.29 It provides no conclusion, no dénouement, and no sense of closure. Instead, the episode seems to function largely as a preamble to explain Philopator’s hostility to the Jews of Egypt. This is not to downplay the author’s belief in the importance of Jerusalem or God’s deliverance of its inhabitants, but the overall focus of the book seems to lie in Egypt. Only the Egyptian Jews are described as experiencing both aspects of salvation – deliverance and blessing. The narrative moves so quickly from Jerusalem to Egypt that there is no mention whatever of any blessings for the Jerusalem Jews – not even the restoration of the Temple to its former state. These features suggest that the Egyptian Jews are the intended recipients.30 28. Contrast the Letter of Aristeas’ attempt to justify God’s law to the Gentile world. 29. Cf. Cousland, ‘Recidivism’, pp. 40–1. 30. By ‘Egyptian Jews’ I mean primarily the wealthy and educated Jewish elite.

46

This World and the World to Come

Why, then, would the book’s strong emphasis on salvation have been of such importance for the Egyptian diaspora? One reason is identity formation. In light of passages like Deut. 17.16, which stipulates that the Jews should not go back to Egypt, the Egyptian diaspora needs to justify its presence there by claiming its own place within the context of Jewish salvation history. To do this, 3 Maccabees affirms that God continues to care for his people as he always has, whether they are in Jerusalem or Egypt. His saving activity is just as potent in Alexandria as it is in Jerusalem, and both can claim to be the legitimate heirs of his promises. This emphasis helps to explain why the exempla found in the prayers of Simon and Eleazar deliberately align the situation of the Jews under Ptolemy IV with the Israel of old. The author wants to establish that there is no essential difference between one group of Jewish people and another, and that despite their residence in Egypt, the Egyptian Jews are still heirs of Israel’s legacy. God’s acts provide them with divine legitimation and justify their existence outside the promised land.31 In fact, God’s acts of deliverance and blessing in 3 Maccabees may well be intended to function as a kind of a foundation story that serves as the Egyptian Jews’ counterpart to the exodus story. Just as the exodus was absolutely foundational for all Israel, and integral to their identity and selfunderstanding, it is possible that 3 Maccabees is presenting a kind of ‘reverse exodus’ of its own that will also be foundational for the Egyptian Jews. Although there are manifold differences between the events of the exodus and 3 Maccabees, there are, nevertheless, a number of faint but suggestive parallels between the two narratives. The latter celebrates how God delivered Israel from the pharaoh, brought them to the promised land, and then blessed them. It chronicles a series of miracles in Egypt, culminating in the destruction of Pharaoh and his army, and the Jews’ eventual arrival in the promised land. In 3 Maccabees, the context of the story moves from the promised land to Egypt, where a series of miracles also takes place, culminating in the destruction of part of Philopator’s army and the restoration of the Jews. The entire population of Egyptian Jews is saved, just as all of Israel was saved in the exodus. While these parallels are far from exact, the author may have intended 3 Maccabees to function as a foundational story for the Jews of Egypt since it chronicles God’s first powerful intervention among the Egyptian diaspora, and marks the beginning of their own branch of salvation history. Nevertheless, whether they are conceived as an exodus or not, God’s powerful acts of salvation in 3 Maccabees legitimate the Jewish presence in Egypt, and allow them to forge their own sense of identity.32 31. Cf. J. M. G. Barclay, Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora: From Alexander to Trajan (323 BCE–117 CE) (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996), pp. 195–6. 32. Tessa Rajak (Translation and Survival. The Greek Bible of the Ancient Jewish Diaspora (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), p. 49) has made a similar case for the Letter of Aristeas as a ‘reverse Exodus’ where Jewish slaves find refuge and liberation in Egypt.



‘God’s Great Deeds of Deliverance’

47

Third Maccabees’ account of the origin of the annual festivals functions in a similar manner. As was noted above, the book is often regarded as an etiology for the inauguration of the festivals and their annual celebration. Whatever the historical basis for the festivals – assuming they were historical – the author has strongly linked them to God’s salvific acts among the Egyptian Jews. As a consequence, every time the book’s readers came to celebrate the festivals, they could not help but be reminded of God’s deliverance and blessings in their past. Just as their celebration of Passover commemorated the exodus and their status as Israelites, the celebration of these festivals would commemorate their own status as Egyptian Jews. A second reason for the importance of salvation in 3 Maccabees is hortatory. The book’s emphasis on salvation is calculated to encourage its Jewish-Egyptian readership and discourage apostasy, syncretism, and cultural assimilation. The book reflects the Egyptian Jews’ sense of being profoundly in need of God’s salvation – both deliverance and blessing. Its characterization of the Jews as helpless and at the mercy of an arrogant and savage overlord furnishes a vivid portrayal of the diaspora’s situation in Egypt. They are like residents in the land of their enemies (3 Macc. 6.3, 15), and profoundly at odds with the gentile world around them. It has recently been argued that the book indicates that relations between the Jews and the Gentiles in the Egyptian diaspora were actually harmonious, and that 3 Maccabees ‘places its stress on concord, not antagonism’.33 This is to paint far too rosy a picture. The only Gentiles with whom the Jews are in concord in 3 Maccabees are ‘the Greeks in the city’ and those with whom they have had personal dealings. Everyone else – the king, his courtiers, the population, ‘those of other races’ (a0llo/fuloi) – is uniformly hostile (3 Macc. 3.8-10). As was noted above, the author frequently identifies or correlates ‘Gentiles’ with ‘enemies’. Such a picture can hardly be described as concord. That said, 3 Maccabees does not quite portray the relation between Jews and Gentiles as one of ‘profound enmity’.34 Rather, the situation it describes is largely one of alienation and disenfranchisement. Despite their loyalty to the regime and their virtuous actions (cf. 3 Macc. 3.2-9), the diaspora Jews evidently felt reviled and cut off from citizenship, from wealth, from positions of power, and from public esteem and recognition. Regularly confronted with hostility, their only recourse was to withdraw from gentile society and focus on intramural concerns. The impression remains, however, that if their situation changed, they would willingly become reintegrated in pagan society so long as it did not involve apostasy. In the meantime, however, they were oppressed and deprived of the perquisites and privileges

33. Erich Gruen, Heritage and Hellenism (Berkeley/Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1998) p. 233; cf. Collins, Athens and Jerusalem, p. 131; Johnson, Historical Fictions, pp. 178–9. 34. Noah Hacham, ‘3 Maccabees and Esther: Parallels, Intertextuality and Diaspora Identity’, JBL 126 (2007), pp. 765–85 (785).

48

This World and the World to Come

they felt they deserved.35 Third Maccabees’ rehearsal of God’s saving acts is designed to address these concerns. Salvation is such a prominent feature of 3 Maccabees, therefore, because it addressed the intense and ongoing crises experienced by the diaspora Jews in Egypt. Their situation was so compromised that they required continued assurance that God had indeed sanctioned their presence in Egypt and that they, too, were recipients of God’s promises. The book’s strong focus on deliverance affirmed that God continued to act in the world, and that he still heeded the prayers of his people – even in Egypt. The book’s emphasis on blessings confirmed that God still rewarded his people. Their continued faithfulness would ultimately result in a happy and fortunate existence, just as their apostasy would end in destruction. Third Maccabees’ depiction of God’s salvation, therefore, imparted a powerful message of hope to its Jewish readers, who felt helpless and alienated from the dominant – and dominating – gentile society. 7. Conclusion Salvation in 3 Maccabees is manifested in God’s acts of deliverance and restoration. While deliverance is much the more prominent of the two, both are of central importance to the book, and figure prominently in its genre and theme, its structure, and its characterization. Salvation is delimited to the Jewish people, and is confined to this world – there is no afterlife. This limitation of salvation to Israel arises from their special status as the chosen people and requires that they uphold God’s laws, and seek forgiveness when they fail to do so. Those Jews who deliberately apostatize, however, forfeit any part in God’s salvation. This message of salvation is designed to legitimate and sustain the diaspora Jews of Egypt. The account of God’s salvific acts among them establishes that they, too, are a legitimate part of God’s chosen people, that he has acted among them decisively in the past, and will continue to do so, if they remain loyal. Those who abide by his law, will be blessed. Those who do not will be cut off. It is to be wondered, however, just how effective this message of salvation proved to be in practice. In the Hellenistic and early Roman period the situation of the Jews in Egypt, especially in Alexandria, would have furnished many occasions where God seemed not to rescue his people, and where those who remained faithful to him were not rewarded. Apostasy and assimilation would have been tempting prospects.36 Pagan religion not only opened up the possibility of social advancement and prosperity, it also 35. The history of the Jewish people in Hellenistic Egypt is largely consistent with this picture. Cf. Barclay, Mediterranean Diaspora, pp. 19–81. Their dilemma is epitomized by their continued failure to obtain citizenship (i0sopolitei/a). 36. Barclay, Mediterranean Diaspora, pp. 32–3,103–12.



‘God’s Great Deeds of Deliverance’

49

offered the prospect of a happy afterlife. Philopator’s mysteries of Dionysus (cf. 3 Macc. 2.29-30), for instance, likely promised its initiates that once they had died they would embark on a joyous existence with their fellow initiates, eating and drinking in a pleasant part of the underworld.37 Next to these attractions, 3 Maccabees’ traditional assurances of deliverance and blessing solely within this world may well have seemed stale and démodé. A simple comparison of 3 Maccabees with the books that ‘bookend’ it, for instance – 2 and 4 Maccabees – reveals the far-reaching changes in the understanding of salvation that were taking place in the late Hellenistic and Roman world. In these books the confidence of the martyred Jews is not centred on deliverance and blessing in this life, but in the world to come, where God will vindicate and bless them. And, of course, 3 Maccabees’ traditional conception of salvation would likewise have been out of sympathy with emergent Christianity’s fervent belief in the afterlife, its apocalypticism, and its understanding of the place of the Gentiles in God’s plan of salvation. Such a state of affairs may help and explain why, despite its very strong focus on salvation, it came to be left out of the Vulgate and entered into relative obscurity for the next two millennia.

37. Fritz Graf and S. I. Johnston, Ritual Texts for the Afterlife: Orpheus and the Bacchic Gold Tablets (New York: Routledge, 2007) pp. 137–64; cf. 116.

Chapter 3

The Hermeneutic of Grace: The Soteriology of Pseudo-Philo’s Biblical Antiquities Preston M. Sprinkle 1. Introduction 1.1 Background and date of LAB Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum (hereafter LAB) is a rewriting of Israel’s history from Genesis to the beginning of 2 Samuel.1 Although the author follows the general storyline of the Hebrew Bible, many of the individual pericopae are reworked to express the author’s own interpretive and theological agenda. Regarding the provenance, most scholars agree that LAB is Palestinian and reflects the theology of non-sectarian Judaism.2 The date of the document, however, is highly debated.3 Most agree that it was written sometime between 135 bce and 135 ce,4 though scholars dispute whether it is a pre-70 ce5 or post-70 ce6 work. The main argument in favour 1. LAB ends rather abruptly which has led most scholars to believe that the original ending is lost, though Fredrick J. Murphy makes a case for the present ending as original (Pseudo-Philo: Rewriting the Bible (New York/Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993), pp. 17–18). 2. Cf. D. J. Harrington, ‘Pseudo-Philo’, in OTP, pp. 297–377 (300); Murphy, Pseudo-Philo, p. 7. 3. For a good summary, see Bruce Fisk, Do You Not Remember? Scripture, Story and Exegesis in the Rewritten Bible of Pseudo-Philo (JSPSup, 37; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001), pp. 34–40. 4. The date 135 bce is based on LAB 39.8–9 where the Amorite king who confronted Jepthah is named ‘Getal’, a possible Semitic variant of ‘Kotylas’ who is the ruler of Philadelphia; cf. Josephus Ant. 13.235; War 1.60 (Murphy, Pseudo-Philo, p. 6). For the terminal date of 135 ce, see Christian Dietzfelbinger, Pseudo-Philo: Antiquitates Biblicae (JSHRZ, 2.2; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus/Gerd Mohn, 1975), pp. 95–6. 5. D. J. Harrington, ‘The Original Language of Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum’, HTR (1970), pp. 503–14; idem, ‘The Biblical Text of Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum’, CBQ 33 (1971), pp.1–17; P. M. Bogaert, in Pseudo-Philon: Les Antiquités Bibliques (eds Daniel Harrington, et al.; SC, 230; Paris: Cerf, 1976), pp. 66–74; Murphy, Pseudo-Philo, pp. 3, 6. 6. Howard Jacobson, A Commentary on Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum With Latin Text and English Translation (AGAJU, 31; 2 vols; Leiden: E. J. Brill,



The Hermeneutic of Grace

51

of a pre-70 ce date is that there is no indisputable reference to the Jewish War or the destruction of the temple.7 While this is probably true, we will be more cautious and simply assume that it was written sometime in the latter half of the first century without positing a pre- or post-70 ce date.8 1.2 Soteriology in LAB In this essay, we will seek to articulate Pseudo-Philo’s soteriology. But the very use of this term can quickly lead to misunderstanding for two reasons. First, recent discussions on early Christian – especially Pauline – soteriology have spilled over into the study of Early Judaism. This may be admirable, but it has the potential of clouding or overlooking the particular concerns of Early Jewish texts. Therefore, we need to be careful not to read Christian categories back into our discussion of Pseudo-Philo, unless such categories can be evinced from his book itself. Second, we also need to be careful not to read other Early Jewish concerns into LAB That is, we need to take the very categories that Pseudo-Philo himself presents and let those dictate what he believes about ‘salvation’, and not ask questions of which the author of LAB is not concerned. There are several soteriological themes that are ubiquitous in LAB. First, as a non-sectarian work, LAB exhibits a nationalistic soteriology. That is, God has committed himself to the nation as a whole, not a particular sect (or tribe) within Israel. LAB is therefore different from many of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Enochic literature, which exhibit a more sectarian theology. For Pseudo-Philo, God’s covenant9 remains with the nation as a whole. Howard Jacobson represents the majority of scholars when he states: 1996); Richard Bauckham, ‘The Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum of Pseudo-Philo and the Gospels as “Midrash”’, in Gospel Perspectives III: Studies in Midrash and Historiography (eds R. T. France and David Wenham; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1983), pp. 33–76 (33); M. Wadworth, ‘A New “Pseudo-Philo”’, JJS 29 (1978), pp. 186–91. George Nickelsburg proposes a 70 ce date (see his, ‘Good and Bad Leaders in Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum’, in Ideal Figures in Ancient Judaism: Profiles and Paradigms (eds John J. Collins and George W. E. Nickelsburg; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1980), pp. 49–65 (63)). 7. Cf. Murphy, Pseudo-Philo, p. 6. See also Howard Jacobson, Commentary, pp. 1.202–05, and especially the bibliography in Fisk, Do You Not Remember? pp. 37 n. 70. 8. Fisk, Do You Not Remember? pp. 39–40; similarly Eckart Reinmuth, PseudoPhilo und Lukas: Studien zum Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum und seiner Bedeutung für die Interpretation des lukanischen Doppelwerks (WUNT, 74; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck), 1994), pp. 17–26. 9. For LAB, there is a collocation of the Noahic and Abrahamic covenants, which culminate in the covenant made with Israel at Sinai (see John Levinson, ‘Torah and Covenant in Pseudo Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum’, in Bund und Torah: Zur theologischen Begriffsgeschichte in alttestamentlicher, frühjüdischer und urchristlicher Tradition (eds Friedrich Avemarie and Hermann Lichtenberger; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1996), pp. 111–27). Thus, I will be using the term ‘covenant’ broadly to refer to God’s commitment to his people, with Sinai as the centrepiece.

52

This World and the World to Come

If there is a single predominant theme in LAB, it is the following: No matter how much the Jewish people suffer, no matter how bleak the outlook appears, God will never completely abandon His people and in the end salvation and triumph will be the lot of the Jews.10

Second, regarding this ‘salvation and triumph’, Psuedo-Philo has a firm belief in the bodily resurrection of the dead.11 The following two passages are typical: But when the years appointed for the world have been fulfilled, then the light will cease and the darkness will fade away. And I will bring the dead to life and raise up those who are sleeping from the earth. And hell will pay back its debt, and the place of perdition will return its deposit so that I may render to each according to his works and according to the fruits of his own devices (ut reddam unicuique secundum opera sua et secundum fructus adinventionum suarum), until I judge between soul and flesh. (LAB 3.10a) And who knows that if you tell the truth to us, even if you die now, nevertheless God will have mercy on you when he will resurrect the dead? (Et quis scit quoniam si dixeritis veritatem nobis, etsi modo moriamini, miserebitur tamen vobis Deus cum vivificabit mortuos? (LAB 25.7)

Both of these passages have disputed elements, some of which will be discussed below; nevertheless, both unambiguously describe a future resurrection. The latter passage (25.7) simply assumes it. Third, along with resurrection, God will also restore creation. The latter part of 3.10 states: And the world will cease, and death will be abolished, and hell will shut its mouth. And the earth will not be without progeny or sterile for those inhabiting it; and no one who has been pardoned by me will be tainted. And there will be another earth and another heaven, an everlasting dwelling place. (3.10b)

This ‘everlasting dwelling place’ is probably what is described later as ‘the immortal dwelling place that is not subject to time’ and ‘the place of sanctification’, which was shown to Moses just prior to his death (LAB 19.12-

10. Commentary, pp. 241–2. Cf. LAB 18.10: ‘It is easier to take away the foundations of the topmost part of the earth and to extinguish the light of the sun and to darken the light of the moon than for anyone to uproot the planting of the Most Powerful or to destroy his vine;’ cf. also 4.11; 7.4; 9.4, 7; 10.2; 13.10; 19.2; 30.7; 35.3 and 49.3; cf. especially Levinson, ‘Torah and Covenant’, pp. 111–27; F. J. Murphy, ‘The Eternal Covenant in Pseudo-Philo’, JSP 3 (1988), pp. 43–57; idem, Pseudo-Philo, pp. 244–6; Fisk, Do You Not Remember? pp. 45–50; Peter Enns, ‘Expansions of Scripture’, in Justification and Variegated Nomism: Volume 1: The Complexities of Second Temple Judaism (eds D. A. Carson, Mark A. Seifrid, and Peter T. O’Brien; 2 vols.; WUNT, 2.140; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001), pp. 73–93 (88–92). 11. For resurrection, see LAB 3.10; 19.12-13; 23.13; 26.13; 51.5; 64.7. For damnation in hell, see LAB 16.3; 31.7; 51.5; 63.6.



The Hermeneutic of Grace

53

13). Deborah mentions this event in passing as the ‘renewal of creation’ (32.17; cf. vv. 7-8; 16.3). Fourth, in contrast to the paradisiacal new creation that the resurrected righteous will inherit, the wicked will go to a ‘place … in darkness and the place of destruction’ when God visits the earth (16.3). This place of punishment is described later as ‘the place of fire where the deeds of those doing wickedness against me will be expiated’ (23.6); ‘the fire in which you will die’ (38.4); the place where the ‘the wicked’ will be ‘shut up in darkness’ (51.5); and a ‘dwelling place … in inextinguishable fire forever’ (63.4). Jael simply calls the place ‘hell’, where she tells her newfound foe, Sisera, to go do his boasting (31.7). In short, LAB exhibits unambiguously the apocalpytic categories of new creation and hell as the dwelling places of the righteous and wicked respectively. But who are the wicked? Certainly, this includes all Gentiles who are not part of God’s covenant. Pseudo-Philo does not show any concern for the nations, and he prohibits intermarriage with Gentiles, as seen clearly in his creative retelling of Tamar’s fornication with Judah: For her intent was not fornication, but being unwilling to separate from the sons of Israel she reflected and said, ‘It is better for me to die for having intercourse with my father-in-law than to have intercourse with gentiles.’ (LAB 9.5; cf. 18.13-14; 43.5, 7)

Pseudo-Philo also believes that God will judge apostate Israelites, though the line that separates sinful Israelites from apostates is fuzzy. Some who commit apostasy are clearly judged (16.1-7; 38.1-4), while other Israelites who commit some extreme sins seem to anticipate the mercy of God (e.g., 25.7-10). We will discuss this issue in more detail below. In short, Pseudo-Philo believes that national Israel is bound to their God by an irrevocable covenant through Abraham and Moses. Salvation will come in the end, when God resurrects Israel, judges the wicked,12 and renews his creation with its paradisiacal splendour – and this end-time restorative act is what we will mean when we use the terms salvation and soteriology in this essay. 2. Divine and human agency in salvation But more specifically, this essay will focus on the relationship between God and man in accomplishing eschatological salvation. Generally speaking, there are two approaches to this relationship in LAB The first approach underscores the Deuteronomic scheme of sin–punishment–repentance– salvation, which, some would argue, is ubiquitous in the book. So for 12. The ambiguous contrast between ‘Israel’ and ‘the wicked’ is intentional. One would expect a contrast between ‘the righteous’ and ‘the wicked’, but, as we will see below, Pseudo-Philo does not seem to consider Israel to be very righteous.

54

This World and the World to Come

instance, George Nickelsburg, in his important article ‘Good and Bad Leaders in Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum’, argues that the author uses ‘the historical pattern that shapes the narrative of Judges: sin; divine punishment at the hand of an enemy; repentance; salvation through a divinely appointed leader’.13 The Deuteronomic scheme that shapes the book of Judges also pervades LAB. He goes on to note that, ‘Within the Deuteronomic pattern that structures Judges and the narrative of PseudoPhilo, these infractions of the [violation of] covenantal law lead to divine punishment, and this punishment is removed when the people repent’.14 Likewise, Chris VanLandingham, in his recent book on Paul and Judaism, argues that ‘Pseudo-Philo affirms again and again a strict application of the Deuteronomic formula for reward and punishment’15 and that ‘God’s salvation … depends on the nation’s repentance’.16 The second approach to LAB affirms the presence of Deuteronomic elements, but recognizes Pseudo-Philo’s relative neglect of repentance, thus downplaying the role of human agency in final salvation. Fredrick Murphy has defended this approach in his prolific contribution to the study of LAB. Arguing against the Deuteronomic interpretation of Nickelsburg, Murphy states: ‘More often than not the people are completely passive, even when repentance or appeal for help is present in the biblical texts. Israel’s deliverance usually does not depend on its own action in any way’.17 Murphy believes that Pseudo-Philo certainly wants Israel to repent from their sin, and he agrees that there are instances of repentance in the book.18 ‘Nonetheless’, he concludes, ‘Pseudo-Philo is primarily concerned to stress hope based on the irrevocability of God’s commitment to Israel, a commitment that has been constant since the time of Abraham’.19 According to this second view, then, the irrevocability of the covenant overshadows those passages where repentance is present, thus emphasizing divine agency in Israel’s salvation. In this essay, I will defend this second view, while recognizing that the book may not exhibit a uniform perspective on the issue. And again, we must resist the temptation of reading modern ‘soteriological’ categories back into LAB; however, we find such categories mentioned above to be typical of the literature of this period. Josephus, for example, classifies the ‘four philosophies’ in terms of their articulation ‘fate’ and ‘free will’ (Ant. 18.11-25; War 8.11966). Ben Sira is adamant in defending ‘free will’ over determinism (15.1120). The Dead Sea Scrolls, on the other hand, are laced with large tracks of 13. Nickelsburg, ‘Good and Bad Leaders in Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum’, in Ideal Figures in Ancient Judaism: Profiles and Paradigms (eds John J. Collins and George W. E. Nickelsburg; Chico, CA; Scholars Press, 1980), pp. 49–65 (50). 14. Nickelsburg, ‘Good and Bad Leaders’, p. 60. 15. Chris VanLandingham, Judgment and Justification in Early Judaism and in the Apostle Paul (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2006), p. 32. 16. VanLandingham, Judgment and Justification, p. 31. 17. Murphy, ‘Eternal Covenant’, p. 43. 18. For repentance in LAB, see 21.6; 33.2, 5. Repentance is also present in 13.10, though it is not emphasized, and in 19.2-5 and 25.7 it is downplayed. 19. Murphy, ‘Eternal Covenant’, p. 54.



The Hermeneutic of Grace

55

deterministic language (CD 2.2-13; 1QH passim; 4Q186).20 In considering, therefore, Pseudo-Philo’s understanding of the divine and human relation in terms of eschatological salvation, we are not removing him from his Sitz im Leben. He is very much at home in this discussion, as we will see.21 2.1 The irrevocability of the covenant Pseudo-Philo emphasizes that God’s covenant with the nation is irrevocable, and its fulfilment will culminate in eschatological salvation and resurrection. While scholars are quick to recognize this, some see an element of conditionality wrapped up in God’s irrevocable covenant – God will certainly not go back on his promise to save, provided that the nation repents and manifests obedience. But there is evidence in LAB that the emphasis on God’s unconditional covenant supplants any potential conditional elements. This is seen in the way Pseudo-Philo rewrites biblical passages that portray a conditional covenant, such as in LAB 13.10. Here, God speaks to Moses22 concerning ‘the salvation of the souls of the people’ (13.10). The speech consists of a lengthy paraphrase of Lev. 26.3-4, a passage that explicates the conditional ‘if … then’ of covenant blessing. If you walk in my statutes and observe my commandments and do them, then I will give you your rains in their season, and the land shall yield its increase, and the trees of the field shall yield their fruit. (Lev. 26.3-4) If they walk in my ways, I will not abandon them but will have mercy on them always and bless their seed; and the earth will quickly yield its fruit, and there will be rains for their advantage, and it will not be barren. But I know for sure that they will make their ways corrupt and I will abandon them, and they will forget the covenants that I have established with their fathers; but nevertheless I will not forget them forever. (LAB 13.10)

Our author begins his paraphrase by following the biblical text, but then substitutes the conditional ‘if … then’ with the notion of God’s unconditional mercy.23 Obedience will certainly bring blessing, as in the Leviticus passage, but God’s irrevocable covenant ensures blessing even if Israel does not

20. For other treatments of divine and human agency in Early Jewish soteriology, see John M. G. Barclay and Simon J. Gathercole (eds), Divine and Human Agency in Paul and His Cultural Environment (LNTS, 335; London: T&T Clark, 2006). 21. For a fuller presentation of these arguments, see my essay, ‘Covenant Nomism Revisited: The Soteriological Framework of Pseudo-Philo’, in Christian Origins and Hellenistic Judaism: Literary and Social Contexts for the New Testament (eds Stanley E. Porter and Andrew W. Pitts; The New Testament in its Hellenistic Context; Leiden: Brill, forthcoming). 22. Or possibly to Noah (Harrington, ‘Pseudo-Philo’, p. 322). 23. See Murphy, ‘Eternal Covenant’, p. 47; Betsy Halpern-Amaru, Rewriting the Bible: Land and Covenant in Post-Biblical Jewish Literature (Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1994), pp. 85–6.

56

This World and the World to Come

turn from their corruption. Similarly, in LAB 19.2, Pseudo-Philo rewrites Deuteronomy 31, transforming conditionality into unconditionality. This people will arise and play the harlot with the strange gods of the land, into the midst of which they are going, and will forsake Me and break My covenant … Then my anger will be kindled against them in the day, and I will forsake them and hide my face from them … For I know that after my death you will act corruptly and turn from the way which I have commanded you; and evil will befall you in the latter days, for you will do that which is evil in the sight of the LORD, provoking Him to anger with the work of your hands. (Deut. 31.16-29) I know that you will rise up and forsake the words established for you through me, and God will be angry with you and abandon you and depart from your land. And he will bring upon you those who hate you, and they will rule over you, but not forever, because he will remember the covenant that he established with your fathers. (LAB 19.2)

Deuteronomy 31 speaks only of Israel’s rebellion and God’s wrath, but not of restoration. So Pseudo-Philo inserts the final statement to convince his audience that restoration, not wrath, will be the final word for God’s people. If our author believed that God’s mercy did have certain conditions, then he certainly does not state this clearly. In fact, he seems to alter the biblical text to convince his audience that God’s mercy is unconditional. In another instance, Pseudo-Philo creatively uses the Noahide covenant as an interpretive lens to understand the Sinaitic covenant. The former is unilateral, expressing God’s unconditional commitment to creation as a whole, while the latter is bilateral. God will maintain his commitment to Israel, if they obey his Torah. But in LAB 19, our author conflates the two, when God’s speaks to Moses just before his death and says: Now therefore, write this song for yourselves, and teach it to the sons of Israel; put it on their lips, in order that this song may be a witness for me against the sons of Israel … Then it shall come about, when many evils and troubles have come upon them, that this song will testify before them as a witness. (Deut. 31.19, 21) And now your staff with which these signs were performed will be a witness between me and my people. And when they sin, I will be angry with them but I will recall your staff and spare them in accord with my mercy. And your staff will be before me as a reminder all the days, and it will be like the bow with which I established my covenant with Noah when he went forth from the ark, saying ‘I will place my bow in the cloud, and it will be for a sign between me and men that never again will the flood water cover all the earth’. (LAB 19.11)

In the Hebrew Bible, it is the song of Deuteronomy 32 which is a witness against Israel, reminding her that their disobedience will elicit God’s wrath. But here, it is Moses’ staff that will remind God to spare Israel in accordance with his mercy. So while the biblical context of Deuteronomy 32 reiterates the negative results of apostasy, Pseudo-Philo integrates language from the Noahide covenant to ensure his audience that God’s commitment to Israel is unilateral and everlasting. Judith Newman rightly concludes that, ‘The



The Hermeneutic of Grace

57

author seems intentionally to have chosen the Noahide covenant because the covenant with Noah is a berit ‘olam, never to be reversed’.24 Pseudo-Philo’s persistent stress on the irrevocable nature of God’s covenant with Israel underscores divine agency in Israel’s future salvation. 2.2 God’s covenant with Abraham Pseudo-Philo’s treatment of the Abraham narrative supports his stress on the irrevocable nature of the covenant, though here he is a bit more subtle. While Second Temple literature is very diverse, there is one theological point that is quite uniform among these writings: Abraham was the model Israelite, displaying good works which constituted his righteousness (see Sir. 44.1921; 1 Macc. 2.52; Jub. 23.10; CD 3.2; cf. Lev. Rab. 2.10.). The Hebrew Bible itself consistently states that Abraham was obedient to God’s commands (Gen. 17.1-2, 9; 18.19; 22.16-18; 26.3-5). For Chris VanLandingham, Pseudo-Philo is a piece of the same cloth: Abraham’s obedience is the focal point of LAB’s retelling of the Genesis narrative. He goes so far as to say that God’s ‘election’ of Abraham ‘is a reward for [his] obedience to God’s will, not the unmerited gift of God’s grace’.25 However, while LAB certainly portrays Abraham as obedient, when viewed against the backdrop of other second temple texts, LAB is strikingly reluctant to draw this out. Even though Abraham is central to LAB, Pseudo-Philo does not emphasize his deeds. In fact, Abraham’s deeds are hardly mentioned. Throughout the story, Abraham’s ‘trust in God’ is his primary attribute (6.9, 11; cf. 23.5), but his active obedience remains subsidiary.26 The only explicit reference to Abraham’s moral character comes in the prediction of his birth where he is described as ‘perfect and blameless’ (4.11). God’s action and covenant with Abraham, rather than Abraham’s deeds, are emphasized in the story.27 Throughout chapter 6, Abraham is rather passive in comparison to the biblical account,28 and in the 24. Judith Newman, ‘The Staff of Moses and the Mercy of God’, in Israel in the Wilderness: Interpretations of Biblical Narratives in Jewish and Christian Traditions (ed. Kenneth E. Pomykala; Leiden: Brill, 2008), pp. 137–56 (155). 25. VanLandingham, Judgment and Justification, p. 333. 26. LAB’s view of ‘faith’ seems close to Paul’s understanding of faith as ‘trust’, rather than the more standard view of ‘faithfulness’. 27. See Fredrick J. Murphy, ‘Divine Plan, Human Plan: A Structuring Theme in Pseudo-Philo’, JQR 77 (1986), pp. 5–14 (5–10). 28. In LAB’s story, Joktan is initially presented as a good character, but unlike Abraham who patiently waits for God to act, Joktan ‘combines trust in God with practical action involving cooperation with sinner’ (Murphy, ‘Divine Plan’, p. 10). Human initiative is not praised in the Abraham narrative. This is seen also in the lack of any reference to Abraham’s obedience in circumcision, which is highlighted in the biblical account (see the next note). The same is also true of Moses. In LAB, ‘circumcision is no product of human hands, of obedience to the stipulations of the covenant with Abraham … rather, Moses was miraculously “born in the covenant of God and the covenant of the flesh” (pp. 9, 13)’ (Levison, ‘Torah and Covenant’, p. 113).

58

This World and the World to Come

summary of the Abraham story, the deeds of Abraham are not mentioned. There is no mention of Abraham having ‘kept the law of the Most High’ (Sir. 44.20), or his ‘keeping the commandments of God’ (CD 3.2). The law and its commandments are not mentioned in Pseudo-Philo’s account. The focus, rather, is on God’s merciful choice of him (7.4; 8.1-3). Moreover, despite being ‘perfect and blameless’ (4.11), Abraham admits that he has sin in his life that may elicit God’s punishment – a fate he is willing to endure (6.11).29 Pseudo-Philo’s account would not stand out as unusual were it not for the explicit emphasis on Abraham’s deeds in many other Second Temple documents. When viewed against this backdrop, the Abraham story in LAB seems to highlight the unconditional nature of God’s covenant with Abraham, staving off any attempt to conclude that God elected Abraham because he kept the law.30 2.3 Judgment according to works A third way in which Pseudo-Philo’s emphasizes divine agency is through passages that discuss the future judgment. While other Second Temple books affirm that the righteous will be rewarded on judgment day because of their good deeds,31 LAB does not clearly support this notion. The most frequent tendency in LAB is to affirm that all Israel will be rewarded with resurrection. For instance, in his final speech to the nation, Joshua addresses the entire nation and says: But also at the end of the lot of each one of you [i.e., the nation] will be life eternal, for you and your seed, and I will take your souls and store them in peace until the time allotted the world be complete. And I will restore you to your fathers and your fathers to you, and they will know through you that I have not chosen you in vain. (LAB 23.13)

Several statements in this speech underscore the belief that the promise is true for all Israel: ‘all the people … woman and children’ (23.1, 2, cf. 4); ‘each one of you’ (23.13); ‘you and your seed’ (23.13). God will, therefore, not only resurrect the obedient ones within the nation, for these are few and far between; rather, he will resurrect the entire nation. This is illustrated again in the fabricated story about Kenaz and the wicked Israelites (LAB 25–26).32 When Kenaz assumes leadership after Joshua, God 29. Other model leaders, such as Kenaz and Elkanah, admit to having sin in their life (27.7; 49.5). 30. Contra VanLandingham, Judgment and Justification, p. 29, LAB 18.5 and 32.4 do not say that ‘everything Abraham receives from God he deserves’. 31. For a survey of texts, see Simon J. Gathercole, Where is Boasting? Early Jewish Soteriology and Paul’s Response in Romans 1–5 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), pp. 37–160. Of course, the specific nature of the reward will differ depending on the document in question. For LAB the reward is resurrection. 32. Kenaz is ‘the most mystifying and astonishing figure in the Antiquities’ (Nickelsburg, ‘Good and Bad Leaders’, p. 54). He is only mentioned in Judg. 3.9, 11 as the



The Hermeneutic of Grace

59

reveals to him that there are some Israelites from every tribe ‘whose heart has turned away from the LORD’ (25.3). They are then revealed (25.3-6), they confess their sin (25.9-10), and then Kenaz burns them with fire as punishment for their sin (26.5). Despite their wicked behaviour – including idolatry, sorcery, cannibalism, and child sacrifice (23.9-10) – Kenaz holds out the possibility that God may still resurrect them in the end: And who knows that if you tell the truth to us, even if you die now, nevertheless God will have mercy on you when he will resurrect the dead? (Et quis scit quoniam si dixeritis veritatem nobis, etsi modo moriamini, miserebitur tamen vobis Deus cum vivificabit mortuos? (25.7)

The fact that Kenaz even states the possibility of their resurrection is suggestive: God may resurrect even the exceptionally disobedient, thus underscoring the priority of divine agency over human agency as the basis for resurrection.33 But how confident is Kenaz about their future resurrection? While the phrase Et quis scit (‘And who knows’) seems ambiguous, a parallel construction may indicate that Kenaz is speaking about the probability not just possibility of future resurrection. In LAB 30.4, Israel says, ‘And who knows (Et quis scit), perhaps God will be reconciled with his inheritance so as not to destroy the plant of his vineyard?’ Since Pseudo-Philo clearly affirms that God cannot destroy his vineyard (cf. LAB 18.10), we should probably understand the phrase as more rhetorical than actual: it is stating a matter of fact, not an open possibility. In turn, if we take the statement of Kenaz in LAB 25.7 the same way, then he too is affirming the reality of their future resurrection. Again, good deeds are encouraged in LAB, but they do not determine the final destiny of God’s covenant people. There are two possible exceptions to this, however; exceptions that may suggest that individual Israelites will be resurrected only if they demonstrate good deeds. The first passage is LAB 3.10, which comes at the end of the flood narrative: But when the years appointed for the world have been fulfilled, then the light will cease and the darkness will fade away. And I will bring the dead to life and raise up those who are sleeping from the earth. And hell will pay back its debt, and the place of perdition will return its deposit so that I may render to each according to his works and according to the fruits of his own devices [ut reddam unicuique secundum opera sua et secundum fructus adinventionum suarum], until I judge between soul and flesh. (LAB 3.10)

father of Othniel, yet he is given more attention in LAB than any other biblical character apart from Moses. 33. ‘Kenaz does not presume to know what God’s judgment will be but extends to the sinners the hope that their confession will evoke Gods’ mercy at the Resurrection’ (Murphy, Pseudo-Philo, p. 119).

60

This World and the World to Come

I have discussed this passage in detail elsewhere and have argued that the last sentence refers to the damnation of wicked sinners based on their evil deeds, not to the resurrection of the righteous for their good deeds.34 The references to ‘his works’ and ‘the fruits of his own devices’ refer exclusively to the wicked deeds of sinners – specifically, those sinners of the flood generation (LAB 3.3, 4, 6). Otherwise, the basis of the resurrection of the righteous is not stated. LAB 64.7 also may suggest that good deeds35 are the basis of resurrection, and if it does, this may highlight human agency. In this passage, Samuel is conjured up by Saul (cf. 1 Samuel 28) and says: ‘I thought that the time for being rendered the rewards of my deeds had arrived’. While this passage may highlight human agency, this does not seem to be the point of the passage. In any case, even if there is some diversity on this issue, the dominant message seems to be that God will resurrect the entire nation of Israel based on his unconditional commitment to save (i.e., resurrect) the nation. 2.4 The role of repentance in salvation My thesis thus far is that Pseudo-Philo emphasizes divine agency in salvation throughout LAB. He does not disregard human agency completely; he only downplays it as a determining factor for Israel’s salvation. This conclusion is supported, perhaps most clearly, in my fourth and final argument: PseudoPhilo does not believe that repentance is a precondition for Israel’s future salvation, even though the nation is for the most part disobedient. While there is a reward–punishment scheme throughout in the book, it often describes temporary outcomes, not eternal ones. Even in instances where the people do repent,36 the author is quick to show that their repentance is not the basis of God’s restorative action (e.g., in Pseudo-Philo’s account of Deborah). The covenant with the fathers is. In order to examine Pseudo-Philo’s view of repentance, we will look in some detail at his interaction with the book of Judges. It is clear that our author was attracted to this book, since nearly one third of his rewritten Bible is devoted to it (LAB 25–48). But why? At least one possibility has to do with the commonalities between Pseudo-Philo’s situation and the context of Judges. Judges depicts a time when Israel was living under foreign domination. They had many leaders during this time, but no kings (it is premonarchical). Pseudo-Philo is also interested in leadership, but not in kings or priests. Judges provides Pseudo-Philo with an analogous situation to his own. ‘Leadership’, says Murphy, ‘was an urgent issue in the first century and 34. Sprinkle, ‘Covenant Nomism Revisited’. 35. For LAB, the good deeds refer to Torah observance in general, though throughout the book certain laws stand out above others, such as the prohibition of idolatry (25.9-13; 34.1-5; 38.1-4) and intermarriage (9.5; 18.13-14). 36. For repentance in LAB, see 21.6; 33.2, 5. Repentance is also present in 13.10, though it is not emphasized and in 19.2-5 and 25.7 it is downplayed.



The Hermeneutic of Grace

61

became critical during the war against Rome’.37 Thus, Pseudo-Philo is drawn to Judges for sociological reasons. I would suggest, too, that he is attracted to Judges for theological reasons. While scholars recognize this, some argue that Pseudo-Philo is attracted to the book of Judges in light of its Deuteronomic scheme of sin–punishment– repentance–salvation, while others assume that Pseudo-Philo modifies the strict conditional framework of Judges. I suggest in this essay, in disagreement with both of these views, that Pseudo-Philo is attracted to Judges precisely because Judges itself highlights God’s irrevocable covenant and does not view repentance (or even obedience) as a pre-condition for salvation (in Judges, of course, salvation is understood as military deliverance from foreign enemies).38 2.4.1 The soteriology of Judges Scholars have often understood Judges as exemplifying a Deuteronomic pattern of sin–punishment–repentance–salvation. Such a pattern is shaped by a merit theology of reward and punishment. If Israel obeys, she will be blessed; if she disobeys, she will be cursed. The third element in this cycle, the repentance of Israel, is often read out of the phrase ‘And Israel cried out to the LORD …’ (Judg. 3.9, 15; 4.3; 6.6, 7; 10.10). But the word q(z (‘cry out’) does not imply repentance. The word only suggests that Israel was suffering under the hand of an oppressor and wanted physical deliverance. Throughout the Hebrew Bible, q(z is often used of one’s cry to a person in authority, especially in times of oppression.39 It is typical in the murmuring motif, when the grumbling Israelites cried out to Moses and God, asking for deliverance from physical suffering.40 Repentance from sin is not inherent in the word and incidents where Israel actually repents from sin are few and far between in Judges. The only passage where Israel actually repents is at the beginning of the account of Jephthah (Judg. 10.10-16). In Judg. 10.10-16, the author introduces the Jephthah cycle in typical fashion – Israel does evil in the eyes of the LORD, is handed over into the 37. Frederick J. Murphy, ‘Retelling the Bible: Idolatry in Pseudo-Philo’, JBL 107 (1988), pp. 275–87 (287). 38. For the book of Judges, repentance refers primarily to turning from idols and intermarriage, and these two concerns are shared by LAB as well (see note 34 above). 39. Exodus 5.8; 1 Sam. 28.12; 2 Sam. 19.5, 28; 2 Kgs 4.40; 6.5; Ezek. 21.7; Est. 4.1; see Fredrick E. Greenspahn, ‘The Theology of the Framework of Judges’, VT 36 (1986), pp. 385–96 (392). The term is often used in contexts of mourning and war (1 Sam. 7.8; 23.12; 2 Sam. 19.5; 1 Kgs 22.32; Isa. 14.31; 15.5; Jer. 25.34; Ezek. 27.3), and many times it is used by a non-Israelite: Exod. 8.8; 22.22, 28; 1 Sam. 5.10; 19.20; Isa. 65.14; Jer. 47.2; Jon. 1.5; et al. (Greenspahn, ‘The Theology’, p. 393). 40. Exodus 14.10; 15.25; 17.4; Num. 11.7; Josh. 24.7; see Greenspahn, ‘The Theology’, p. 392.

62

This World and the World to Come

hands of an oppressor, and finally they ‘cried out (wq(zyw) to the LORD’ (10.10). This cry is atypically accompanied by their confession of sin (10.10) and repentance (10.16). Indeed, this is the only passage in Judges where Israel actually turns from sin, and yet God’s response to Israel’s apparent repentance is striking: ‘his soul was short with the misery’. The phrase is ambiguous. Can God no longer bear their misery? Or can he no longer bear their pseudorepentance? God is simply sick of it – without stating clearly what the it is.41 The character of Jephthah, God’s agent of deliverance, enforces the ambiguity of God’s posture toward the Israelites’ repentance. God certainly uses Jephthah to defeat the Midianites, but in the end it is Israel who bears the weight of defeat. In the wake of Jephthah’s heroic feats against Israel’s enemies, a civil war breaks out within Israel itself. The result: 46,000 Israelites dead. The number of casualties among Israelites killed by Israelites is greater than the sum total of Canaanites killed by Israelites in the entire book of Judges. Did God deliver Israel because they repented, or did he judge them through Jephthah because his soul was short with their pseudo-repentance? The subsequent Jephthah cycle, to my mind, suggests the latter. However we interpret the Jephthah story, one this is clear: repentance does not play a significant role in the Deuteronomic scheme in Judges – if any role at all. The theology of salvation, or deliverance, in Judges accentuates the unconditional grace of God constantly poured out on his sinful people. And this theme, I suggest, is one significant reason for Pseudo-Philo’s sustained attention to the book of Judges. 2.4.2 Pseudo-Philo’s reading of Judges Pseudo-Philo devotes one third of his commentary (or rewritten Bible) to the book of Judges, and it is in this section where we see the role of repentance downplayed the most. To demonstrate this, I will look at PseudoPhilo’s treatment of three judges: Deborah, Gideon, and Jephthah. The significance for Pseudo-Philo’s soteriology will become evident from these three examples. 2.4.2.1 Deborah The biblical account of Deborah follows closely the typical pattern of Judges. Israel ‘again did evil in the sight of the LORD’, so God ‘sold them into the hand of Jabin king of Canaan’ (Judg. 4.1-2). The ‘sons of Israel’ then ‘cried to the LORD’ and thus God raised up Deborah to deliver the Israelites from oppression.42 Again, there is no indication that Israel actually repented 41. For a discussion on this verse, see Robert Polzin, Moses and the Deuteronomist: A Literary Study of the Deuteronomistic History (New York: Seabury, 1980), p. 177. 42. The Deborah account does not actually say that God raised up a deliverer, thus departing from the typical pattern. God’s agency in delivering Israel, however, is implied in 4.6, 14, 15, and 23.



The Hermeneutic of Grace

63

from their sin. Any praise for Israel is reserved solely for their willingness to participate in the militaristic mission (4.17-22; 5.2, 13-15), but the focal point in the narrative (Judges 4) and the song (Judges 5) is clearly the agency of Yahweh (4.15, 23; 5.1, 20). Pseudo-Philo’s account of Deborah follows the biblical account rather closely, though, of course, with some creative expansions and asides. Israel’s sin is specified in the opening paragraph as forgetting the promises and ‘the ways that Moses and Joshua … had commanded them’; namely, the prohibition of intermarriage and idolatry (30.1). Yahweh then raises up Jabin king of Hazor to punish them for their sin (30.2). After being attacked and ‘badly humiliated’ (30.3-4), the Israelites announce the reason for their oppression: And now who has done all these things to us? Is it not our own wicked deeds, because we have forsaken the LORD of our fathers and have walked in the ways that have not profited us? And now come, let us fast for seven days, from man to woman and from the least to the suckling child. And who knows, perhaps God will be reconciled with his inheritance so as not to destroy the plant of his vineyard?

While it may be tempting to interpret their fasting as repentance, nowhere in the account is any repentance mentioned, though their sin continues to attract Pseudo-Philo’s attention. Deborah’s response to the cry of the people is simply to remind them that despite their past leaders (Moses, Joshua, Kenaz, and Zebul, 30.5), Israel has been disobedient. God keeps intervening, yet the people keep disobeying. However, Deborah assures them that God will intervene once again: And behold now the LORD will take pity on you today, not because of you but because of his covenant that he established with your fathers and the oath that he has sworn not to abandon you forever. (30.7)

Even though the people fasted – and even if they did repent, though this is ambiguous – human action in no way triggers God’s grace, and this is the main brunt of Deborah’s speech. God’s deliverance is based solely on his prior commitment to the fathers. God’s unconditional grace is even more explicitly recounted in the midst of the ensuing battle between Israel and Sisera (31.1-2). In the Bible, the event is recounted strictly in military terms, but in LAB it is framed in theological terms. At the climax of the event is God’s reassurance that ‘even though my people have sinned, nevertheless I will have mercy on them’. It is this divine affirmation that then prompts the stars to burn up the Canaanites (31.2). The basic movement of Pseudo-Philo’s retelling of Judges 4 sticks close to the biblical account. When he departs, it is usually to explore the theological motivation for God’s agency in delivering Israel. Most often, God’s unconditional commitment to Israel in spite of their sin is the formal cause of divine intervention. And this is the salient feature reinforced in PseudoPhilo’s rewritten Song of Deborah (Judges 5 / LAB 32). God’s intervention

64

This World and the World to Come

through the stars on account of his covenant – not as a response to Israel’s obedience or repentance – is underscored throughout. For instance, Deborah stirs up Israel to praise the LORD, because by using the stars to deliver them, ‘He has remembered both his recent and ancient promises and shown his saving power to us’ (32.11-12). And later, God reassures Deborah: And from this hour, if Israel falls into distress, it will call upon those witnesses along with these servants and they will form a delegation to the Most High, and he will remember that day and send the saving power of his covenant. (32.14)

In summary, Pseudo-Philo’s retelling of Judges 4–5 highlights the theological motivation for God’s military intervention. Despite the fact that Israel is sinful, God will continue to deliver them, not as a response to their repentance but because of his covenant made with the fathers. While Judges is referring to military deliverance, Pseudo-Philo uses this to support his consistent emphasis on God’s salvation of Israel – his resurrection of the nation. 2.4.2.2 Gideon Pseudo-Philo’s account of Gideon is similar to his account of Deborah, drawing attention to the same theological themes: God will never go back on his promise to the fathers no matter how sinful Israel is, even if they do not turn from that sin. Once again, the account begins by interpreting Israel’s sin as forgetting the promises of God. The people are oppressed by the Midianites and cry out: And where are the wonders that our fathers described to us, saying, ‘The LORD has chosen Israel alone before all the peoples of the earth?’ And behold now he has delivered us up and forgotten the promises that he told our fathers?

The people presume that their oppression is the result of God’s failure to honour his promise. This bold claim elicits the immediate rebuke from the angel of the LORD: You have not been delivered up without reason, but your own schemes have done these things to you; because, as you have abandoned the promises that you have received from the LORD, these evils have found you out; and you have not been mindful of the commandments of God that those who were before you commanded you, so that you have come into the displeasure of your God. (35.3)

Instead of demanding repentance, the angel’s trenchant rebuke is immediately followed by an affirmation of God’s unwavering commitment to his sinful people: ‘But he will have mercy, as no one else has mercy, on the race of Israel, though not on account of you but on account of those who have fallen asleep’ (35.3). After commissioning Gideon, the angel conveys God’s commitment again: Even if Israel is not just, nevertheless because the Midianites are sinners, though I recognize the wickedness of my people, I will forgive them and afterward I will



The Hermeneutic of Grace

65

rebuke them because they have acted wickedly. But for the present I will take my vengeance upon the Midianites. (35.4)

The author struggles to correlate God’s justice toward sin with God’s unconditional mercy toward his people. As a result, God will forgive his people for their sin (mercy) and yet rebuke them afterwards (justice). In any case, the people never actually repent from their sin. Similar to his account of Deborah, Pseudo-Philo has accentuated God’s unconditional commitment to Israel in spite of their sin. Nowhere does Israel repent. 2.4.2.3 Jephthah As mentioned above, the Jephthah story contains the only time in the book of Judges where Israel actually repents. If Pseudo-Philo were attracted to Judges for its Deuteronomic scheme (sin–punishment–repentance–salvation), then this story would be a golden opportunity for him to draw this out. But he does not. As with his retelling of Deborah and Gideon, his account of Jephthah highlights God’s unconditional commitment to his sinful people – this time with remarkable creativity. Pseudo-Philo begins his account of Jephthah in LAB 39.1-3 by following the biblical text closely, recounting Jephthah’s mistreatment and exile from Israel (Judg. 11.1-7). After being oppressed, the Israelites seek to retrieve Jephthah and install him as their leader. Pseudo-Philo then departs from the biblical account, creating a dialogue between the people and Jephthah that is saturated with theological concerns. After the people seek his leadership, Jephthah responds: Does love so return after hatred, or does time conquer all things, for you have driven me out of my land and from the house of my father and now you have come to me when you are in distress? (39.4)

Jephthah is reluctant to bury the sins of the past. He was wronged, and he lets the people know it. But instead of repenting for their treatment of Jephthah, they offer a surprising rebuttal: If the God of our fathers, when we had sinned against him and he had delivered us up before our enemies and we were hard pressed by them, was not mindful of our sins but freed us, why do you, mortal man, want to remember the iniquities that happened to us in the time of our distress? (39.4)

Not only does ‘God … not hold the sins of the people against them’, but the people ‘presume upon that here and use it as an argument’.43 Moreover, Jephthah himself agrees with their premise that God is able to forgive past wrongs:

43.

Murphy, ‘Eternal Covenant’, p. 53.

66

This World and the World to Come

God can be not mindful of our sins, for he has the time and place where he as God may restrain himself out of his long-suffering; but I, a mortal man … where will I expel my wrath and the injury that you have done me? (39.4)

According to both the people and Jephthah, God is able to overlook past sins, even if humans are incapable of doing so. This is yet again reaffirmed toward the end of the dialogue, where Jephthah states, ‘Even if our sins be overabundant, still his mercy will fill the earth’ (39.6). Nowhere in Pseudo-Philo’s retelling of the Jephthah account does anyone repent from their sin, even though this is the only place in the book of Judges where repentance is explicit. Even more striking, though, is the persistent stress on God’s unconditional mercy toward Israel. This suggests that Pseudo-Philo has taken the dominant emphasis on God’s unconditional grace in Judges, which reflects his own theological outlook, and read it into the one potentially anomalous passage where repentance is present. 2.4.3 Summary of Deborah, Gideon, and Jephthah In his accounts of Deborah and Gideon, Pseudo-Philo has not interpreted these stories against the grain of a retributive theology apparent in Judges; rather, he has taken what is already inherent in Judges itself and either represented it accurately or made explicit what was only implicit in the biblical text. Pseudo-Philo is attracted to Judges not only because it focuses on charismatic leaders, but because it portrays a theology of sin and grace that corresponds to his own theological outlook. In the case of Jephthah, Pseudo-Philo perhaps has modified the account. In the biblical story, Israel does repent; in LAB, they do not. Yet in the Bible, it is not altogether clear that God honours their repentance. 3. Conclusion In this essay, I have argued that this emphasis on God’s irrevocable covenant with Israel underscores divine agency in salvation. Individual Israelites are encouraged to repent from sin and obey the Torah, but if they do not, God will save them nonetheless. We have seen that Pseudo-Philo downplays human agency since he undermines the necessity of repentance: human agency is not a precondition for future salvation. This does not preclude any Deuteronomic outlook; it only limits the Deuteronomic motif to this world and temporary punishment. As for Israel’s future destiny in the world to come, however, the ‘end lot of each one of them will be eternal life’ (LAB 23.13) ‘in the immortal dwelling place that is not subject to time’ (LAB 19.12). But what about those who commit radical apostasy? Is God’s gracious net cast so wide so as to embrace them in the life to come? As we have seen in the account of Kenaz, there were some who committed some very wicked sins (cannibalism, child sacrifice, idolatry, etc.; LAB 25.8-10), and a mere



The Hermeneutic of Grace

67

confession of those sins may lead to the possibility of a future resurrection, even though they will endure death by fire (25.7). In other instances, though, the future does not look so bright. In the account of Korah’s rebellion, the Israel apostates are not only swallowed up by the earth, but go all the way down to hell, their dwelling place of darkness and destruction (LAB 16.3). Pseudo-Philo’s treatment of Jair (LAB 38.1-4; cf. Judg. 10.3-6) understands him to be an apostate who leads the people astray. His final destiny is a dwelling place of fire (LAB 34.4; cf. 2 Bar. 44.15; 48.39, 43), most probably a reference to damnation in hell. Some passages, therefore, indicate that all (23.12ff) Israelites will be saved, while others (16.3; 38.1-4) seem to condemn wicked Israelites who commit apostasy. There may even be some in the middle, as it were, such as Gideon, who is not very righteous but may still anticipate a future eternal life after a period of post-mortem discipline (38.4). At the end of the day, PseudoPhilo does not seem to exhibit much consistency on the question, probably because it was not a question he was seeking to answer. Rather, he was trying to augment the fact that God’s covenant is irrevocable, even though the nation is, on the whole, wicked. But he does not parse out the secondary questions that may flow from this, such as the eternal destiny of the wicked Israelite who is part of this covenant. Nevertheless, we can still conclude that national obedience and repentance is not a prerequisite for God’s final act of salvation. Israel can be quite certain that they will be resurrected and live in the world to come, because God is faithful, even if they are not. Divine agency takes pride of place, therefore, in Pseudo-Philo’s soteriology.

Part II Apocalypses

Chapter 4

Deliverance and Justice: Soteriology in the Book of Daniel Lorenzo DiTommaso 1. The Book of Daniel The book of Daniel is written in two languages, Hebrew (1.1–2.4a; 8.1–12.13) and Aramaic (2.4b–7.28). Chapters 1–6 contain six court tales, which are narrated mainly in the third person. Chapters 7–12 contain four revelatory visions, recounted in the first person. The oldest manuscripts, which were discovered among the Dead Sea Scrolls, confirm the antiquity of the basic consonantal framework of the Masoretic text (MT) of Daniel, including its distinctive overlap of languages and literary genres.1 There are two ancient Greek versions of Daniel.2 The Old Greek (OG) version is the earliest, but was later supplanted in Greek Bibles by the 1. There are fragments from eight manuscript copies in total. Editions: D. Barthélemy, ‘71. Daniel’ and ‘72. Daniel’, Qumran Cave I (eds D. Barthélemy and J. T. Milik; DJD, I; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1955), pp. 150–2; M. Baillet, ‘7. Daniel’, in Les ‘petites grottes’ de Qumrân: exploration de la falaise, les grottes 2Q, 3Q, 5Q, 6Q, 7Q, à 10Q, le rouleau de cuivre (eds M. Baillet, et al.; DJD, 3; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1962), pp. 1, 114–16 + 2, pl. xxiii; and E. Ulrich, ‘112-116. 4QDana-e’, in Qumran Cave 4.XI: Psalms to Chronicles (eds E. Ulrich, et al.; DJD, 16; Oxford, Clarendon Press, 2000), pp. 239–89 + pls. xxix–xxxviii. See also A. Schmitt, ‘Die Danieltexte aus Qumran und der masoretische Text (M)’, in Nachdenken über Israel, Bibel und Theologie: Festschrift für Klaus-Dietrich Schunck zu seinem 65. Geburtstag (eds H. M. Niemann, et al.; BEATAJ, 37; Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 1994), pp. 279–97. The oldest Dead Sea copy, 4QDanc (4Q114), dates from the end of the second century bce, only a generation or two removed from the final redaction of the book. 4QDane (4Q116) likely contained only the ‘Prayer of Daniel’ of Dan. 9.4b–19 (Ulrich, ‘112-116. 4QDana-e’, p. 287). In view of its early Hasmonaean script and minor textual discrepancies against the MT, 4QDane might preserve a version of the Prayer predating its incorporation in Daniel 9. 2. The ‘Greek Additions’ were probably composed in Hebrew or Aramaic. None were found among the Dead Sea Scrolls, although 4Q551, which involves an unnamed judicial figure amid a court setting, might be related to Susanna. See further, A. A. Di Lella, ‘The Textual History of Septuagint-Daniel and Theodotion-Daniel’, in The Book of Daniel: Composition and Reception (eds J. J. Collins and P. W. Flint; VTSup, 83; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2001), pp. 586–607.

72

This World and the World to Come

Theodotion-version (q /). The texts of both Greek versions diverge at points from MT Daniel, notably in chapters 3–6, and from each other, notably in chapters 4–6. Both versions also admit writings that are not found in MT Daniel: the Prayer of Azariah and the Song of the Three Young Men, inserted between Dan. 3.23 and 3.24, and the tales of Susanna and of Bel and the Dragon, whose place in the versions varies somewhat according to the manuscripts. Not included in either MT or LXX Daniel, but involving figures or settings known from the book, are four fragmentary Aramaic writings that were also discovered among the Scrolls: 4QPseudo-Daniela-b (4Q243–244); 4QPseudo-Danielc (4Q245); 4QApocryphon of Daniel (4Q246), the socalled ‘Son of God’ text; and the Prayer of Nabonidus (4Q242), which is the earliest Jewish version of the story about the madness of the king that is preserved in three other forms in MT, OG, and q / Daniel 4.3 Critical scholarship long ago abandoned the view that the book of Daniel was composed by an eponymous author who recorded his experiences during the Babylonian Exile in the sixth century bce. Rather, the complex nature of Daniel and the evidence of the early Jewish Daniel literature suggest a more complicated history of composition involving different social settings and much later dates.4 The court tales of Daniel 1–6 are products of the Eastern Diaspora. They date from the late fourth or third century bce, although the stories behind Daniel 2 (the dream of the great statue) and 4 (the madness of the king) seem to have derived from even older, non-Jewish traditions.5 It is impossible to be clear on the details, but the first collection of Aramaic court tales likely consisted of early versions of Daniel 3–6, and perhaps Daniel 2. Daniel 1 was later prefixed to the collection, in its original Aramaic, in part to explain how the young Daniel came to Babylon. The revelatory visions of Daniel 7–12 on the other hand were composed in Judaea during the reign of Antiochus IV, who assumed the Seleucid throne in 175 bce. Daniel 7 was written in Aramaic before the desecration of the Temple in 167.6 The revelations of chapters 8, 9, and 10–12 were composed 3. Editions: J. J. Collins, ‘242. 4QPrayer of Nabonidus ar’, J. J. Collins and P. W. Flint, ‘243-245. 4Qpseudo-Daniela-c ar’, and É. Puech, ‘4QApocryphe de Daniel ar’, in Qumran Cave.4XVII: Parabiblical Texts, Part 3 (ed. J. C. VanderKam, consulting; DJD, 22; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996), pp. 83–94 + pl. vi, 95–164 + pls. vii–x, and 165–84, + pl. xi. See also P. W. Flint, ‘The Daniel Tradition at Qumran’, in The Book of Daniel: Composition and Reception (ed. J. J. Collins and P. W. Flint; VTSup, 83; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2001), pp. 329–67. The Aramaic Dead Sea text 4QFour Kingdoms ar (4Q552, 4Q553, and 4Q553a) contains an (angelic?) interpretation of a dream or vision of four trees that recalls the four-kingdom schema of Daniel 2 and 7. 4. The specific details of the formation of MT Daniel remain in dispute. I am in agreement with the stages of its composition history as they are outlined by J. J. Collins, Daniel: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), pp. 24–38. 5. There is a judicial figure named Dnil who appears in the Aqhat legend from Ugarit, while Ezekiel cites a Danel who is righteous (14.14, 20) and wise (28.3). 6. Dan. 8.11; 9.27; 11.31; 12.11.



Deliverance and Justice

73

over the next three years, each one updating its predecessors. The fact that they are written in Hebrew instead of Aramaic likely reflects the heightened nationalist sentiment of those turbulent years. At one point Daniel 1.1–2.4a was translated into Hebrew, perhaps to provide a Hebrew frame around the Aramaic chapters 2–7. The final redaction of Daniel and the addition of lastminute revisions to its timetable for salvation (12.11-12) occurred shortly before the rededication of the Temple by the Maccabees late in the year 164 bce,7 an event that the book does not mention. 2. The Soteriology of Daniel Salvation is a concept with a simple meaning but many applications. A basic definition is rescue from mortal peril,8 which less intensely may be construed as deliverance from hardship, captivity, or oppression. Related to this, although not precisely equivalent, is the idea of relief from impediments to well-being, resulting in a ‘restoration to wholeness’.9 Both senses are evident in the book of Daniel. The usual root in the Hebrew Bible to express the notion of ‘help’ and hence ‘save’ or ‘deliver’ is (#y. It most often occurs in the Psalms and the prophetic books.10 The LXX normally translates (#y with sw|&cw and its derivatives, words that acquired special significance in the New Testament.11 Other common roots are l)g (‘redeem’) and hdp (‘ransom’), while +lm (‘find safety’) and +lp (‘escape’) signify ‘deliver’ in some verbal forms. Such lexical diversity allows for a spectrum of meanings. YHWH rescues the patriarchs from threats to their persons, property, and progeny. He delivers his people from bondage in Egypt. He saves them from destruction at the Red Sea. Time and again he saves them from their enemies on and off the battlefield. God’s saving action can be conceived of as a future event, as in much of the prophetic literature. It can be envisioned existentially, as in many of the Psalms (62.2, 89.26, etc.). It can be seen as a redemptive act, or as one that reinstates a proper relationship with God.12 7. 1 Macc. 4.36-61; 2 Macc. 10.1-8. 8. Cf. C. Spicq, ‘sw|&cw (etc.)’, Lexique théologique du Nouveau Testament (Fribourg: Éditions Universitaires de Fribourg; Paris: Cerf, 21991), pp. 1481–95 (1481). 9. J. R. Middleton and M. J. Gorman, ‘Salvation’, The New Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, Volume 5 (gen. ed. K. D. Sakenfeld; Nashville: Abingdon, 2009), pp. 45–61 (45). 10. J. F. A. Sawyer, ‘(#y’, ThWAT, Band III (eds G. J. Botterweck and H. Ringgren; Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1982), cols 1035–59, and F. Stolz, ‘(#y’, ThWAT, Band I (eds E. Jenni and C. Westermann; München: C. Kaiser; Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 1984), cols 785–90. 11. W. Foerster and G. Fohrer, ‘sw|&cw, etc.’, ThWNT. Band VII (eds G. Kittel and G. Friedrich; Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1964), pp. 966–1023 (970–73). 12. Salvation in the Hebrew Bible also has secular permutations. For example, the king was expected to save those facing dire personal threat (cf. 2 Sam. 14.4; 2 Kgs 6.26), while the vocabulary of ‘safety’, ‘redemption’, ‘rescue’ and ‘deliverance’ is employed in a range of judicial and cultic contexts. However, none of these play a role in the book of Daniel.

74

This World and the World to Come

The soteriology of Daniel reflects the circumstances of its composition. Alle Traditionen erwachsen aus Ereignissen – ‘All traditions arise from events’.13 The court tales of chapters 1–6 present a Deuteronomic theology of history that promotes a doctrine of personal salvation which is contingent on covenant fidelity. Their chief function is to preserve Jewish identity in a foreign land, which they fulfil by dovetailing the exhortation to remain faithful to the law with the expectation of success in a Gentile milieu. Salvation is one expression of this function. The revelatory visions of chapters 7–12, composed several generations later and under radically different conditions, reject this view. They instead assume an apocalyptic theology of history, with its emphasis on corporate salvation and ultimate human destiny as the goal and scope of the divine plan. Their chief function is to describe the meaning and purpose of history,14 a task which serves multiple aims, not least of which is locating the time of the end in relation to the audience and thereby identifying when salvation will occur. In the visions there is no possibility of life under foreign rule, nor any prospect of deliverance within the pale of history. Although the soteriologies of both halves of the book radically differ, each develops from a conception of justice, which in the case of the revelatory visions so thoroughly informs and coördinates their underlying theology of history that it may be correctly understood as a theory of justice. 2.1. Salvation in the court tales Salvation in the court tales is contingent, reciprocal, personal, historical, and this-worldly. It is covenantal and reciprocal insofar that deliverance from the menace of death, as salvation is quintessentially expressed in the tales, is illustrated as a just reward for one’s fidelity to core obligations of Jewish law. It is personal in that its object is always an individual. There is a communal dimension to salvation in the tales, but this is exceptionally manifested in their intention to provide Diaspora Jews with exemplary models of appropriate behaviour in a Gentile setting, and even so its latitude remains restricted to individuals. Finally, salvation in the tales is envisioned as transpiring within the compass of one’s natural life on earth. With the exception of one late editorial addition (Dan. 2.28, 34, 44-45, see below), nowhere in the court tales do we encounter the implication of personal salvation transcending the boundaries of history or this plane of existence. Daniel 3 relates how Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, fellow-exiles with Daniel, defy King Nebuchadnezzar’s edict that all the inhabitants of his kingdom must prostrate themselves before a great golden statue upon hearing the signal. For their refusal to obey the royal decree – and thus 13. C. Westermann, Prophetische Heilsworte im Alten Testament (FRLANT, 145; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1987), p. 208. 14. See L. DiTommaso, ‘History and Apocalyptic Eschatology: A Reply to J. Y. Jindo’, VT 56 (2006), pp. 413–18, and M. E. Stone, New Perspectives on Ancient Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011), chapter 3.



Deliverance and Justice

75

break the prohibition against idolatry – the three young Jews are bound and cast into a blazing furnace. Miraculously, they remain unharmed amid the flames and the heat, and with them appears a fourth figure, one like a divine being (3.25, lit. Nyhl) rb), whom Nebuchadnezzar later calls an ‘angel’ (3.28, cf. OG 3.92, LXX 3.95). God saves the three youths because of their faithfulness, as the king himself confirms in his concluding doxology: Blessed be the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who has sent his angel and delivered his servants who trusted in him. They disobeyed the king’s command and yielded up their bodies rather than serve and worship any god except their own God. (3.28)15

Thereupon Nebuchadnezzar promotes Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego amid his officials in Babylon (3.30). God’s saving action is underscored in the ‘Song of the Three Young Men’, which as noted is extant only in the ancient Greek versions of Daniel: For he has rescued us from Hades and saved us from the power of death, and delivered us from the midst of the burning fiery furnace; from the midst of the fire he has delivered us. (NRSV 3.66 (LXX 3.88))

In chapter 6, Daniel, now one of the chief ministers of the kingdom, invokes the jealous enmity of the other officials. Hoping to destroy him, the ministers convince King Darius (who wrested the kingdom from Nebuchadnezzar’s son Belshazzar) to issue a decree: for 30 days no one can pray to any god or human other than to the king himself. Those who break the law will be cast into a den of lions. Daniel continues to pray thrice daily towards Jerusalem, a fact that his enemies report to Darius. The king must uphold his own law, as his officials remind him, and so Darius reluctantly orders Daniel thrown to the lions, with the invocation, ‘May your God, whom you faithfully serve, deliver you!’ (MT 6.17; NRSV 6.16). After a sleepless night, the king hurries to the lions’ den, worrying aloud, ‘O Daniel, servant of the living God, has your God whom you faithfully serve been able to deliver you from the lions?’ (MT 6.21; NRSV 6.20). And God did save Daniel, having sent an angel to shut the mouths of the great cats. Darius orders Daniel to be extracted from the den, and his accusers and their families to be cast down in his place, where they are devoured. The king then reiterates the point of the story in a doxology, ‘[God] delivers and rescues, he works signs and wonders in heaven and on earth; for he has saved Daniel from the power of the lions’ (MT 6.28; NSRV 6.27), which is followed by a note on how Daniel prospered thereafter.16 15. English translations of MT Daniel and the LXX ‘Greek Additions’ are drawn from the NRSV. 16. The motif of the lions’ den is repeated in the tale of Daniel and the Bel and the Dragon. The Babylonians compel Cyrus the King (so q /) to hand Daniel over to them after he discredits their worship of Bel and dispatches their snake-god. And so he is thrown into the lions’ den, this time for six days. Daniel survives his ordeal, this time assisted by

76

This World and the World to Come

The story of Susanna is not part of MT Daniel, and the chronicle of its composition and subsequent transmission remains imperfectly known. Still, one would be remiss in ignoring it altogether, since, as with Daniel 3 and 6, the theme of salvation from the impending threat of death provides its narrative structure. The beautiful Susanna, wife of Joakim, rejects the amorous advances of two elders. They falsely accuse her of adultery, and she is sentenced to death. Before she is executed, she cries out to a higher court for justice and a greater judge for salvation: O eternal God, you know what is secret and are aware of all things before they come to be; you know that these men have given false evidence against me. And now I am to die, though I have done none of the wicked things that they have charged against me! (42b-43)

The young Daniel appears, his ‘holy spirit’ having been stirred by God. Examining the elders separately, he disproves their allegation by demonstrating discrepancies in their accounts. The innocent Susanna is rescued from execution, while the elders are put to death ‘according to the law of Moses’ (62).17 Although it drives the narratives of chapters 3 and 6,18 and the story of Susanna, the theme of salvation is not the focus elsewhere in the court tales.19 Rather, it is only one expression of their chief function, which in its service also enlists the motif of trust in God, even under the gravest of situations, the conviction that God’s power extends over all kingdoms and every place, and the assurance that imbalances will be redressed, injustices punished, fidelity rewarded, and truth revealed. These elements of course are not unique to the court tales. But they are given their special coherence when arranged in a constellation which is only observed in the dramatic, serial presentation of all the tales as episodes in the life of Daniel the wise and his friends among the exiles in Babylon. They declare that balance and fairness remain overriding principles in the world. Salvation equates to justice. This carried a special significance for the Jews of the Diaspora. Far from home and in a land not their own, the tales assured them that God’s actions in history, Habakkuk the prophet, who with the help of an angel delivers food to the captive. After the ordeal, Cyrus proclaims, ‘You are great, O Lord, the God of Daniel, and there is no other besides you!’ (40), and orders Daniel’s enemies to be thrown to the lions, where they are devoured. 17. q / only. In the OG, the guilty elders are bound and cast into a ravine, whereupon an angel of the Lord throws fire down upon them. 18. As W. L. Humphreys observes, Daniel 3 and 6 are ‘tales of court conflict’, while Daniel 2, 4, and 5 are ‘tales of court contest’ – ‘A Life-Style for the Diaspora: A Study of the Tales of Esther and Daniel’, JBL 92 (1973), pp. 211–30. 19. There is no threat of mortal peril in Daniel 1, 4, or 5. In chapter 2 Daniel faces great personal threat, since the king has decreed that an account of his dream must precede its interpretation, under penalty of death (2.5). But although the threat is real, it is not the focus of the story. The chapter’s soteriological elements are late additions, and are discussed in §2.3, below.



Deliverance and Justice

77

exemplified by his relationship with Daniel, his friends, and their Gentile sovereigns (who in spite of their hubris are cast in a relatively positive light), explain the evidence of history in light of tradition. This sense of justice, if not its presuppositions, would be carried over to the revelatory visions. 2.2. Salvation in the revelatory visions Soteriology in the visions of Daniel is almost exclusively unconditional, unilateral, and corporate, and is eschatological and otherworldly. This conception of salvation is apocalyptic, the culmination of a long-standing divine plan for history. It transcends covenant fidelity and divine reciprocity. Even where the text anticipates a judgment of the dead (12.1-3), salvation is independent of one’s faithfulness to Jewish law. Its focus is on the deliverance of a group, not individuals. Most importantly, salvation in the visions is envisioned as occurring beyond the horizon of normal time and space. John J. Collins puts it well: in the apocalypses, ‘salvation is salvation out of this world’.20 Chapter 7, the only vision in the book written in Aramaic, is an apocalyptic reboot of the four-kingdom schema that is the subject of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream in Daniel 2. Like the revelation of Daniel 8, it contains a vision followed by its interpretation by an angelic figure. Its subject is the translatio imperii, or the transfer of the sovereign power (imperium) through a sequence of historical kingdoms, which in the vision are symbolised by a series of four hybrid beasts that emerge one after the other from the chaos-sea. Towards the end of the fourth kingdom, a final ruler appears and wages war on the holy ones.21 Salvation coincides with the end of the time of the oppression, and is conceived in judicial terms. As the heavenly interpreter explains to Daniel:

Then the court shall sit in judgment, and his dominion shall be taken away, to be consumed and totally destroyed. The kingship and dominion and the greatness of the kingdoms under the whole heaven shall be given to the people of the holy ones of the Most High; their kingdom shall be an everlasting kingdom, and all dominions shall serve and obey them. (7.26-27)

20. J. J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2nd edn, 1998), p. 221 (italics original). 21. The holy ones here are almost certainly angels, although some authorities understand them to represent the Jewish people. Whatever the case, one of the mysteries revealed by apocalyptic visions is that all creation is structured by a radical dualism, where the division between the two camps extends from the macrocosmic (angels and demons) through the mundane (good and bad humans and peoples) to the microcosmic (the good and evil inclination) planes. As goes the war in heaven, so too does the war on earth (cf. Dan. 10.13, 20-21).

78

This World and the World to Come

Daniel 8 updates the vision of chapter 7, but accords greater weight to the figures and events pertaining to the last days. Like the visions that follow, it was profoundly shaped by the desecration of the Temple and the abolition of the regular offering (8.11). Less judicial in tenor than Daniel 7, the vision of chapter 8 is more specific in its timetable. After ‘two thousand three hundred evenings and mornings’, it reveals ‘the sanctuary shall be restored to its rightful state’ (8.14). Daniel 9 is the pivotal chapter.22 Most authorities acknowledge the sharp distinction between the penitential prayer of 9.4b-19 and the apocalyptic theology of history that concludes the chapter and informs the other visions of the book.23 But there is less unanimity as to the prayer’s purpose. In my view, any satisfactory answer must accept two premises. First, Daniel 9 is a literary artefact that incorporates the prayer by design. As such, the purpose of the prayer is integral to the function of the chapter.24 Second, the Deuteronomic theology of the prayer is identical to that of the court tales in all major respects.25 The purpose of the prayer cannot be to introduce or merely reiterate a theology that already underwrites a major portion of the book of which it is part.26 22. The literature on Daniel 9 is extensive. See L. DiTommaso, ‘4QPseudo-Daniela-b (4Q243–4Q244) and the Book of Daniel’, DSD 12 (2005), pp. 101–33, and ‘The Development of Apocalyptic Historiography in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls’, forthcoming in The Dead Sea Scrolls at 60 (eds J. Duhaime, P. W. Flint, and K. Baek; SBLEJL), and the sources cited therein. The prayer likely predates Daniel 9 and was adapted to fit the purpose of chapter; see above, note 1, on 4QDane (4Q116). 23. See the discussion in Collins, Daniel, pp. 359–60. For a contrary view, see G. Boccaccini, ‘The Covenantal Theology of the Apocalyptic Book of Daniel’, in Enoch and Qumran Origins: New Light on a Forgotten Connection (ed. G. Boccaccini; Grand Rapids/ Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2005), pp. 39–44, and n.b. the reply by Collins, ‘Response: The Apocalyptic Worldview of Daniel’, op. cit., pp. 59–66 (60–1). 24. H. J. M. van Deventer argues that the prayer was a late addition to Daniel 9, a ‘turning back to an older theological tradition’ – ‘The End of the End, or, What Is the Deuteronomist (Still) Doing in Daniel?’ in Past, Present, and Future: The Deuteronomistic History and the Prophets (eds J. C. de Moor and H .F. van Rooy; OTS, 44; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2000), pp. 62–75. This thesis, which proceeds from a structuralist perspective, does not sufficiently explain why the covenantal theology of the prayer is unique to Daniel 9 among the visions, nor does it account for why it is so obviously rejected there. 25. A Deuteronomic theology of history is also reflected in the Aramaic Daniel text, 4Q243–244 (see above, §1), where it is integrated with major elements of apocalyptic historiography. On the one hand, 4Q243–244’s focus is on specific episodes where God responds to human action: the Tower of Babel (4Q244 8; 4Q243 9), the Exodus (4Q243 11 ii; 12), and the Exile (4Q243 13 + 4Q244 12). On the other hand, 4Q243–244 expresses the hope for God’s decisive action on Israel’s behalf, and contains a vision of woes and the future assembly of the elect, as well as language typical to apocalyptic historiography, although it lacks reference to a final judgment. In 4Q243–244, God controls history, but instead of a divine plan that manifests itself in the broad control of events, the focus of 4Q243–244 seems to be on God’s specific actions in history, the common element being human transgression against the divine. I argue elsewhere that 4Q243–244 is a product of the same era as Daniel 7 – ‘4QPseudo-Daniela-b (4Q243–4Q244)’. 26. This is the implication of the fine study of R. A. Werline, ‘Prayer, Politics, and Social Vision in Daniel 9’, in Seeking the Favor of God, Volume 2: The Development of



Deliverance and Justice

79

The text itself provides the most convincing explanation. The chapter opens with Daniel contemplating Jeremiah’s prophecy that the devastation of Jerusalem will endure for 70 years (Jer. 25.11-12; 29.10). Daniel prays to God, confessing the sins and shame of his fellow exiles and petitioning God for mercy. The language and theology of his prayer are wholly Deuteronomic. Daniel confesses that ‘All Israel has transgressed your law and turned aside, refusing to obey your voice’ (9.11). As a result, ‘this calamity has come upon us’ (9.13a). He pleads for God to heed his prayer and deliver his people from their desperate state despite their unrighteousness. Gabriel appears in response. The angel’s interpretation of the meaning of the prophecy, and by extension the understanding of God’s role in history, rejects the tenets of the Deuteronomic worldview. Instead, it restates the new, apocalyptic theology of history which is the subject of the first two visions of the book and which stipulates an alternate view of God’s historical relationship with his people, including their salvation. In spite of its obvious structural dissimilarities, Daniel 9 is thus functionally equivalent to the other visions of the book. Gabriel’s task is explicit: ‘Daniel,’ he says, ‘I have now come out to give you wisdom and understanding’ (9.22). Within the context of the apocalyptic worldview and through the device of angelic mediation, the visions of Daniel seek to explain the mystery of time. The final revelation of Daniel is also the longest, spanning chapters 10– 12. Its review of history is most detailed, with special attention accorded to the battles and high politics of the age. It does not contain a vision report per se, but is devoted almost entirely to the vision’s interpretation, supplied by an unnamed angel (possibly Gabriel, the angelus interpres of chapters 8 and 9). It also contains a genuine prophecy (11.40-45) that predicts – wrongly, as it turned out – the death of Antiochus IV. The vision culminates with a description of imminent salvation: (12.1) ‘At that time Michael, the great prince, the protector of your people shall arise. There shall be a time of anguish, such as never occurred since nations first came into existence. But at that time your people shall be delivered, everyone who is found written in the book. (2) Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt. (3) Those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever. (4) But you, Daniel, keep the words secret and the book sealed until the time of the end. Many will be running back and forth, and evil will increase’. Penitential Prayer in Second Temple Judaism (eds M. J. Boda, D. K. Falk, and W. J. Werline; SBLEJL, 22.2; Atlanta: SBL, 2006), pp. 17–32. But I am not so certain that the author of Daniel 9 could ‘hold both apocalyptic determinism and conditional covenant theology at the same time’, and ‘live with the dissonance’ (30–1). Werline argues that ancient religious practitioners could simultaneously hold several ideas whose seeming incompatibility might not live up to modern notions of coherency. This may or may not be true (it is a common argument as it applies to apocalyptic literature, and one which I find unconvincing), but it does not account for the fact that the book itself exhibits a coherent response in its rejection of the Deuteronomic perspective, as evidenced in Gabriel’s response to the prayer and in the apocalyptic historiography that thoroughly informs the other visions of the book.

80

This World and the World to Come

(5) Then I, Daniel, looked, and two others appeared, one standing on this bank of the stream and one on the other. (6) One of them said to the man clothed in linen, who was upstream, ‘How long shall it be until the end of these wonders?’ (7) The man clothed in linen, who was upstream, raised his right hand and his left hand by the one who lives forever that it would be for a time, two times, and half a time, and that when the shattering of the power of the holy people comes to an end, all these things would be accomplished. (8) I heard but could not understand; so I said, ‘My lord, what shall be the outcome of these things?’ (9) He said, ‘Go your way, Daniel, for the worlds are to remain secret and sealed until the time of the end. (10) Many shall be purified, cleansed, and refined, but the wicked shall continue to act wickedly. None of the wicked shall understand, but those who are wise shall understand. (11) From the time that the regular burnt offering shall be taken away and the abomination that desolates is set up, there shall be one thousand two hundred ninety days. (12) Happy are those who persevere and attain the thousand three hundred thirty-five days. (13) But you, go your way, and rest; you shall rise for your reward at the end of the days.’

Several issues engage our attention. Scope: The resurrection of the dead, the only unambiguous reference to resurrection in the Hebrew Bible,27 is restricted to the very good and the very bad.28 Although it is not national insofar as it does not anticipate the salvation of all Israel, the central struggle is framed in national terms, Seleucid versus Jew. In this it stands with the other visions of the book. A small yet crucial concern for individual salvation may be glimpsed at Dan. 11.35 and 12.3 – see §2.3, below. Daniel 12.13 is ambiguous: Daniel is guaranteed his ‘reward’, which implies one thing, or more accurately, his ‘lot’ or ‘destiny’ (lrg), which implies something else. Location: Daniel 12 does not specify the place of the resurrection or its aftermath.29 But the issue is not terribly important within the logic of the worldview. When the resurrection transpires, the wise (Mylk#mh, the maskilîm) will become ‘like the stars’ (12.3), which is to say angels. Whether the text sees this as transpiring on earth or elsewhere is less important than the basic otherworldliness of the event itself. The dissolution of the borders of time and space is a regular feature of apocalyptic eschatology – its axioms demand it, and resurrection is its parade example. Whether the end is envisioned as a process (‘realised eschatology’) or as a discrete event (as here in Daniel), old categories like ‘earth’, ‘history’ and ‘death’ become baseless as the boundaries that once defined them disintegrate. Schedule: Imminence and specificity are the hallmarks here. Daniel 12 stresses the precise time when 27. A good case could be made for Isa. 26.19 (although n.b. 26.14). But the vision of the ‘dry bones’ of Ezek. 37.1-14 refers to the revivification of corporate Israel, while Hos. 6.2 is clearly metaphorical. 28. See also J. J. Collins, Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls (London/New York: Routledge, 1997), pp. 112–13. 29. Collins argues that the passage ‘provides no indication that the resurrected life is located here on earth’ (Collins, Daniel, p. 392). According to S. Beyerle, Dan. 12.1-3 reveals a ‘heavenly salvation’ – ‘The Book of Daniel and Its Social Setting’, in The Book of Daniel: Composition and Reception (eds J. J. Collins and P. W. Flint; VTSup, 83; Leiden/ Boston: Brill, 2001), pp. 205–28 (221).



Deliverance and Justice

81

deliverance from the ‘time of anguish’ (12.1) will occur, to the extent that the passage, as brief as it is, offers no less than three timetables of approximately equivalent duration: 12.7 (cf. 7.25), 12.11, and 12.12. The soteriology of the visions of Daniel is apocalyptic, but in an idiosyncratic manner, in the same way that all apocalyptic writings to one degree or another are variants of a single worldview.30 As with the tales, the visions must be appreciated in their dynamic wholeness, a result of their intimate compositional relationship and the efforts of the final redactor of the book.31 Salvation in the visions also equates with justice, although more profoundly than in the court tales. Apocalypticism is a textbook example of what Amartya Sen terms ‘transcendent institutionalism’ or an approach to justice that concentrates on what it defines as perfect justice, and focuses more on ‘getting the institutions right [rather than] the actual societies that would ultimately emerge’.32 By virtue of its axioms and purposes,33 apocalypticism essentially proposes a comprehensive, comprehensible, and internally consistent theory of justice, whose principal motivation is theodicy. Theodicy is the mother of apocalypticism. It is not unique to apocalypticism, and informs rather than defines it, but its importance cannot be denied. 34 It is the ultimate source behind the questions about fairness and balance. Historiologic apocalypticism, 35 in its biblical 30. This is not an essentialist view of apocalypticism, but simply a statement of a taxonomical relationship: the worldview produces the literature, not the other way round. 31. If the distinctive element of apocalyptic eschatology is the ‘expectation of postmortem judgment of individuals’, by the strict application of the definition only the final vision contains such an eschatology – J. J. Collins, ‘Prophecy, Apocalypse and Eschatology: Reflections on the Proposals of Lester Grabbe’, in Knowing the End from the Beginning: The Prophetic, the Apocalyptic and Their Relationships (eds L. L. Grabbe and R. D. Haak; JSPSup, 46; London/New York, 2003), pp. 44–52 (49–50). 32. A. Sen, The Idea of Justice (Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of the Harvard University Press, 2009), pp. 4–5 and passim. 33. Apocalypticism asserts that ‘a transcendent reality, concealed from casual observation yet operative on a grand scale, defines and informs existence beyond human understanding and the normal pale of worldly experience. It reveals a cosmos that is structured by two forces, good and evil, which have been in conflict since the dawn of history. It discloses the necessity and imminence of the final resolution of the conflict at the end of time, and the truth about human destiny’ – L. DiTommaso, ‘The Apocalyptic Other’, in The Other in Second Temple Judaism: Essays in Honor of John J. Collins (eds D. C. Harlow, et al.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011), pp. 211–46 (221). 34. See, above all, P. Sacchi, L’Apocalittica giudaica e la sua storia (Brescia: Paideia, 1990). 35. Apocalypticism has two main modes of expression: historiologic and sapiential. Sapiential apocalypticism in the early Jewish literature includes descriptions of celestial palaces and geographies of distant places, data about the nature and courses of the heavenly bodies, and the precepts by which life ought to be lived. Examples from later periods and other traditions further expand the category. Broadly speaking, the two modes reflect the extent of the claims of the apocalyptic worldview along the axes of time (historiologic) and space (sapiential). With respect to the literary genre, they find their similarly broad reflection in the two main types of apocalypses, ‘historical’ and ‘otherworldly’. With respect

82

This World and the World to Come

form,36 which is articulated through a distinctive theology of history, seeks to explain the meaning and purpose of history with reference to the goodness of God and the evidence for the existence of evil in the world. This first function enables all the other purposes, including consolation and exhortation, which are in turn oriented by the expectation of salvation and the teleology of the historiography that freights it. In other words, the goal of history is salvation, which represents the answer to all the questions about justice and theodicy. Salvation in the visions of Daniel proposes rescue from sin and evil, deliverance from existential purposelessness, and liberation from death itself.37 The epistemology underlining this theory of justice is rarely delineated in the literature, since apocalypses are not systematic theology. But it is evident in the more sophisticated examples of the genre such as Daniel, particularly in chapter 9, and is quite clearly worked out in 4 Ezra. 3. Synthesis The Deuteronomic claims of the court tales of Daniel are fundamentally incompatible with the apocalyptic worldview of its revelatory visions. Yet their soteriologies complement each other at the level in which they appear in the book. The discrepancies were resolved by the presence of natural correlations between the tales and the visions, which initially permitted revelations attributed to Daniel the seer to be composed and appended to a collection of older legends associated with Daniel the wise, and also by the later editorial elaboration of these correlations.38 Despite its aggregate nature and the deep ideological divisions between its halves, which its final redaction could not entirely surmount, Daniel is one book, unified in part by a horizon of salvation that extends from this life to life eternal, in hoc saeculo et in futuro – ‘in this world and the next’. to the origins and development of the worldview, we might speak of the eschatologization of history and wisdom. 36. This term covers more than the biblical apocalypses. The other form is secular apocalypticism. It is equally concerned with salvation, but uses a fresh set of variables to express this. 37. For these categories I am indebted to W. G. Oxtoby, ‘Reflections on the Idea of Salvation’, in Man and His Salvation: Studies in Memory of S. G. F. Brandon (eds E. J. Sharpe and J. R. Hinnells; Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1974), pp. 16–37 (26–7). 38. It is well-established that the court tales were reformulated in light of the revelatory visions and the historical circumstances that led to their composition. See J. Goldingay, ‘The Stories in Daniel: A Narrative Politics’, JSOT 37 (1987), pp. 99–116; L. M. Wills, The Jew in the Court of the Foreign King: Ancient Jewish Court Legends (HDR, 26; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990); D. Nolan Fewell, Circle of Sovereignty: Plotting Politics in the Book of Daniel (Nashville: Abingdon, 1991); and M. A. Sweeney, ‘The End of Eschatology in Daniel: Theological and Socio-Political Ramifications of the Changing Contexts of Interpretation’, BibInt 9 (2001), pp. 123–39 (although I cannot agree with its thesis).



Deliverance and Justice

83

The concept of exile plays a significant role in mediating the soteriology of the overall book. Regardless of their actual dates of composition, both halves of Daniel are set during the Babylonian Exile. The setting allowed the court tales to serve as exemplars for Diaspora Jews; as noted, Daniel 3 and 6 utilize the motif of rescue from mortal peril to fulfil this function. The exile also had profound implications for the soteriology of the revelatory visions. As Michael Knibb first observed, much of Jewish apocalyptic literature, including the visions (and in particular Daniel 9), shared the view that ‘Israel remained in a state of exile long after the sixth century, and that the exile would only be brought to an end when God intervened in this world order to establish his rule’.39 The expectation of salvation in the visions thus resolved itself along three avenues whose starting-point was a sense of exile: i) the fictional setting, involving rescue from exile in Babylon; ii) the historical situation; involving liberation from Seleucid tyranny and an end to exile from the sanctuary, and iii) the apocalyptic framework, involving deliverance from exile in this transitory and imperfect earthly existence. Although they evoke different images, all three expectations reinforce each other and evoke the motif of return and a restoration to wholeness. Equally essential to both halves of Daniel is the conviction that God can be relied on to rescue his people in their distress. But it is God alone who saves, through his angels. Although the role of heavenly figures in the tales differs from that in the visions, in both cases they essentially perform as vectors of salvation. In Daniel 3 it is an angel who stands with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and preserves them from the heat and the flames of the fiery furnace. In Daniel 6 it is an angel who descends into the den and shuts the mouths of the hungry lions.40 The salvational role of angelic figures in the visions is no less vital. In the apocalyptic way of thinking, humans are constitutionally unable to comprehend the true nature of space and time, and thus the purpose of God as revealed in them. The cryptic language and bizarre imagery of the visions of Daniel and the other classic Jewish apocalypses of antiquity represent the literary expression of this existential dilemma. Angelic interpretation thus spans the epistemological bridge between the eternal transcendent reality and the transitory everyday world. Without this bridge,41 there can be no knowledge, no understanding of God’s plan for his people or for their salvation. 39. M. A. Knibb, ‘The Exile in the Literature of the Intertestamental Period’, HeyJ 17 (1976), pp. 253–72 (272). His thesis has been refined by J. C. VanderKam, ‘Exile in Jewish Apocalyptic Literature’, in Exile: Old Testament, Jewish, and Christian Conceptions (ed. J. M. Scott; JSJSup, 56; Leiden: Brill, 1997), pp. 89–109. 40. In the story of Susanna it is a holy spirit that moves the young Daniel to take up the case of a woman falsely accused. 41. Other texts employ alternate methods by which humans gain a partial understanding of the transcendent reality. These include pneumatic phenomena (the Holy Spirit), the inspired interpretation of Scripture, and tablets which either are heavenly in origin or have been bequeathed to humanity from an earlier age (Jub. 3.10, 31, 4.5; 1QH 9.21-24, etc.). On tablets, see R. A. Kraft, ‘Scripture and Canon in Jewish Apocrypha and

84

This World and the World to Come

To hold that God alone saves is also to recognise that neither Daniel and his friends (in the court tales) nor the maskilîm and those whom they instruct (in the revelatory visions) are active participants in their own salvation. True, salvation in chapters 3 and 6 is linked to the piety of Daniel and his comrades. But this is not the same thing as saying that, in the time of acute distress, they take matters into their own hands. They trust that God will save them, and he does.42 In the visions, this attitude reveals itself in the quietism of the maskilîm, and in their insistence that the resolution to their earthly situation is eschatological, the province and prerogative of God.43 Antiochus IV will be broken soon, but ‘not by human hands’ (8.25). The identical claim appears in chapter 2. The stone that shatters the giant statue and draws the curtain on the age of the kingdoms of earth will be hewn from the mountain ‘not by human hands’ (2.34, 45a). This late redaction of the interpretation of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream, which unmistakeably displays the influence of the eschatological perspective of Daniel 7, added a suprahistorical dimension to its sequence of world-empires, and a soteriological element to its message.44 Salvation is thus understood in Daniel as a historical process. The book is embedded in history, not only by virtue of its exilic setting, but also through editorial additions such as the chronological markers that preface each of its tales and visions. We have seen, too, how each part of the book displays an intimate relationship between history and justice. There is also a memorial aspect to the two theologies of history that enhances the way their soteriologies complement each other. God’s saving acts on behalf of individuals stand as historical monuments for the audience of the court tales. For the audience of the visions, the apocalyptic reviews of history, which by virtue of their fictional setting and pseudonymous attribution to Pseudepigrapha’, in Hebrew Bible/Old Testament: The History of Its Interpretation. I, 1: From the Beginnings to the Middle Ages (Until 1300) (ed. M. Sæbø; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1996), pp. 199–217 (205–9), and A. A. Orlov, From Apocalypticism to Merkabah Mysticism: Studies in the Slavonic Pseudepigrapha (JSJSup, 114; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2007), pp. 109–31. 42. An analogue to this view will be found in Daniel 4. Nebuchadnezzar rules a mighty empire. His decrees are potent and wide-ranging. He makes decisions, which have broadcast ramifications, and can change his mind in response to new information. Unlike the Pharaoh of the Joseph story, the figure of King Nebuchadnezzar exercises free will. But power and authority ultimately derive from God alone, which is the lesson he learns in this chapter. 43. The theme of the sovereignty of God is explored in C. L. Seow, ‘The Rule of God in the Book of Daniel’, in David and Zion. Biblical Studies in Honor of J.J.M. Roberts (eds B. F. Baato and K. L. Roberts; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2004), pp. 219–46. 44. Cf. Dan. 2.28, 34, and 44-45. The soteriological material in Daniel 2 must be late additions, since it is in diametric opposition with the tenor and function of the rest of the chapter and the other court tales. A fuller version of this proposition will be found in R. G. Kratz, Translatio imperii: Untersuchungen zu den aramäischen Danielzählungen und ihrem theologiegeschichtlichen Umfeld (WMANT, 63; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1991).



Deliverance and Justice

85

Daniel are couched as future prediction, serve as guarantees that the divine plan culminating in salvation remains operational. Daniel 9 settled the matter of the competing theologies of history. But the problem of free will, to which any apocalyptic historiography must respond (although few actually did, or still do), could not be resolved so easily. Not only does free will underwrite the court tales that constitute the first half of the book, but any sophisticated notion of justice finds it impossible to exclude the elements of individual choice and personal responsibility entirely. It is often held, for good reason, that apocalyptic determinism precludes free will, as if they are polar opposites. But the real issue is the role and degree of free will within any system. Most apocalyptic texts contain an inherent moral component that declares itself in the choice to persist in evil or persevere in the good.45 What the worldview restricts by virtue of its axioms is the range of these expressions. Second Baruch, for example, attempts to synchronise covenantal nomism with an apocalyptic theology of history, albeit with rigid controls. Apocalypticism admits free will, but only so much and under multiple strictures. One such expression occurs in chapter 12 and in particular its view of resurrection.46 It represents an attempt to reconcile the determinism of the apocalyptic worldview with freedom of choice, perhaps in light of the martyrdoms of the Maccabean revolt, of which the maskilîm were certainly aware (11.33-35). On the one hand, the message that God will rescue those who remained faithful to the Law, even in times of mortal peril, could no longer stand unchallenged in light of those who had perished while maintaining Jewish identity in the struggle against Antiochus and his allies. The expectation of post-mortem resurrection is not the only response to martyrdom and imperial oppression, but it is a logical one, particularly in its attempt to answer questions of theodicy that such situations typically prompt. On the other hand, certain statements suggest an interest in individual salvation and by implication free will. Daniel 12.3 promises everlasting life to the maskilîm, ‘who lead many to righteousness’, more precisely, ‘those who turn the many to righteousness’ (Mybrh yqydcm). We are told that the names of the saved are already ‘written in the book’ (12.1), and ‘the wicked shall continue to act wickedly’ (12.10). But a different dynamic seems to be operational in 12.3. Are the wise and those whom they turn to righteousness mere ciphers? Perhaps instead there is a measure of personal choice on the part of individuals of both groups, and all the more so since ‘the many’ migrate from one state to another. Consider, too, the assertion that ‘some of 45. B. McGinn, ‘Introduction: Apocalyptic Spirituality’, in Apocalyptic Spirituality: Treatises and Letters of Lactantius, Adso of Montier-en-Der, Joachim of Fiore, the Franciscan Spirituals, Savonarola (The Classics of Western Spirituality; New York: Paulist Press, 1979), pp. 1–16 (12). 46. On the origin and early development of the idea of resurrection, including Daniel 12, see G. W. E. Nickelsburg, Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal Life in Intertestamental Judaism and Early Christianity (HTS, 56; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2006).

86

This World and the World to Come

the wise shall fall, so that they may be refined, purified, and cleansed, until the time of the end’ (11.35).47 This indicates a clear interest in individual salvation, which while distinct from the prospect of national salvation is not necessary opposed to it, as Collins rightly observes.48 Again a different dynamic seems to be at work.49 The martyrs’ deaths in the present have an effect on their lives in the future. It is too much to say that such statements balance the soteriologies of the court tales and the revelatory visions. The visions are apocalyptic, and their theology of history dominates the book. Still, for its audience, the final form of Daniel deftly manages to coordinate the disparate notions of salvation and justice in the court tales and the revelatory visions so as to reflect one’s journey along the path of life in this world and in the next.

47. Literally ‘made white’; cf. Dan. 7.9; 12.10a; 1 Enoch 85–90 passim; Rev. 3.4-5; 7.13-14, etc. 48. Collins, Daniel, p. 386. 49. The causative thrust of the passage is brought out by the presence of the Hebrew infinitives.

Chapter 5

On a Wing and a Prayer: The Soteriology of the Apocalypse of Abraham John C. Poirier 1. Introduction The Apocalypse of Abraham is a fascinating bridge between ancient Jewish apocalyptic and early Jewish mystical writings.1 These worlds are not so different – a broad brush could paint them both – and the contribution of apocalyptic thought to the Jewish mystical tradition is easy to discern. One might even say that a text spanning these two worlds is somewhat to be expected. The fascination that many readers have found with this writing, however, extends beyond the light it sheds on a movement. The text is interesting enough on its own terms, and it should not be read as if its voice were supplied from somewhere offstage. The Apocalypse of Abraham is extant only in six Slavonic manuscripts, its existence in that language apparently owing to its popularity in certain circles in the eleventh or twelfth century.2 The text almost certainly originated in Hebrew, but it clearly also went through a Greek stage.3 The work’s original date of composition can hardly be much later than 80–100 years after the destruction of the Temple (in 70 ce), which is mentioned in 27.3-6.4 It has been 1. On the mystical features of the Apocalypse of Abraham, see the studies cited in Andrei A. Orlov, ‘Praxis of the Voice: The Divine Name Traditions in the Apocalypse of Abraham’, JBL 127 (2008), pp. 53–70 (53 n. 1). 2. Émile Turdeanu dates the Apocalypse of Abraham’s translation into Slavonic to the twelfth or thirteenth century (Apocryphes Slaves et Roumains de l’Ancien Testament (SVTP, 5; Leiden: Brill, 1981), p. 181), while Ryszard Rubinkiewicz dates it to the eleventh or twelfth century (‘Apocalypse of Abraham’, in OTP, pp. 1.681–705 (682–3)). 3. The latest argument for a Semitic-language original is found in Alexander Kulik, ‘The Gods of Nahor: A Note on the Pantheon of the Apocalypse of Abraham’, JJS 54 (2003), pp. 228–32. 4. See G. H. Box and J. I. Landsman, The Apocalypse of Abraham: Edited, with a Translation from the Slavonic Text and Notes (TED, 1.10; London: Macmillan, 1918) pp. xv–xix; Belkis Philonenko-Sayar and Marc Philonenko, L’Apocalypse d’Abraham: Introduction, texte slave, traduction et notes (Sem, 31; Paris: Adrien Maissonneuve, 1981) pp. 34–5; Rubinkiewicz, ‘Apocalypse of Abraham’, p. 683; idem, L’Apocalypse d’Abraham

88

This World and the World to Come

argued that the work must have been written before the end of the Bar Kokhba revolt, as we otherwise should find an allusion to the crisis that ensued after that debacle.5 It is possible, however, that the Bar Kokhba revolt is implied in the general remarks about the post-Destruction situation in 27.10–28.5. The final chapter of the work refers to God as a judge of the nation that enslaved Abraham’s children, which might be an allusion to the oppression of Jews in Roman Egypt in the early part of the second century ce.6 2. Abraham’s sacrifice as preparation for ascent To speak in terms of Abraham’s preparation for the events that befall him is not to say that Abraham’s ascent is effected on the basis of his own righteousness, ritual scrupulousness, or ascetic regimen. Abraham’s ascent is more likely tied to his election – after all, he calls himself ‘the chosen one’ in 20.7 (see 14.3).7 The relationship between Abraham’s election and his righteousness as a committed seeker of the true God is not clear, and it is likely that the problem of that relationship was not keenly felt in texts from that era. Given that the text is about Abraham, it is hardly surprising that election should play a prominent role, and yet it would be wrong to suppose that his status as elect necessarily implies that he had little to do with God’s choosing him.8 To the contrary, Abraham’s election is inseparable from his acting uprightly before God, especially with regard to his actions against his father’s idol-selling business. (‘Works righteousness’ and election are not the mutually exclusive concepts that Christian theologians have often supposed.)9 Terah’s idolatry is the foil against which Abraham’s righteousness is defined, and his fiery destruction is a purposeful contrast to Abraham’s status as God’s ‘friend’. The fiery judgment against Terah, in fact, probably

en vieux slave: Édition critique du texte, introduction, traduction et commentaire (Z´ródła i monografie, 129; Lublin: Société des Lettres et des Sciences de l’Université Catholique de Lublin, 1987) pp. 70–3. 5. Torleif Elgvin, ‘Jewish Christian Editing of the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha’, in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (eds Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2007), pp. 278–304 (302 n. 81). 6. See Joseph Mélèze Modrzejewski, The Jews of Egypt: From Rameses II to Emperor Hadrian (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997). 7. ‘Chosen one’ apparently is not a technical term, as it is applied in 31.1 to the angel of the eschatological ingathering. See Richard A. Horsley and Jonathan A. Draper, Whoever Hears You Hears Me: Prophets, Performance, and Tradition in Q (Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, 1999), p. 118. 8. See John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to the Jewish Matrix of Christianity (New York: Crossroad, 1992), p. 185. The election of Israel (if implied by the election of Abraham) would seem to be unconditional. 9. This false antithesis has wreaked havoc in the study of ancient Judaism, esp. when that study has been conducted from the perspective of NT studies. See Hans Conzelmann, ‘xa&rij ktl.’, TDNT 9.387–415 (387).



On a Wing and a Prayer

89

functions literarily as a foil for Abraham’s protection from the fiery regions during his heavenly ascent. In ch. 10, Abraham meets the great angel Yahoel, who introduces himself as ‘the one who ordered your father’s house to be burned with him’ (10.1213). Azazel (not Terah) is the main antagonist in this text. According to Apoc. Abr. 22.5, Abraham’s progeny is ‘set apart for [God] of the people with Azazel’. Yahoel tells Azazel that his heritage ‘is over those who are with you, with the stars and with the men born by the clouds, whose portion you are’ (14.6-7). The placing of the stars under Azazel’s control might refer to the idea of the nations being subject to astrological fates, while Israel is preserved from those fates. The idea that the nations were in thrall to the stars, while Israel was free from their influence, appears in rabbinic writings (see b. Šabb. 156a–b; Gen. Rab. 44.12 (see below)).10 This also fits well with Yahoel’s command to Abraham (in the succeeding lines) not to answer Azazel. It is as if Yahoel is telling Abraham (and his progeny) not to consult the night sky, lest they become subject to it, and thereby forfeit their election.11 Given that God deals the nations a losing hand, it seems unfair that God would wait for them to come to him, as he claims to do in 31.6. As Terence Donaldson notes, ‘the waiting is futile’.12 (But see below.) The Apocalypse of Abraham presents the occasion of Abraham’s sacrifice in Gen. 15.8-17 as the venue for something scarcely hinted at in the biblical text: Abraham’s ascent to the highest heaven.13 The apocalyptic flavour of the work really begins to come through in ch. 9, several chapters before the ascent begins.14 God orders Abraham to sacrifice on Mount Horeb,

10. See the discussion in Ludwig Wächter, ‘Astrologie und Schicksalsglaube im rabbinischen Judentum’, Kairos 11 (1969), pp. 181–200 (189–92); M. R. Lehmann, ‘New Light on Astrology in Qumran and the Talmud’, RevQ 8 (1975), pp. 599–602; Lester Ness, Written in the Stars: Ancient Zodiac Mosaics (Marco Polo Monographs, 1; Warren Center, PA: Shangri-La, 1999) pp. 152–3. 11. Presumably, they would become part of ‘the generations of men who live impiously’ (13.10 (OTP 1.695)). 12. Terence L. Donaldson, Judaism and the Gentiles: Jewish Patterns of Universalism (to 135 CE) (Waco: Baylor University Press, 2007) p. 683. 13. See Christopher T. Begg, ‘Rereadings of the ‘Animal Rite’ of Genesis 15 in Early Jewish Narratives’, CBQ 50 (1988), pp. 36–46. On the ‘highest heaven’, see John C. Poirier, ‘The Ouranology of the Apocalypse of Abraham’, JSJ 35 (2004), pp. 391–408. 14. The first third of the work, which presents an early telling of the legend of Abraham’s fight against his father’s idol-selling business, does not exactly fit the apocalyptic genre, yet it is in keeping with apocalyptic to encounter such a ‘mixed style’ (Bernd Ulrich Schipper, ‘“Apokalyptik”, “Messianismus”, “Prophetie” – Eine Begriffsbestimmung’, in Apokalyptik und Ägypten: Eine kritische Analyse der relevanten Texte aus dem griechischrömischen Ägypten (eds A. Blasius and B. U. Schipper; OLA, 107; Leuven: Peeters, 2002) pp. 21–40 (26)). This part of the work reinforces the moral and religious rectitude of Abraham in a way that prepares for his ascent to heaven later in the work, and it is clear that the writer of the rest of the work had this episode in view (cf. 10.23-24; 25.1; 26.3-5). See Belkis Philonenko-Sayar and Marc Philonenko, Die Apokalypse Abrahams (JSHRZ, 5.5; Gutersloh: Mohn, 1982), p. 417.

90

This World and the World to Come

after 40 days’ preparation, and tells him that a revelation will follow. At the designated time, God sends Yahoel (whose name ‘is like unto that of God’) to instruct Abraham on performing the sacrifice. All this, of course, is a fanciful filling out of the minimal details found in the biblical account of Abraham’s sacrifice. In place of Abraham’s chasing the unclean birds away from his sacrifice (Gen. 15.11), the Apocalypse of Abraham tells us that Azazel, appearing to Abraham in the form of an unclean bird, tries to talk him into deserting his sacrifice. Ever the model of obedient servitude,15 Abraham does not heed Azazel’s words – and Yahoel puts Azazel to flight. As a result of Abraham’s and/or Yahoel’s actions, Abraham is awarded the heavenly garments that Azazel forfeited. The rest of the work, beginning with ch. 15, details Abraham’s ascent, which begins on the wing of one of the sacrificial birds. Of particular note, for our purposes, are the secrets revealed to Abraham. Beginning in ch. 19, God shows Abraham all the wonders of heaven, including scenes from the remote past (viz. the Garden of Eden), as well as scenes from Abraham’s and the reader’s future. Abraham is shown the deplorable state of his progeny, represented in a scene of boys being slaughtered out of devotion to idols. God finally shows Abraham the events of the last days, filled with plagues, trumpets, judgment, etc. 3. Soteriology in the Apocalypse of Abraham Soteriology cannot simply be read off the page of the Apocalypse of Abraham as readily as with some other works.16 The work’s soteriology, in fact, is somewhat sketchy. Abraham’s ascent in the Apocalypse of Abraham appears to happen strictly for the sake of showing him things that will befall both his progeny and those who afflict them. Whether the ascent is soteriological in any sense (directly or indirectly) is not clear, although soteriological notions often accompany heavenly ascents in Jewish and Christian texts. (Many students of apocalyptic ascent texts would say that the ascent is a soteriological end in itself.) Although the text’s soteriological aspect consists 15. Abraham’s response to God in Genesis – ‘Here I am’ – becomes a virtual tagline in the Apocalypse of Abraham (spoken at first to Terah, but then to God (see 1.7; 5.2; 8.2; 9.2; 11.4; 12.7; 14.1, 9; 19.2; 20.2)), serving to highlight Abraham’s obedience. 16. As E. P. Sanders notes, ‘Judaism was not primarily a religion of individual salvation’ (Judaism: Practice and Belief 63 BCE – 66 CE (London: SCM, 1992), p. 279). On salvation in post-biblical Judaism, see Dan Cohn-Sherbok, ‘Salvation in Jewish Thought’, in The Biblical World (ed. John Barton; 2 vols; London: Routledge, 2002), pp. 2.287–316. CohnSherbok writes that ‘[i]n the Hebrew Bible, the Apocrypha and the Pseudepigrapha, the salvation of the Jewish nation is understood in terms of Messianic deliverance’ (‘Salvation in Jewish Thought’, p. 287). If that is so, then we should not expect to find salvation in an apparently messiah-less text like the Apocalypse of Abraham. But this might be treating the term ‘salvation’ too much in literal terms, as ‘saving’ from something, viz. as a rescue of sorts. We need not construe ‘salvation’ so narrowly, and we need not assume that rescues must always be the work of a messianic figure – even if we construe that model broadly.



On a Wing and a Prayer

91

of more than just spillage from the author’s outlook, the resulting picture is hardly as clear, complete, or unequivocal as we might have hoped. One of the most important aspects of soteriology in the text has to do with the way Abraham’s place in the economy of salvation is defined over against Azazel’s personal history. In the Hebrew Bible, we never really meet Azazel – a desert-dwelling demon (or perhaps not)17 and the designated recipient of the sin-laden scapegoat from the priestly ritual. In the Apocalypse of Abraham, however, Azazel has an active role, tempting Abraham to relent from God’s instructions. His narrative role as a tempter, in fact, is remarkably similar to Satan’s role as tempter in the wilderness in the synoptic gospels. For our purposes, the more significant parallels are not those between the tempter in the gospels and the tempter in the pseudepigraphon, however, but rather are internal to the pseudepigraphon – viz. they are found between the Azazel story in ch. 13 and the insights that Abraham is later given about the sin in the Garden (in 21.8–23.14). As we saw above, Azazel (in the form of the unclean bird) tried to persuade Abraham to quit sacrificing to God before his ascent can begin: ‘What are you doing, Abraham, on the holy heights where no one eats or drinks, nor is there upon them food for men. But these all will be consumed by fire and they will burn you up. Leave the man who is with you and flee! For if you ascend to the height, they will destroy you’ (13.4-6).18 As David Halperin notes, ‘If Azazel can persuade Abraham not to make his ascent, he will perhaps be able to keep his own privileged status.’19 Yahoel’s words of rebuke (13.7-8) are significant for our study: ‘Shame on you, Azazel! For Abraham’s portion is in heaven, and yours is on the earth, for you have selected earth’.20 Yahoel seems to be saying that Azazel’s power to tempt extends only to ‘the generations of men who live impiously’ (13.10). Abraham and the righteous lie outside Azazel’s power. (We are not explicitly told that Abraham was psychologically or morally undisposed to listen to Azazel, but his reaction to Azazel’s advance may suggest as much.)21 Chapters 21–3 fill out this scheme:

17. Bernd Janowski argues that Azazel was not regarded as a demon until the postexilic period, and that ‘[t]he process of the demonization of Azazel was intensively pursued in early Judaism under the influence of dualistic tendencies’ – naming our text, together with 1 Enoch, as primary evidence (‘Azazel’, in Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible (eds Karel van der Toorn, Bob Becking, and Pieter W. van der Horst; Leiden: Brill, 1995) cols 240–8 (245–6)). 18. See David Goodman, ‘Do Angels Eat?’ JJS 37 (1986), pp. 160–75 (163). 19. David Halperin, The Faces of the Chariot: Early Jewish Responses to Ezekiel’s Vision (TSAJ, 16; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1988), p. 111. 20. On the ‘eschatological lots’, see Andrei A. Orlov, ‘Eschatological Yom Kippur in the Apocalypse of Abraham: Part I. The Scapegoat Ritual’, in Symbola Caelestis: Le symbolisme liturgique et paraliturgique dans le monde chrétien (eds Andrei Orlov and Basil Lourié; Scrinium, 5; Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias, 2009), pp. 24–9. I wish to thank Dr Orlov for sending me a copy of his article. 21. In ch. 23, God presents an account of the sin in the Garden. Abraham is shown a scene (as if projected on the expanse below him) of Adam and Eve as two gigantic figures

92

This World and the World to Come

there are basically two races on earth – those who belong to Azazel (the unrighteous), and those set apart (the righteous). Abraham is a figurehead (or perhaps something more?) of the latter.22 The reader might notice in all this some similarity to the ‘first Adam’ ‘second (or ‘last’) Adam’ scheme found in Paul’s letters. There is no denying a basic similarity, but we must be careful not to impose ideas on the Apocalypse of Abraham that are not actually found there. In language expanding toward the NT idiom, one could almost say that Abraham functions in the Apocalypse of Abraham as a ‘second Adam’. Just like Jesus in the gospels, he faces the tempter at the outset of his mission and defeats him both neatly and finally (as far as direct dealings are concerned), and, not unlike Christ in Romans 5 and 1 Corinthians 15, he functions as a sort of head over the race of the righteous. I have called this ‘expanding’ language, for such it is, but it appears that the basic scheme (more or less) really obtains in the Apocalypse of Abraham. There is an obvious point, however, at which the comparison between Christ as (explicit) ‘second Adam’ and Abraham as (implicit) ‘second Adam’ breaks down: the ‘second Adam’ of which Paul writes fulfils a soteriological role bearing little resemblance to anything that Abraham does in the Apocalypse of Abraham. At first, Apoc. Abr. 13 appears to say that Abraham has gained a heavenly inheritance, and that he has done so at the expense of Azazel’s high station. This, in fact, is how most scholars read this chapter. Stephen J. Bedard, for example, compares Apoc. Abr. 13 with the sort of ‘reversal of fortune’ that we find in the Enochic writings, ‘with the fallen angels (Watchers) losing their role as astral divinities and the righteous being lifted up to take their place’.23 The more immediate purpose (and effect) of Abraham’s exchange of garments with Azazel, however, may be more subtle than this. Commenting in lustful embrace, being fed grapes from a tree by Azazel, who appears this time in the form of a 12-winged dragon with human hands and feet. God describes Azazel as ‘the impiety of [the couple’s] behaviour unto perdition’, which suggests that Azazel is the force of temptation. The language of theodicy is always delicate, of course, and little more comes through than the idea that both the couple and Azazel are somehow responsible for the sin in the Garden. The grapes are the couple’s ‘thought on earth’ – the thoughts apparently associated with their embrace. In this, we seem to be in contact with the sort of thinking that would later become ascendent in the mainstream of Western Christianity, viz. that the sin in the Garden was either connected with or the result of the couple’s sexual desire for each other. In 23.14, Abraham refers to this desire as ‘evil … in the heart of man’. The text thus seems to equate being filled with lust with being under the dominion of Azazel. Sinful desire begins as a spark in the heart of those assigned to Azazel, and Azazel fans that spark into a consuming fire. 22. See James E. Bowley, ‘The Compositions of Abraham’, in Tracing the Threads: Studies in the Vitality of Jewish Pseudepigrapha (ed. John C. Reeves; SBLEJL, 6; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994), pp. 215–38 (217). 23. ‘Hellenistic Influence on the Idea of Resurrection in Jewish Apocalyptic Literature’, JGRCJ 5 (2008), pp. 174–89 (184). Cf. also Halperin, The Faces of the Chariot, p. 111; Outi Lehtipuu, The Afterlife Imagery in Luke’s Story of the Rich Man and Lazarus (NovTSup, 123; Leiden: Brill, 2007), p. 173 n. 6.



On a Wing and a Prayer

93

on some of the common elements in heavenly ascent narratives, April DeConick notes that the human body, in its natural state, is unable to ascend to the divine throne without first being transformed. Without the proper transformation, the body would instantly be burned when it encountered God’s presence: ‘[s]eeing God’s face directly would place the mystic in mortal danger: the vision would consume him by fire’.24 Viewed in this light, it is possible that Abraham’s exchange of garments with Azazel speaks directly to the material body’s readiness to ascend. In that case, the fundamental effect of the exchange is that it deprived Azazel of his heavenly access, while at the same time awarding that access to Abraham. Although this reading is partially based on ideas appearing in other texts, it is supported by the specific reference to ‘garments’ (rather than, say, ‘place’ or ‘inheritance’), and the event appears at the exact point in the narrative where such a reading suggests we should find it. It is also supported by the fact that, just prior to the exchange of garments, Azazel warns Abraham that ‘they will burn you up’ (13.4), so that the exchange of garments, if intended to enable Abraham to ascend without being destroyed, serves literarily to turn Azazel’s words against himself.25 It should be noted, however, that if Abraham’s ascent is indeed soteriological in some sense, then the question of which of these benefits is represented by the exchange of garments – a soteriological reversal of fortune, or ‘fireproofing’ for Abraham’s ascent to the divine throne – should not be answered with a simple ‘either/or’. How is one ‘saved’ according to the Apocalypse of Abraham? The primary soteriological concept in our text is undoubtedly that of election. Abraham is ‘the chosen one’, and his progeny is identified as a people set apart out of all the peoples of the earth. There is, in fact, no hint that belonging to the elect people can ever be a matter of anything other than a genetic tie to Abraham. That does not mean, of course, that membership in Abraham’s lot cannot be precluded by sin, but the text falls silent at this point. God warns Abraham of the sins of his children, but little is said about their final state. We do not know whether Abraham’s despairing over the sins of his children is tied to their personal fate, or rather to their failure to serve God.26 The silence can be filled in two different ways, both of which are congruent with the text as a whole: (1) it is possible that the author of our pseudepigraphon thought in terms of an individualized eschatology of the ‘sweet by-and-by’; or (2) it 24. April D. DeConick, Voices of the Mystics: Early Christian Discourse in the Gospels of John and Thomas and Other Ancient Christian Literature (London: T&T Clark, 2004), p. 91. 25. It is true that the words ‘they will burn you up’ are focused on heaven’s reception of Abraham’s sacrifice, and on the danger posed to Abraham for standing in the midst of his sacrifice, but at the same time it is connected with the danger of ascending to a fiery realm, as Azazel then immediately warns Abraham: ‘if you ascend to the height, they will destroy you’ (13.5 (OTP 1.695)). 26. Alan F. Segal notes that the Apocalypse of Abraham ‘does not speak directly of the final disposition of the righteous and sinners at the last judgment’ (Life after Death: A History of the Afterlife in Western Religion (New York: Doubleday, 2004), p. 503).

94

This World and the World to Come

might also be that the author envisioned the sins of Abraham’s progeny as primarily effecting the fate of the nation as a whole rather than that of its individuals. How are we to understand the concept of salvation as implied in the religiosity of the Apocalypse of Abraham? Does the text envision a restoration of the land to Israel, or (relatedly) a wresting of power from Rome? Or does it (through an associated line of thinking) envision a rebuilt temple and a restoration of the sacrificial cult? (The notion of national restoration lying behind these several ideals can be viewed either as a vindication of the promise of land, or as deliverance from foreign oppression.) Or could it be that Abraham’s sacrificial work within the text has something to do with the idea of a heavenly cultus replacing the earthly work of the Temple priests? And what about a personal dimension? Does the text envision a personal eschatology, implicit in notions of personal immortality or the hope of resurrection? The answer is that the text intimates several things at once, but some things more strongly and insistently than others. The ideal of the Jews’ possession of a homeland is a weak one within our text, but it can perhaps be found in Apoc. Abr. 10.13-14, where it receives only a fleeting mention (if at all): Yahoel says to Abraham, ‘I am sent to you now to bless you and the land which he whom you have called the Eternal One has prepared for you. For your sake I have indicated the way of the land’. There the reference to land is owed entirely to its role in the biblical story of Abraham. (In the biblical account, the promise of land initially serves the theme of Abraham’s getting away from his native Ur.) The oppression of foreign powers is mentioned in ch. 27, where Abraham sees a vision of Gentiles entering the Temple through four entrances, and burning it. (G. H. Box finds in the reference to ‘four’ entrances an allusion to the four superpowers of Daniel’s vision. It is more likely, of course, that ‘four’ is intended merely to indicate the four points of the compass, and therewith the idea of complete and swift subjugation.)27 Abraham’s vision, however, says little about the overthrow of Rome, and the burning of the Temple is treated almost as a permanent state of affairs. Is it possible that Abraham’s sacrifice in the Apocalypse of Abraham represents a response to the loss of the Temple cult, so that Abraham is seen as having established a heavenly cult providing for the ‘salvation’ of either the nation or the Temple, or that Abraham’s sacrifice on the mountain has bearing on more than just his own preparation for mystical ascent? Much has been made recently of Abraham’s ‘priestly’ work in the pseudepigraphon. Andrei Orlov, certainly one of the most expert (and prolific) students of the Apocalypse of Abraham, finds a sacerdotal scheme in many of the details of this account. He proposes not only that Yahoel has high priestly associations – a widespread and unobjectionable claim, given the text’s description of Yahoel’s appearance – but also that Abraham and even Azazel are portrayed 27. Box and Landsman, The Apocalypse of Abraham, p. 26 n. 12.



On a Wing and a Prayer

95

as priests.28 According to Orlov, Abraham is Yahoel’s ‘priestly apprentice’, while Azazel is a ‘fallen priest’.29 Orlov also proposes that Abraham’s initial encounter with Azazel is intended to recall the Day of Atonement ritual: ‘It is possible that by evoking [a] particular cluster of Mosaic traditions the authors of the apocalypse were attempting to connect the patriarch’s sacrificial practices on Mount Horeb with Moses’ receiving the tablets of the law for the second time, the event which later rabbinic traditions interpreted as the inauguration of the Yom Kippur holiday’.30 Daniel Harlow makes many of the same associations that Orlov makes, and the effect of their shared view is that this ‘pan-priestly’ interpretation appears almost to be a newly opening lode for research.31 If this reading has merit, it might have implications for the author’s soteriological views, as it might imply that Abraham’s sacrifices were effected on behalf of those (now) belonging to the Mosaic covenant. But is there anything to this reading of the text? I can only say that I do not see the priestly associations that Orlov and Harlow claim for Azazel, and I think Orlov finds more significance in the Bible’s association of Azazel with the Day of Atonement ritual than the author of the pseudepigraphon intends to invoke.32 It is true that the use of Azazel in 1 En. 10.4-7 recalls the scapegoat ritual in a number of details (as Orlov notes),33 but none of those details are carried over into the Apocalypse of Abraham except the figure of Azazel, and he appears to be appropriated simply as a chief demon rather than as a participant in the scapegoat ceremony. Orlov claims that ‘[c]hapters 9–12 describe the beginning of Abraham’s priestly initiation’,34 but it is just as likely that the author of the Apocalypse of Abraham saw as little regarding a ‘priestly initiation’ as did the original author of Genesis 15. I can see no justifiable reason to take Abraham’s sacrifice as anything more than a preparatory gesture for his own mystical ascent. We should therefore look elsewhere for the text’s primary understanding of salvation. I have already referred to the way the text alludes to Israel’s immunity from the power of the stars. This can be viewed as a solidly 28. Orlov, ‘Eschatological Yom Kippur in the Apocalypse of Abraham: Part I. The Scapegoat Ritual’, pp. 3–35. 29. Orlov, ‘Eschatological Yom Kippur in the Apocalypse of Abraham: Part I. The Scapegoat Ritual’, p. 6. 30. Orlov, ‘Eschatological Yom Kippur in the Apocalypse of Abraham: Part I. The Scapegoat Ritual’, p. 15. 31. Daniel C. Harlow, ‘Idolatry and Alterity: Israel and the Nations in the Apocalypse of Abraham’, in The Other in Second Temple Judaism: Essays in Honor of John J. Collins (eds Daniel C. Harlow, et al; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011), pp. 302–30. (I wish to thank Dr Harlow for an advance copy of his article.) 32. Robert Helm also sees a ‘veiled reference’ to the scapegoat ritual (Lev. 16.21) behind ‘the transference of Abraham’s corruption to Azazel’ (‘Azazel in Early Jewish Tradition’, AUSS 32 (1994), pp. 217–26 (223)). 33. See Orlov, ‘Eschatological Yom Kippur in the Apocalypse of Abraham: Part I. The Scapegoat Ritual’, pp. 17–19. 34. Orlov, ‘Eschatological Yom Kippur in the Apocalypse of Abraham: Part I. The Scapegoat Ritual’, p. 8.

96

This World and the World to Come

soteriological notion, as being secure from the baneful influence of the stars might itself be viewed as an end of God’s deliverance. As noted above, the notion of Israel’s immunity from astral fates is well attested in later Jewish writings. b. Šabb. 156a–b, for example, lists R. Yohanan, Rab, Mar Samuel, R. Akiba, and R. Nahman b. Isaac as all holding to Israel’s elevation above astral fates, over against R. Hanina’s contrary view. (See also Gen. Rab. 44.12.) The idea can be found in earlier works as well: James Kugel traces this as an ideology operating within Jubilees.35 The basic idea of Israel’s separation from the power of the stars, while the stars yet hold power over the nations, is already clearly stated in Deut. 4.19. It is in a GrecoRoman context, however, that one finds the particular combination of ideas that make this all work in the way the Apocalypse of Abraham envisions it: Iamblichus writes that fate is a consequence of generateness, but that mystical ascent provides a means of escape (Myst. 8.7). It would not be going too far to see a similar thing going on in the Apocalypse of Abraham: Abraham’s ‘lot’ is elevated above the astral fates because Abraham himself has ascended above the fates. Thus when we are told that Abraham looks down on the fifth heaven (19.9), and sees there the ‘hosts of stars’ who hold sway over the elements on the earth, this appears to refer to the powers that hold sway over Azazel’s lot. But the ‘salvation’ of Abraham’s progeny is not confined to their immunity from astral fates. The text also speaks in terms of personal eschatology. At the end of ch. 22, God describes those appearing on one side of Abraham’s vision as ‘a multitude of tribes who existed previously … and after you some (who have been) prepared for judgment and order, others for revenge and perdition at the end of the age’. This appears to refer to those of Azazel’s lot, which is to say that, in spite of Donaldson’s words (see above), there might be hope after all for the Gentiles. Being a Jew ‘according to the flesh’ is also not a guarantee of salvation. As mentioned above, the warning not to follow the stars might hint at the possibility of forfeiting one’s membership in Israel. 4. Conclusion There is no hint in the Apocalypse of Abraham that the reader is to exemplify Abraham in some sort of mystical ascent. Rather, the benefits of Abraham’s experiences are tied up with his headship of a people – a people with whom the intended reader identifies. The lot of those that God has separated from Azazel’s lot is bound up with Abraham’s identity. The text, in fact, seems to go out of its way to make that clear. The Apocalypse of Abraham does 35. James Kugel, ‘The Holiness of Israel and the Land in Second Temple Times’, in Texts, Temples, and Traditions: A Tribute to Menahem Haran (eds Michael V. Fox, Victor Avigdor Hurowitz, Avi Hurvitz, Michael L. Klein, Baruch J. Schwartz, and Nili Shupak; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1996) pp. 21–32.



On a Wing and a Prayer

97

not speak directly to the ethical and halakhic aspects of the reader’s role in soteriology. This is not to say, however, that ethics and halakha are necessarily secondary. If the Apocalypse of Abraham heightens the Jewishness of salvation, that does not mean that the circle for which it was written lacked other writings or traditions alerting readers to the more ethical and halakhic dimensions of the faith. Any text that revisits the patriarchal roots of the faith is surely bound to emphasize the ethnic aspect of the reader’s personal religious identity. The same is true of any text whose apparent purpose is to present an understanding of the faith vis-à-vis the corrupt nations that follow false gods. None of this should be very surprising. In many ways, in fact, the Apocalypse of Abraham traces out the same soteriological lines as the Abrahamic account in Genesis – that is, that salvation is a matter of belonging to Abraham.

Chapter 6

The Few Who Obtain Mercy: Soteriology in 4 Ezra Jonathan Moo 1. Introduction Questions about salvation – who it’s for, how it’s obtained, why it hasn’t happened yet, what it will look like when it does – run through the whole of 4 Ezra and constitute one of the book’s major themes. The author’s very purpose in writing can be discerned in the need to address ‘soteriological’ questions posed by his protagonist, Ezra, questions which may well have been asked by many Jews in the years following the temple’s destruction in 70 ce. Why has Israel not been saved from her enemies? Have God’s promises failed? Fourth Ezra dates from sometime near the end of the first century, certainly after 70 ce, and the book is comprised of seven episodes, separated by periods of fasting (or special diet) undertaken by Ezra, the book’s narrator.1 The first three episodes consist of Ezra’s laments over his people Israel and questions that he poses to his angelic interlocutor, Uriel. The angel does not at first seem to be effective at appeasing Ezra’s complaints, merely highlighting the limitations of Ezra’s knowledge about God’s ways and trying to shift Ezra’s attention from the present time of suffering to the future blessings that await the righteous in the age to come. What about the many – the great majority, 1. Fourth Ezra is preserved in Latin, Syriac, Ethiopic, Arabic, Armenian and Georgian. The Latin has been the most influential version and, along with the Syriac (and, to a lesser extent, the Ethiopic) is generally considered the most reliable. All of the extant versions go back to a lost Greek text (or texts), which was itself almost certainly a translation of a Semitic, probably Hebrew, original. The English translation cited here is either that of the NRSV or my own, with reference as well to the translation in Michael E. Stone, Fourth Ezra: A Commentary on the Book of Fourth Ezra (Hermenia; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990). Latin citations are taken from A. Frederik J. Klijn, Der Lateinische Text der Apocalypse des Esra (TUGAL, 131; Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 1983); for the Syriac, see R. J Bidawid (ed.), ‘4 Esdras’ in The Old Testament in Syriac according to the Peshitta Version, part 4.3 (Leiden: Brill, 1973), and the translation and notes in G. H. Box, The Apocalypse of Ezra (London: SPCK, 1917). The most useful recent edition (in translation) is A. Frederik J. Klijn, Die Esra-Apocalypse (IV. Esra) (GCS; Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 1992), whose apparatus includes all of the significant variations between the versions.



The Few Who Obtain Mercy

99

including perhaps Ezra himself – who can expect in the end not reward but only punishment, since so few can resist the evil inclination and keep the Law? Such questions never receive straightforward answers, but Ezra’s eventual acceptance of the justice of God’s ways does result in consolation of some sort. This consolation begins with Ezra’s encounter with a mourning woman who is transformed into a glorious city (in the fourth episode) and ultimately takes the form of visions (in the fifth and sixth episodes) wherein Ezra sees, at long last, that Israel does have a future in God’s plans and that the relatively few who will be saved nonetheless include a large multitude of those who have faithfully kept God’s Law. In the final episode of the book, Ezra is thus prepared to take on the mantle of a new Moses, restoring the Scriptures (along with 70 ‘secret’ books reserved for the wise) and instructing the people to rule over their minds and discipline their hearts, encouraging them that ‘after death you will obtain mercy’ (14.34). This essay addresses the question of just how such mercy is obtained according to 4 Ezra and how this post-mortem hope for the individual is to be related to the salvation of Israel as a nation. 2. Recent scholarly discussions of salvation in 4 Ezra The prominence of questions about salvation in 4 Ezra and the surprisingly sharp ways in which they are posed have made this text a happy-hunting ground for New Testament scholars keen to find parallels (or foils) to the soteriology that they discover in the letters of the Apostle Paul. For readers who come to this text fresh from their reading of Romans, it is difficult to escape the impression that here in 4 Ezra – if perhaps nowhere else – we have first-century Jewish evidence for the sort of pessimistic anthropology and despair at being able to keep the Law that characterizes Paul’s portrayal of his own pre-Christian Judaism.2 Particularly influential in recent study has been the view of E. P. Sanders, for whom 4 Ezra is the exception that proves the rule, the one text that does not fit the normative pattern of Jewish religion that he identifies everywhere else. In 4 Ezra, Sanders claims, we see what happens when ‘covenantal nomism’ collapses and is replaced by ‘legalistic perfectionism’.3 Sanders’s assessment is largely confirmed by Bruce Longenecker in a comparative study of 4 Ezra and Romans 1–11,4 and one need not look far 2. The following survey of scholarly discussion relevant to the soteriology of 4 Ezra is adapted from Jonathan A. Moo, Creation, Nature and Hope in 4 Ezra (FRLANT 237; Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2011), pp. 20–1. 3. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion (London: SCM, 1977), pp. 409–18 (409). 4. Longenecker, Eschatology and the Covenant: A Comparison of 4 Ezra and Romans 1–11 (JSNTSup, 57; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991). See esp. pp. 151–3. Unlike Sanders, Longenecker does not find it necessary to exclude from his purview chapter 14, which Sanders considers a late addition.

100

This World and the World to Come

for readings of 4 Ezra that emphasize its pessimistic dualism and the apparent absence of any hope that divine grace and mercy might be experienced in the present age. Longenecker himself has nonetheless subsequently softened his conclusions regarding 4 Ezra, now finding the author’s purposes better described not as covenantal ‘abrogation’ (in which the covenant relationship between God and his people is given up altogether) but as covenantal ‘redefinition’ (in which the blessings of the covenant still apply for a righteous few).5 Even in Longenecker’s more recent and nuanced reading of 4 Ezra, however, he maintains that ‘divine grace and mercy are not to be expected in the present age’; the Law alone remains as a pointer to (eschatological) life,6 and the Law must be kept perfectly (or nearly so) if there is to be any hope of obtaining the promised future blessings. Richard Bauckham has provided one of the few direct challenges to such pessimistic readings of the soteriology of 4 Ezra, arguing that 4 Ezra retains a rather more traditional and less anomalous perspective than Longenecker, Sanders and others have allowed. Bauckham suggests, for example, that perfect law-obedience is not what the book’s author necessarily thinks is required for salvation and nor is God’s mercy considered to be absent from the present age.7 Similar conclusions can be drawn from Michael Stone’s magisterial commentary and many other publications on 4 Ezra, although Stone does not address directly questions of soteriology.8 The present essay can be seen as confirming Bauckham’s essential insights into the way in which salvation is conceived in the book (even if there are inevitably some differences in detail), and it owes much to Stone’s important work on 4 Ezra and its eschatology.9 5. Longenecker, 2 Esdras (GAP; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1995), pp. 98–100; cf. idem, ‘Locating 4 Ezra: A Consideration of its Social Setting and Functions’, JSJ 28 (1997), pp. 271–93. 6. Longenecker, 2 Esdras, p. 50; elsewhere he claims that ‘traditional notions such as atonement and divine mercy are practically vacuous’ in 4 Ezra (pp. 99–100). Cf. idem, Eschatology, pp. 94–8, 152–3, 156–7, 271. Wolfgang Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte: Untersuchen zum Zeit- und Geschichtsverständnis im 4. Buch Esra und in der syr. Baruchapokalypse (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1969), pp. 145–9, 245, similarly claims that the elevation of the importance of Law in 4 Ezra occurs precisely because of the diminishment of the importance of history. 7. Bauckham, ‘Apocalypses’, in Justification and Variegated Nomism. Volume I. The Complexities of Second Temple Judaism (eds D. A. Carson, P. T. O’Brien, and M. A. Seifrid; WUNT, 2.140; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001), pp.135–87, pp. 161–75, esp. 173. 8. Stone’s different concerns are evident in the fact he does not find reason at any point in his commentary even to cite Sanders. Nonetheless, insofar as soteriology more generally conceived is central to 4 Ezra and bound up with its eschatology, Stone’s work is of course of great relevance to the questions at hand. 9. In the following analysis of 4 Ezra’s soteriology, I am assuming an approach to discerning the author’s voice that I defend in Creation, Nature and Hope, pp. 30–4. The author speaks through both Ezra and Uriel, but with the purpose of finally situating Uriel’s view – which he himself may have found initially difficult to accept – within a wider context that makes it palatable for himself and for others who may be wrestling with the same sorts of questions that he has had.



The Few Who Obtain Mercy

101

3. Saved from what? The plight of nation, individual and cosmos The main complaint of Ezra from the first episode onwards is that Israel is suffering at the hands of her enemies while the wicked are prospering; he is disturbed by ‘the desolation of Zion and the abundance of those who live in Babylon’ (3.2), and he wonders why, for the ‘tribes of Jacob’, ‘their reward has not appeared and their labour has borne no fruit’ (3.33). He expresses this lament in various ways in the subsequent dialogues, but consistently returns to the same theme: ‘Israel has been given over to the Gentiles in disgrace’ (4.23); ‘those who opposed your promises have trampled on those who believed your covenants’ (5.29); the nations ‘domineer over us and devour us’ (6.57). In light of this bleak situation, the salvation for which Ezra longs is necessarily this-worldly, national and even political. ‘Spare your people and have mercy on your inheritance’ is his prayer to the Most High (8.45).10 The visions of the fifth and sixth episodes (along with the vision of the glorious city in the fourth episode) will finally provide something of an answer to this plea, with their vivid portrayals of how national salvation will indeed be accomplished for Israel. There are even a few passing hints at this in the dialogues (e.g., 5.1-7; 7.26-28; 9.8), but Ezra has a long ways to go before he can be rewarded with the full consolation offered by the later visions. He first needs to be humbled in his attempt to grasp the ways of the Most High and to recognize that there are limits to human understanding (4.1-25; 5.3440). Above all, he needs to recognize the culpability of Israel herself (and, indeed, of all who are judged; cf. 7.10-14, 19-25, 70-74, 127-131; 8.58-60; 9.9-12), to accept the justice of God’s punishment and to shift his attention away from present suffering to the glorious future that awaits the righteous (see, e.g., 4.34-37; 5.44, 48-49; 6.33-34; 7.16, 19; 8.51-55; 9.13). Ezra’s concern begins with his people Israel, and it is to their fate that he returns again and again throughout the dialogues (cf. 4.22-25; 5.2130; 8.15ff.). Yet even already in Ezra’s opening lament there are hints at the more individually-focused and universal concerns regarding the plight of humankind in general that emerge explicitly later in the book. His very decision to begin with creation and Adam as the context for his rehearsal of God’s history with his people (3.4-6; cf. 6.38-54) lends itself to wider questions concerning God’s relationship with all of those whom he has created. The ‘evil heart’ or ‘evil inclination’ (cor malignum/malum; cf. Heb. (rh rcy) with which humankind is burdened, and which hinders all of those descended from Adam from keeping the Law (3.20-22, 25-26), calls into question for Ezra God’s justice in punishing evil-doers at all. Ezra’s 10. Ezra describes Zion’s desolation most vividly in his address to the mourning woman in 10.19-24; tellingly, this lament ends with his injunction to the woman that she lay aside her troubles, ‘so that the Mighty One may be merciful to you again, and the Most High may give you rest, a respite from your troubles’ (10.24). The converted Ezra is here able to offer the comfort that he has until this point been unable to accept himself.

102

This World and the World to Come

confusion regarding the status and plight of his own people leads him to query – in ways that he might not otherwise have done – the justice of God’s ways with all of his creation.11 The relentless emphasis in Uriel’s speeches upon individual culpability and the corresponding limitation of the blessings of the age to come to a righteous few who keep the law (and hence but a remnant of ethnic Israel) serves only to sharpen Ezra’s anguish on this point. Ezra has begun with the conviction that Israel is more righteous than the other nations, that although there might be the exceptional Gentile or two who has kept the law (3.36), there is surely no entire nation other than Israel that has been more faithful to God’s commands (3.28-36) or believed in his covenants (5.29). Ezra’s plea at this stage is that God be faithful to his covenant people, a people whose current plight he implicitly recognizes could be construed as divine punishment but who surely, in Ezra’s view, do not deserve such punishment any more than the nations. Eventually, however, Ezra is forced to shift tack by the angel’s consistent emphasis on the stringent requirements for the righteous and on the few – few even of Israel, it would seem – who thus can expect to be spared judgement. In the face of this harsh portrait, Ezra abandons any claims to Israel’s relative righteousness. He comes instead to acknowledge that most of Israel – himself included – do not have a store of works laid up with the Most High that might merit their salvation. Only a very few righteous can qualify on this basis. Yet, surely, God’s mercy towards his people is demonstrated precisely in his having pity on those who are undeserving, on those who have no store of such works (8.36). Ezra’s plea to the Most High becomes, ‘O do not look on the sins of your people’ (8.27). On the basis of God’s mercy and on the basis of the faithfulness of those few who have indeed served him and taught his law (8.26-30), Ezra asks that God have pity on even those who have no works of righteousness. The angel (speaking now in the voice of God himself) does not entirely reject Ezra’s logic at this point, observing that ‘some things you have spoken rightly’ (8.37) – and the significance of this partial concession to Ezra for understanding the mechanics of salvation in the book will be explored below. But what Uriel does reject is Ezra’s hopeful conclusion regarding the fate of sinners, whose judgement and destruction remains unquestioned (8.38). Uriel will not allow Ezra to presume upon God’s mercy, to think that God’s compassion means that the unrighteous will be spared judgement and saved in the end. Indeed – although the angel does not make this observation – Israel’s present situation can be seen as confirming Uriel’s claim: neither Israel’s status as God’s covenant people nor her locus as the nation among 11. That Ezra perceives a close connection between creation and election is seen most obviously in his prayer in 8.4-19. Cf. Joan E. Cook, ‘Creation in 4 Ezra: The Biblical Theme in Support of Theodicy’, in Creation in the Biblical Traditions (eds R. J. Clifford and J. J. Collins; CBQMS, 24; Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1992), pp. 129–39.



The Few Who Obtain Mercy

103

whom one might find faithful individuals of the sort Ezra highlights in his prayer have exempted her from God’s judgement.12 Zion has been laid waste. If Israel as a nation now suffers divine punishment for the collective guilt of the people, individual Israelite sinners too should expect nothing but judgement in the age to come. The problem that this presents for Ezra is that he is acutely aware of the difficulty of overcoming the ‘evil inclination’, of keeping the law and hence of being confirmed as one of the righteous few who will be saved. The angel does little to lessen Ezra’s fears on this point, because Uriel acknowledges – and at times even emphasizes – that it is indeed difficult (though not, as Ezra suggests, impossible) to overcome the evil inclination and to keep the law (7.12-14, 89, 92, 96, 127-28). Ezra’s profound sense of the universality and debilitating nature of the ‘disease’ that has become permanent since Adam’s transgression (3.22; cf. 7.48, 68, 116-26) means that Uriel’s consistent emphasis on the rewards of the individual righteous in the age to come fails to allay Ezra’s concern for the fate of the many unrighteous – among whom he tries to include himself. Uriel’s focus on future glory hence also fails to provide an answer to Ezra’s desire to see the salvation of Israel, since so many of Israel are apparently left out. The plight of Israel as a nation thus becomes linked in 4 Ezra with the ‘internal’ plight of individual human beings who seem – in Ezra’s estimation – unable to avoid transgression (7.116-26; 8.35). Israel’s present suffering as well as the fate of the individual sinner in the age to come both stem from the failure to keep the law, a failure that Ezra attributes to the evil heart with which all of humankind is burdened. The transgression of Adam sets the pattern in 4 Ezra for the transgression of all of those descended from him; hence Ezra’s lament, ‘Adam, what have you done? For though it was you who sinned, the fall13 was not yours alone, but ours also who are your descendants’ (7.118). Uriel broadens the effects of Adam’s sin even further, asserting that his transgression and human evil in general is the explanation for why the entire present ‘world-age’ (Lat. saeculum; Syr. ‘lm’)14 is corrupted and corrupting, full of danger and evil and sorrow (e.g., 7.11-12). Human evil has put God’s entire ‘world’ (Lat. orbem; Syr. tĕbhe¯l) in peril (9.20) and has made life difficult and toilsome for its inhabitants (7.12). Things are in fact getting worse as the world grows older and human sin increases (5.55; 14.10, 16-18), and Ezra will be encouraged in the final episode to escape from this corruptible life (14.13-15).

12. A similar observation is made by Bauckham, ‘Apocalypses’, p. 164. 13. Lat. casus, but, in light of the other versions, it is probably better translated ‘misfortune’ or ‘evil’; cf. Stone, Fourth Ezra, p. 253. 14. The term almost certainly goes back to an original Hebrew Mlw(, and 4 Ezra attests to the post-biblical usage of the word as an independent noun and its expansion in meaning to encompass ‘age’, ‘time’, ‘world’ or ‘world-age’. By glossing it with ‘world-age’, its potential ambiguity is preserved. See Stone, Features of the Eschatology of IV Ezra (HSS, 35; Atlanta: Scholars, 1989), pp. 149–72; cf. Harnisch, Verhängnis, pp. 90–106; Stone, Fourth Ezra, pp. 218–19.

104

This World and the World to Come

This motif of cosmic corruption serves in part to explain why Ezra and his people are suffering. The angel agrees with Ezra that this world-age was originally made for Israel’s sake (6.55-59; 7.10-11), but it is no longer fit for purpose. It was judged when Adam transgressed (7.11) and so ‘will not be able to bring the things that have been promised to the righteous’ (4.27).15 It is only the future and greater world-age that can now provide their appropriate reward. The evils of this age moreover serve to intensify the challenge faced by those who try to remain faithful to the Most High; all must pass through the ‘difficult and futile experiences’ of the present before they can hope to receive the ‘fruit of immortality’ that awaits them (7.13-14). Uriel’s point is that the very difficulties of enduring the present age and keeping the law about which Ezra complains are a result of humankind’s rejection of God’s offer of life. The world has been corrupted by humankind’s corruption. Ezra has wanted to hold God to account for Israel’s (and humanity’s) current plight, coming close to making God responsible even for the evil heart and all of its effects (3.8, 20-22; 7.116). Uriel shares Ezra’s strong belief in God’s sovereignty (reassuring Ezra, for example, that the sins of the unrighteous can by no means hold back God’s plans for the future age (4.36-43; cf. 5.49) and emphasizing that the Most High planned for the things pertaining to the end from the very beginning (6.1-6; 7.70)), but the angel refuses to allow Israel or humankind off the hook. It is ultimately up to the individual either to choose life or to be overcome by the evil inclination. Insofar as Uriel acknowledges that this is now indeed a struggle, the angel claims that this too is the fault of Adam and sinful humanity. It is human evil that has made the present world-age the corrupted and corrupting place it has become. This raises questions regarding the relationship in 4 Ezra between divine agency and human responsibility, and similar questions will emerge again in our attempt to discern the way in which salvation is obtained according to the book. For now, we can summarize the findings of this section by observing that the nature of the situation that makes salvation necessary in 4 Ezra cannot be limited to the ‘external’ plight of desolate Israel or to the ‘internal’ plight of human beings and their evil inclination or to the ‘external’ plight of imperilled cosmos.16 The consolation for which Ezra yearns is for his people Israel. But the logic of the book demands that Israel’s plight be answered finally not just 15. This explanation, which emphasizes human culpability for the fate of the present world-age, is held together in 4 Ezra with the idea that the Most High intended two ages from the beginning (cf. 6.1-6; 7.50, 70; 8.1). 16. These are sometimes misleadingly presented as exclusive alternatives; e.g., the ‘internal’ plight is emphasized by Alden Lloyd Thompson, Responsibility for Evil in the Theodicy of IV Ezra (SBLDS, 9; Missoula, Mont.: Scholars, 1977), p. 276, whereas Moyer V. Hubbard, New Creation in Paul’s Letters and Thought (SNTSMS, 119; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), p. 51, claims that the external plight of Israel supersedes the author’s concern about the internal plight of individuals. A. P. Hayman better captures the whole picture: ‘the insight of the author of 4 Ezra is to see that this chaos without mirrors the chaos within – in the human heart. The eternal battle for order between God and the forces of chaos mirrors the battle within the human heart between our good and evil impulses’ (‘The “Man from the Sea” in 4 Ezra 13’, JJS 49 (1998), pp. 1–16 (15)).



The Few Who Obtain Mercy

105

with external salvation from the hands of her enemies (however important this remains for the comfort of Ezra) but also with the internal transformation of the hearts of God’s people and the provision of a greater world-age wherein the promises of the first can be brought to fruition. 4. Saved for what? Eschatology in 4 Ezra Before addressing the crucial question of how one comes to participate in this salvation according to 4 Ezra, it is worth sketching the contours of the book’s eschatology in order to see the ways in which the envisioned future salvation provides resolution to the plight(s) delineated in the previous section. Earlier scholarship purported to find two contrasting, even competing, ‘eschatologies’ in 4 Ezra, which could be seen as corresponding in certain respects to the different plights identified above (especially to the national versus the cosmic/individual),17 but – just as the different plights themselves are interrelated – so too are the different but intertwined pictures of the ‘end’ that are portrayed in 4 Ezra.18 The various features of eschatological salvation as it is depicted in 4 Ezra are generally assigned either to a ‘Messianic kingdom’ complex of motifs or an ‘age to come’ complex. These two complexes are presented as temporallysucceeding stages in 4 Ezra 7.26-44, where the events associated with the end are summarized as follows: (1) signs of the end; (2) revelation of the previously unseen city and hidden land, which occurs in association with the advent of the Messiah, who (4) reigns for 400 years; (5) the death of the Messiah and all of humankind and the return of the world to its ‘primeval silence’; and (6) the awakening of the new world-age, accompanied by resurrection and judgement. Each of these components (apart from the unparalleled note of the Messiah’s death in 7.29) is developed more fully elsewhere in the book, although it would be a mistake to suppose that they can always be as neatly separated as they are here in 7.26-44. In the first three episodes, and particularly in episode 3, Uriel focuses above all on the age to come and the future rewards of the righteous, rewards that can be seen as pertaining primarily to the time following resurrection and final judgement. There are also extended descriptions of the intermediate state of the souls of the righteous and the wicked when they 17. The most thorough treatment of 4 Ezra’s eschatology from this perspective is Joseph Keulers, Die eschatologische Lehre des vierten Esrabuches (BS, 20.2–3; Freiburg: Herder, 1922), but the idea goes back to Richard Kabisch, Das vierte Buch Esra auf seine Quellen Untersucht (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1889); cf. G. H. Box, The Ezra-Apocalypse (London: Pitman & Sons, 1912). 18. Stone (Features) thus adopts the helpful label of ‘associational complexes’; he elsewhere calls attention to the diversity of ways in which the very term ‘end’ is used in 4 Ezra, and how each stage serves to distinguish the righteous from the wicked (‘Coherence and Inconsistency in the Apocalypses: The Case of “The End” in 4 Ezra’, JBL 102 (1983), pp. 229–43).

106

This World and the World to Come

are (temporarily) separated from their bodies (7.88), a state in which they receive a foretaste of the final rewards or punishments that will follow after the resurrection (see esp. 7.76-101). Near the end of each of the first three episodes, the angel also provides a series of descriptions of the ‘signs of the end’ that seem to anticipate both the Messianic kingdom and the age to come (5.1-13; 6.11-28; 8.63–9.4).19 The fifth and sixth episodes contain detailed visions of the coming of the Messiah and his accompanying judgement and deliverance of his people, including the lost tribes that return from beyond the Euphrates; here there is only a brief mention of the subsequent final judgement (12.34). We have already suggested the importance of these visions for Ezra’s consolation. Nevertheless, when Ezra takes up the role of comforter of his people in the final episode, his focus – like Uriel’s in the first three episodes – is on the post-mortem mercy for which individuals can hope (14.34-35). Apart from a hint that he knows something about the lost tribes (the ‘brothers’ who are ‘farther in the interior’ (14.33)), he refrains from telling the people anything about his visions of the Messiah and Israel’s national salvation.20 Finally, Ezra’s dramatic vision in the central fourth episode of a woman who is transformed into the great ‘city of the Most High’ corresponds in 7.26 to the revelation of the ‘unseen city’. On first reading, 7.26-44 suggests a rather clean delineation between the ‘messianic kingdom’ and ‘age to come’. Nonetheless, it is often unclear elsewhere in the book just which stage of the end is being referred to in any given description of the future judgement and rewards of the righteous. The boundaries between the different complexes remain rather fuzzy throughout and are never fully resolved. For example, the expectation that ‘the heart of the earth’s inhabitants will be changed and converted to a different spirit’ (6.26) comes in a section that includes elements elsewhere linked both to the ‘messianic kingdom’21 and the ‘age to come’ complexes.22 Again, in 9.8 the Most High locates salvation ‘in my land and within my borders, which I have sanctified for myself from the beginning’, a description that would seem to pertain to the ‘messianic kingdom’; yet 9.12 makes it clear that the corresponding judgement is one that takes place ‘after death’.23 Even the 19. For an argument that 5.6-7 in particular includes a reference to the advent and reign of the Messiah, see Moo, ‘A Messiah whom “the Many do not Know”? Rereading 4 Ezra 5:6-7’, JTS NS 58 (2007), pp. 525–36. Possible references to the future, postresurrection age emerge most clearly in 6.26-28 and 9.9-12, although in both cases there are also motifs that elsewhere are linked to the Messianic Age. 20. A possible explanation for this omission is proposed below. 21. For example, the references to ‘those who remain’ and the revelation of those who had never tasted death in 6.25 are echoed in the description of the Messianic Age in 7.28. 22. For example, there is a picture of what seems to be the final judgement in 6.18-20 and references to the ‘end of my world’ and the overcoming of ‘corruption’ in 6.25, 28 (cf. 7.30-31). 23. Stone, Features, p. 137, suggests that there may be some temporal progression in view (signalled, e.g., by tunc in the Latin at 9.9), but the detailed schema of 7.26-44 can only somewhat artificially be read into the passage, and 9.7-12 is more naturally read as describing contemporaneous events.



The Few Who Obtain Mercy

107

apparently systematic account in 7.26-44 proves difficult when one probes what is meant, for example, by the ‘unseen city’ and ‘hidden land’. As Michael Knibb has argued, these would seem to be equivalent to the heavenly Jerusalem (which Ezra sees in the central, fourth episode) and to paradise; yet, passages such as 8.52-53 suggest that paradise, the tree of life and a ‘built city’ are all part of the world-age that dawns after the resurrection and final judgement – not, as in 7.26-28, linked with the signs of the end and the advent of the Messiah.24 Such mixing of imagery in 7.26-31 highlights the eclectic nature of 4 Ezra’s eschatology and warns against driving too deep a wedge between those things associated with the messianic kingdom and those belonging to the age to come. Each eschatological stage includes elements that answer to the complex of problems (national, individual and cosmic) for which salvation is deemed necessary in 4 Ezra, and the admixture that results – though perhaps not always deliberate on the author’s part – can be seen in some cases as serving his purposes. For example, by apparently assigning the ‘unseen city’ and ‘hidden land’ both to the world to come and to the messianic kingdom, the author may be hinting at the futility of any human attempt to rebuild Jerusalem and jump-start the Messianic Age. This in any case seems to be one of the effects of having the future restoration take place under a pre-existent Messiah who comes from beyond the bounds of this world (cf. 12.32; 13.26, 52), and it explains why Ezra’s visions of the city in the fourth episode must take place in a field apart from human beings – for ‘no work of human building could endure in the place where the city of the Most High was to be revealed’ (10.54). The city to come is consistently described as already ‘built’ (7.6; 8.52; 10.27, 42, 44), suggesting that there is no expectation that human beings should build it themselves. And the lost tribes that cross the Euphrates in the end come not to wage war but as a ‘peaceable multitude’ that joins the Messiah (13.39-50) after he has by himself destroyed the enemies of God and his people. This understanding of how Zion is to be restored means that even the fulfilment of nationalistic hopes can be described in 4 Ezra with transcendent categories that borrow from ideas otherwise linked to the final judgement and the new creation or age to come. The mingling of nationalist/election themes and universalist/creation themes can therefore be traced not only in the shifting complaints of the figure Ezra (as we observed in the previous section) but also in the answer to those complaints that is provided by the overlapping pictures of messianic kingdom and age to come. Finally, it can be observed that the author’s concern to mitigate any attempt to bring about the messianic kingdom through revolt or human effort might explain why Ezra’s address to the people in the final episode emphasizes 24. Knibb, ‘Commentary on 2 Esdras’, in The First and Second Books of Esdras (eds M. A. Knibb and R. J. Coggins; CBC; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979), pp. 76–307 (167). This problem was also observed by Kabisch, Das vierte Buch, pp. 66–7, who, like many after him, explained it away by attributing 7.26 to a later redactor.

108

This World and the World to Come

only individual piety and post-mortem award. Although the author and the ‘wise’ who read his book (and who are able to ‘comprehend and keep these secrets’ (12.38)) can be assured – as Ezra has been – that Israel as a nation does have a future, their goal as comforters and teachers of the people must be simply to encourage faithful law-obedience and to refocus hopes on the age to come. The sorts of visions that Ezra has had – of the downfall of kings and destruction of Israel’s enemies – are perhaps considered too dangerous for wider consumption, given their potential to inflame nationalistic and political hopes at a time when what is needed is humble acknowledgement of Israel’s sins and faithful obedience to the law.25 In any case, the age to come itself is finally considered by the author of 4 Ezra to represent not the abandonment of Israel’s earthly hopes but the full realization of those hopes, of which the messianic kingdom is but the beginning. This is another reason for the fluidity of the boundaries between the different complexes of eschatological events; just as the transcendent nature of the age to come can be seen to apply to elements of the messianic kingdom, so too are some of the motifs most closely related to the messianic kingdom taken up and included in the book’s portrayal of the greater age to come. Salvation in 4 Ezra encompasses the hopes of nation, individual and cosmos together, and although there is some scope for teasing these strands apart and examining them separately, they cannot be fully untangled from each other without diminishing the strength of the book’s overall conception. 5. The few who will be saved: human and divine agency in 4 Ezra’s soteriology We have already had reason to examine in passing some of the ways in which those who will be saved are described in 4 Ezra. In the remainder of this essay we will focus more closely on what these descriptions reveal about the requirements that are expected of the righteous if they are to have a share in the eschatological blessings, and we will also consider the role that divine mercy plays in their salvation. The overlap that we have observed between the descriptions of the messianic kingdom and the age to come means that there is no need to distinguish in our analysis between descriptions of those who will be delivered by the Messiah, those whose souls after death joyfully behold the glory of the Most High (7.89) and those who participate in the rewards of the age to come. All of these constitute in 4 Ezra the same essential group of the ‘few’ righteous who will be saved. These ‘righteous’ who are saved are variously described as those who ‘stored up treasures of faith’ (6.5), ‘keep the commandments’ of the Lord (7.45), ‘have made [God’s] glory to prevail now, and through [whom his] 25. So also Longenecker, ‘Locating 4 Ezra’, pp. 185–93; cf. P. F. Esler, ‘The Social Function of 4 Ezra’, JSNT 53 (1994), pp. 99–123 (115).



The Few Who Obtain Mercy

109

name has now been honoured’ (7.60), ‘have a treasure of works stored up with the Most High’ (7.77), ‘have trusted the covenants of the Most High’ (7.83), ‘have kept the ways of the Most High’ (7.88), ‘laboriously served the Most High and withstood danger every hour so that they might keep the law of the Lawgiver perfectly’ (7.89), ‘have striven with great effort to overcome the evil thought that was formed with them, so that it might not lead them astray from life into death’ (7.92), ‘kept the law with which they were entrusted’ (7.94), ‘served’ God during their life (7.98), ‘have led a pure life’ (7.122), ‘have practised self-control’ (7.125) and ‘have works and faith towards the Almighty’ (13.23). ‘Faith’ and ‘works’ also occur together in 9.7 as markers of the righteous: ‘all who will be saved and will be able to escape on account of their works, or on account of the faith by which they have believed’ (9.7).26 In a few instances, those who are saved are described, especially in the context of the Messianic Age, as simply the remnant of those who are ‘left alive’ and delivered ‘within my borders’ (6.25; 7.27; 12.34; 13.48; cf. 9.8).27 The lost tribes, by contrast, who return to the land only at the end to experience salvation along with the rest, are said to have left ‘the multitude of nations’ and gone ‘to a more distant region, where no human beings had ever lived, so that there at least they might keep the statutes that they had not kept in their own land’ (13.41-42). Bauckham argues that this journey of the lost tribes provides a hint to Ezra and the rest of Israel about what they ought to have done – to separate themselves from the nations in order to keep the law.28 But there is no suggestion elsewhere in 4 Ezra that the fault of the people of Israel lies in their failure to be separate from the nations in this physical sense, however regrettable might be their current situation. The role of the faithful lost tribes rather seems within the wider context of the book intended to assure Ezra that (1) law obedience does remain possible in this world-age, even if it is difficult;29 and (2) the ‘few’ 26. There are also a couple of descriptions of Ezra himself that might be considered relevant (6.35; 13.54-55), but he is clearly a special case, someone considered particularly worthy of receiving special revelations of the sort contained in the book; neither Ezra, nor the limited, ‘worthy’ readership of the ‘wise’, should be equated with the wider group of righteous Israel. 27. Ezra is nonetheless assured elsewhere that those who have lived earlier and died before the end will not thereby miss out on eschatological judgement and reward (5.41-42). 28. Bauckham, ‘Apocalypses’, pp. 168–9. 29. The fact that law-keeping is portrayed as easier for the lost tribes apart from the corruption of the nations might also serve to remind Ezra that it is ultimately human corruption that makes the world the difficult place that it has become; apart from it, the ways of the earth still testify to the ways of the creator. A similar theme might lie behind the location of Ezra’s conversion in a field of flowers apart from humankind and his odd diet of flowers that prepares him for visions of the glorious city (linked elsewhere in the book to paradise). Ezra’s audience is not expected to be able to separate themselves in this way, but the implicit natural theology underlying this (and more explicitly evident in Uriel’s speeches) should encourage them that law-obedience is properly part of the order of creation. For an extended discussion of this theme, see my Creation, Nature and Hope.

110

This World and the World to Come

who will be saved in the end constitute a much greater number than he has appreciated.30 As we observed earlier, many scholars understandably emphasize the rigorousness of the standards to which the righteous are apparently held in 4 Ezra. What is finally required if, in the strikingly legal language of 7.94, the creator is to testify of the saved that ‘while they were alive they kept the law that was given them in trust’? The law is obviously central, as is evident not only from the descriptions of the righteous (and the wicked) but in the crucial importance assigned to its restoration by Ezra in the final episode (14.19-26, 45). The strongest statement of what faithfulness to the law looks like comes in 7.89, where those who will be delivered are said to have ‘kept the law of the Lawgiver perfectly’. Does this mean that perfect law-obedience is required for salvation? Although many interpreters have assumed that this is what is meant, it seems unlikely given the diversity of ways in which the righteous can be described elsewhere in 4 Ezra. In 7.89, the author of 4 Ezra is simply echoing a common biblical way of talking about the perfection, sincerity and blamelessness (Heb. Mymt) of the righteous (see esp. Pss. 15.2; 37.18; 84.12; 101; cf. Gen. 6.9; 17.1). In contrast to the nations who listen to soothsayers and diviners, Israelites are to remain Mymt with the Lord their God (Deut. 18.13). Psalm 119, which begins with such language (‘happy are those whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the Lord’) and regularly returns to it, sounds indeed like just the sort of prayer one might expect of the ‘converted’ Ezra (and perhaps author) of 4 Ezra. It is precisely here that comparisons with the Apostle Paul can lead commentators astray. To whatever extent Paul’s understanding of Judaism came to be shaped by a profound sense of humankind’s inability to keep the law, the author of 4 Ezra – though wrestling with related questions and similarly concerned with individual responsibility – reaches different conclusions in the end (and is not finally concerned, as Paul is, with the relationship between Jew and Gentile). Further evidence of this comes in the easy link between ‘faith’ and ‘works’ in 4 Ezra’s descriptions of the righteous. Stone observes that these terms are ‘not very clearly differentiated and are used interchangeably’.31 This can be seen, for example, by comparing 6.5, where the righteous are said to have stored up ‘treasures of faith’, with 7.77, where they have stored up ‘treasures of works’. As Stone also points out, faith (or faithfulness) is in places considered the primary virtue of the righteous in 4 Ezra, ‘the obverse of the common indictment of scorning or denying the Most High’.32 It is in fact instructive in this light to compare these portraits of the righteous with the portraits of the wicked, with those who ‘scorn’ the Most High and reject his law. 30. There is a hint at the greater number of the saved (even if they remain relatively few) already in 4.34, where Ezra’s concerns for himself are contrasted with God’s concerns for the ‘many’, who in the context must be equivalent to the righteous who are described in what follows. 31. Stone, Fourth Ezra, p. 296. 32. Stone, Fourth Ezra, p. 296; cf. p. 158 n. 108.



The Few Who Obtain Mercy

111

The wicked in 4 Ezra are not those who have simply erred in their attempt to keep the law, those who have tried to be righteous but have not managed to be perfect. The wicked are those who are fundamentally opposed to God and his law. Apart from Ezra’s laments, which we have already seen are not entirely representative of the author’s final outlook (and especially not in their suggestion that the evil heart makes law obedience impossible; cf. 7.92), the closest that 4 Ezra comes to affirming a more legalistic notion in its descriptions of the unrighteous might be in 7.72. Here the reason that those who live on earth are punished is because, ‘though they had understanding, they committed iniquity; and though they received the commandments, they did not keep them; and though they obtained the law, they dealt unfaithfully with what they received’. But other passages in the third episode make it clear that this unfaithfulness represents a more thorough-going opposition to God. Thus, this same group of the unrighteous is described as those who ‘spoke against’ the Lord (v. 22), ‘proposed to themselves wicked frauds’ and ‘declared that the Most High does not exist’ (v. 23); ‘they scorned his law, and denied his covenants; they have been unfaithful to his statutes and have not performed his works’ (v. 24). Similarly strong – or stronger – language is used in 7.37, 7.79-87, 8.56-60 and 9.9-12. In some of these texts, it is primarily the nations that are in view; in others, unfaithful Israelites; but one of the themes of 4 Ezra, as we have seen, is that both are equally culpable before God. Those of Israel who have rejected God and his law have essentially opted out of Israel and become like the nations, and so the judgement of them both can be described together. Central to this is the notion that all individuals face the same basic decision and the same battle to overcome the evil inclination (7.92). This is a contest in which they have been given, in the benefits of creation and supremely in the law, everything that is necessary for life and flourishing (cf. 7.21; 8.60; 9.10, 19). The charge to all is thus the same as that which Moses gave Israel: ‘Choose for yourself life, that you may live’ (4 Ezra 7.129; cf. 7.21; Deut. 5.33; 30.15, 19). Shannon Burkes argues that whereas ‘the deuteronomic command had been directed to a national audience and promised national survival, now [in 4 Ezra] it urges the rare individual to acquire immortality’.33 But it is not necessary to posit such a sharp contrast. As Stone points out, the emphasis on reward or punishment of the conduct of individuals who make up the nation is not so alien to the biblical tradition, and the essential difference remains primarily in the eschatological orientation of 4 Ezra.34 More generally, we have already observed that 4 Ezra’s focus on individual responsibility does not mean a lack of interest in Israel as a nation or a failure to affirm her unique covenant status. Despite the notion (apparently held by both Ezra and Uriel) that all peoples have some access to the law (and that some Gentiles perhaps have even managed to keep it; cf. 3.36), the 33. Shannon Burkes, ‘“Life” Redefined: Wisdom and Law in Fourth Ezra and Second Baruch’, CBQ 63 (2001), pp. 55–71 (59). 34. Cf. Stone, Fourth Ezra, p. 436.

112

This World and the World to Come

law was given particularly to Israel so that the people of Israel might have life; and there is no hint that anyone outside of Israel is actually saved in the end. The relationship between Israel’s election, law-obedience and salvation in 4 Ezra is best summarized by Bauckham: To suppose that for 4 Ezra God gives the righteous eschatological salvation not because they are members of his elect people but because, regardless of their corporate affiliation, they have individually merited salvation, is to pose a false alternative. God gives salvation to those members of his elect people who have kept the terms of the covenant and so merit the salvation promised in the covenant … What God does not do, according to 4 Ezra, is exercise mercy to Israelite sinners by withholding judgment from them.35

But if Bauckham is correct about this limitation of God’s mercy in 4 Ezra, just what role – if any – does God’s mercy play in salvation? The emphasis in 4 Ezra on individual responsibility and the limitations of the blessings of the age to come to those of Israel who ‘choose life’ and live in accordance with the law raises the question of whether – as a number of interpreters have suggested – it is only the law that remains in this age to guide individuals towards life in the age to come. This returns us to Uriel’s partial condescension to Ezra’s plea that God have mercy on the undeserving. The fact that the divine voice acknowledges to Ezra that ‘some things you have spoken rightly’36 and then suggests that God rejoices ‘over the creation of the righteous, over their pilgrimage also, and their salvation, and their receiving their reward’ (8.39) leaves open the possibility that the salvation of the righteous remains the work of God’s mercy (even if not all of those whom Ezra wants to be are saved). This possibility is further suggested by 9.21-22, where the divine voice claims, in light of the peril into which human corruption plunged his world, ‘I saw and spared some with great difficulty’, saving one grape out of a cluster; and of this grape and plant that is saved, he says it is ‘with much labour I have perfected them’. If elsewhere the emphasis is entirely on human responsibility for choosing life and keeping the law, here is a glimpse (admittedly a rare one in 4 Ezra) of the picture from the perspective of God’s involvement in the salvation and perfection of the righteous. Ezra emphasizes this too in his description of how God nurtures those whom he creates and guides them in his mercy (8.8-14, esp. 11-12). Though the angel would reject Ezra’s logic that this means God ought not to destroy any of those whom he has created, it seems clear that God’s involvement in the creation, instruction, guidance and salvation of the righteous is an assumption shared by both Ezra and Uriel. There is, moreover, the possibility of repentance, which of course depends upon the notion that God is merciful to those who turn to him. Prayers for the unrighteous and repentance are strictly ruled out on the day of judgement 35. Bauckham, ‘Apocalypses’, p. 173. 36. The Ethiopic and the Georgian versions indicate that Ezra’s plea receives further affirmation at 8.40, where they read, ‘As you have spoken, so shall it be’, although the Latin has the first person (and the Syriac could support either reading).



The Few Who Obtain Mercy

113

(7.82, 105, 112-15), but the clear implication of the contrast made in these passages between the present and the future is that in the present age ‘the opportunity of repentance’ is yet ‘open’ (9.11) and those who wish can still ‘make a good repentance so that they may live’ (7.82). This possibility must temper, at least, the strong emphasis elsewhere on the rigorous obedience required of the righteous, and it suggests that God’s mercy extends even through the present corrupt age. Most obviously, the salvation that is finally obtained by the righteous – including the defeat of the nations and their salvation within the land – is something wholly given by God, accomplished solely through him and his pre-existent Messiah. It is not contingent upon human action. Although there remains space even within this corrupt world-age for the righteous to ‘make [God’s] glory to prevail now’ (7.60), the hope of the ‘whole earth’ ultimately lies entirely in the ‘judgement and mercy of him who made it’ (11.46). Israel is assured that the Most High has kept her ‘in remembrance’ and has not forgotten her struggle (12.46-47). In the end, God will act decisively on her behalf. For those who do as Ezra tells them, who ‘rule over [their] minds and discipline [their] hearts’, they can be confident that they will ‘obtain mercy’. 6. Conclusion Obedience is clearly required of Israel if individuals are to participate in the blessings of the salvation finally given by God; and the emphasis throughout 4 Ezra is on the profound responsibility of those who have been given the law to keep it. Nonetheless this responsibility can be expressed variously, even within the same passage, as perfect law-obedience, as having faith/being faithful or as making a fundamental choice to accept God’s offer of life, a choice that orientates one’s life to his covenant and results in perseverance and faithfulness. For such righteous ones as these, salvation is assured, because at the predetermined time, God will act on behalf of his people, restoring and renewing individual, nation and cosmos. God’s activity is not limited to the end, however, because already in the law and in creation he has given all that is needed for life, and even in the present age he remains involved in the pilgrimage of the righteous. At least in this sense, 4 Ezra is not so far removed from the emphasis in ‘covenantal nomism’ on the way in which God’s mercy precedes human obedience. Bauckham is also surely right that the remnant theology that underlies 4 Ezra – the notion that not all of ethnic Israel can automatically expect to be saved, but only those who continue in obedience to the law – is not necessarily as unique as is sometimes suggested. Nonetheless, 4 Ezra is a striking text for the ways in which it wrestles with the difficulty of such obedience and with the fate of the many, even of Israel, who reject God’s offer of life. Its uniqueness resides less perhaps in its soteriology per se than in its dramatic portrayal of the profound challenges and unanswerable questions that attend a corrupt age in which the truth so often remains hidden.

Chapter 7

On the Other Side of Disaster: Soteriology in 2 Baruch Daniel M. Gurtner This essay seeks to examine the subject of soteriology or ‘salvation’ broadly conceived by 2 Baruch. The difficulties are intrinsic, for it presumes that the book has a ‘soteriology’ – a Christian term sometimes employed anachronistically with literature of the Second Temple period. Our object, then, will be to examine the text itself, looking for the plan and purpose of the book, and how any idea of ‘salvation’ is conceived. Here, methodologically, we are casting our nets rather broadly within an eschatological realm and consider any concepts such as ‘Paradise’ and afterlife, a heavenly Jerusalem, a restoration for God’s people, and the ‘world to come’ all within the scheme of the book – generally any subject that is typically associated with soteriology will be gathered through a comprehensive study of the book. A synthesis of this data may help discern if and how the concept of soteriology – broadly conceived – is addressed within 2 Baruch’s overall framework. Richard Bauckham’s observation that for 2 Baruch ‘salvation is to be found not in this transient world, but in the eternal age to come’,1 is an important starting place. It requires us to consider how 2 Baruch viewed the present world and its expectations for the world to come. After some orientation to the book of 2 Baruch, we will address this theme, articulate what Baruch’s conception of the eschatological blessing of salvation is, and the nature of acquiring it in the world to come.

1. ‘Apocalypses’, in Justification and Variegated Nomism. Volume I. The Complexities of Second Temple Judaism (eds D. A. Carson, P. T. O’Brien, and M. A. Seifrid; WUNT, 2.140; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001), pp. 135–87 (177). Several suggest that obedience to the Law and the commandments is the main message of 2 Baruch, ‘since a life lived according to the Law will secure resistance to affliction in the corruptible world, a positive outcome to God’s judgment and subsequently redemption in the other world’. Liv Ingeborg Lied, The Other Lands of Israel: Imaginations of the Land in 2 Baruch (JSJSup, 129; Leiden: Brill, 2008), p. 2.



On the Other Side of Disaster

115

1. Introduction2 Second Baruch is a Jewish pseudepigraphon dating from shortly after the destruction of the Jerusalem temple in 70 ce.3 Second Baruch’s purpose is to exhort the people of God to adhere faithfully to the Law despite the thenpresent crisis, using the Babylonian destruction of 587/6 bce as a backdrop for its exhortations. Bauckham summarizes the book’s message cogently: ‘since God has not abandoned his covenant with Israel, it is imperative that Israel keep the Law in order to benefit from the covenant promises’.4 Indeed, there is an eternal reward awaiting the faithful in the world to come (cf. 15.8). There will also be a true temple and city (cf. 31.2–32.6) whose destruction, is the fundamental problem the book resolves. The city which God promised never to forget or forsake (Isa 49:16 quoted in 4:2), the city whose glorious restoration the prophets predicted, is not the earthly Jerusalem at all, but the heavenly Zion, prepared before the creation of humanity, preserved in heaven for the faithful to enter in the age to come (4:1-6). The eternal dwelling of God with his people was never intended to be the temple that, forsaken by God, has fallen to their enemies, but rather the heavenly temple.5

Second Baruch is extant in two sections: an apocalypse (2 Baruch 1–77) and an epistle (2 Baruch 78–87), which we take as a single coherent unit with the same provenance.6 The text of the Apocalypse (2 Baruch 1–77) is extant in full in a single, Syriac manuscript (7a1), which remains the best and earliest full text of the Apocalypse.7 This manuscript was itself translated from Greek,8 and scholars have debated a Semitic original behind the Greek. Also extant are excerpts from 2 Baruch 12–14 in Greek on a single fragment9 and a Latin 2. For a recent survey of introductory material, see Daniel M. Gurtner, Second Baruch: A Critical Edition of the Syriac Text (ed. J. H. Charlesworth; JCTCRS, 5; London: T&T Clark, 2009), pp. 1–27. 3. See Daniel M. Gurtner, ‘The “Twenty-Fifth Year of Jeconiah” and the Date of 2 Baruch’, JSP 18.1 (2008), pp. 23–32. 4. Bauckham, ‘Apocalypses’, p. 176. 5. Bauckham, ‘Apocalypses’, pp. 177–8. 6. Following Mark F. Whitters, The Epistle of Second Baruch: A Study in Form and Message (JSPSup, 42; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003). 7. The manuscript is Bibliotheca Ambrosiana B. 21 Ins, in Milan, folios 257f–265b, #7a1. It dates from the sixth or seventh century. A. F. J. Klijn, ‘2 (Syriac Apocalypse of) Baruch’, OTP 1.615. Also extant are several Syriac lectionaries. An Arabic version is also extant, though it is thought to be a free rendering of the Syriac. 8. The superscription to the primary manuscript witness of 2 Baruch reads: ‘The book of the revelation of Baruch, son of Neriah. Translated from Greek into Syriac’. Whether the Greek itself is derived from a Semitic origin is the subject of some debate. See most recently the discussion in James R. Davila, ‘(How) Can We Tell if a Greek Apocryphon or Pseudepigraphon has been Translated from Hebrew or Aramaic?’ JSP 15.1 (2005), pp. 3–61. 9. Verso (11.1–13.2) and recto (13.11–14.3) from the Oxyrhynchus papyri cache. It dates to the fourth or fifth century. Whitters, The Epistle of Second Baruch, p. 8, and

116

This World and the World to Come

excerpt, perhaps translated from the Greek.10 The Epistle of 2 Baruch (chs 78–87) is extant also in full in 7a1, 35 additional Syriac manuscripts11 that do not vary in wording significantly for our purposes. The book’s interest in eschatological matters makes it an important voice in the discussion of soteriology in early Judaism. ‘Salvation’ in 2 Baruch is of a particular kind and is best discussed in its distinct yet overlapping categories. Therefore we will begin with a much more broad topic in 2 Baruch, its eschatology, and attempt to locate soteriological elements within that broad orientation to the book’s outlook as a whole prior to locating elements particular to its view of salvation. 2. The eschatological orientation of 2 Baruch12 The profound eschatological orientation of 2 Baruch serves its rhetorical function to exhort the remnant of Israel to persevere in their faithfulness to the Lord, despite the current tribulations. The overriding eschatological shape of the book is seen from early on, when the Lord tells Baruch that he will be shown what will happen at the end of days (10.3; cf. 83.7).13 God announces to Baruch that the days are coming, and are very near, when God will visit the world (20.1-2, 6; cf. 24.4; 48.33-37; 54.17; 82.2). This is the end of days, also described as ‘the completion of all things’ (83.23; cf. 27.14-15; 49.5; 83.6; 85.12) which is already prepared (21.17), in which God’s power may be made known to those who think God’s forbearance is weakness (21.20). At that time the Most High will bring about a new world (44.12; cf. 32.6; 83.1) and accomplish good works (69.4). A significant challenge in Baruch’s eschatology is discerning the outlay of its sequence. The subject has been addressed extensively by Liv Ingeborg Lied, who demonstrates that integral to 2 Baruch’s eschatological orientation is its n. 17. Cf. A.-M. Denis, Concordance grecque des pseudépigraphes d’Ancien Testament. Concordance, corpus des textes, indices (Louvain: Peeters, 1987), p. 905; P. M. Bogaert, Apocalypse de Baruch, introduction, tradition du Syriaque et commentaire (SC, 144, 145; Paris: Cerf, 1969), pp. 1.40–43; K. Aland, Reportorium der griechischen christlichen Papyri 1. Biblische Papyri: Altest Testament, Neues Testament, Varia, Apokryphen (PTS, 18; Berlin/New York, 1976), p. 367. 10. The one surviving Latin fragment of 2 Baruch is a single citation found in Cyprian, Test. 3.29, which corresponds to 2 Bar. 48.36, 33–34. 11. See, most recently, Whitters, Epistle of Second Baruch, 4–23; more comprehensively for the Epistle of 2 Baruch, R. H. Charles, The Apocalypse of Baruch Translated from the Syriac. Edited with Introduction, Notes and Indices (London: A. & C. Black, 1896); B. Violet, Die Apokalypsen des Esra und des Baruch in deutscher Gestalt (GCS, 32; Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1924), pp. LVI–LXII; Bogaert, Commentaire, pp. 1.67–72. 12. Translations throughout are from Gurtner, Second Baruch, full information available within note 2 above. 13. The exhortation draws from prophetic traditions of the Hebrew Bible in anticipation of the coming of the end of days (Hab. 2.3; cf. also 2 Bar. 5.5; 14.1; 54.1; 83.1).



On the Other Side of Disaster

117

assessment of the past, frustration with the present crisis, and anticipation of the future reward for the faithful.14 Lied outlines these three phases clearly.15 The first phase is the period of the first (Solomonic) temple through the time of the Herodian temple. Second is the time from the fall of the (Herodian) temple to the onset of the Messianic age. Third is what Lied calls the ‘time of redemption’, which extends from the establishment of the Messianic reign to the final actualization of the other world. This time, she shows, includes the Messianic era that restores and transforms the world, as well as descriptions of resurrection, judgment, and the appropriation of the other world. In this scheme, the Messianic era ‘has one foot in each world’, culminating in the ultimate ‘salvation’ for God’s people.16 The challenge for Baruch’s readers is that they live between the two worlds, and it is this tension that drives the ‘eschatological rhetoric’ of the book.17 Though Baruch’s readers live in the present world, they are told that the future world was created for and promised to Israel (14.13; 21.25; 83.5; cf. 4 Ezra 6.55-59). Similarly, Murphy rightfully claims, ‘The two worlds are being described in terms of a human quality – mortality. Baruch, and eventually all the righteous, are to escape from the sphere of mortality to one of immortality’.18 It is this sphere of immortality that constitutes Baruch’s conception of soteriology, an otherworldly reward for the righteous attained at the climax of his eschatological sequence. We are now in a position to trace these stages of Baruch’s eschatological strata in order to delineate his articulation of the character and nature of his soteriology. 3. The season(s) of tribulation and beyond Baruch is told that the coming of the end of days will be indicated to the inhabitants of the earth by the onset of eschatological tribulations (25.1, 3; cf. 13.3). In their troubles God’s people will think that he has forgotten them and they will abandon hope. At this point ‘the time will then awaken’ (25.4). When Baruch inquires about the duration of the impending eschatological tribulation (26.1; cf. 25.3, 4; 26.1; 51.14; 63.9; 67.5), the Lord responds with a cryptic description of the vision of time in 12 parts, each with a description of the respective tribulation to be endured (27.1-13); ‘this is the end of times’ (27.15). The tribulation is described in some detail. It will

14. Lied, Other Lands, p. 3. 15. More correctly, she sees this as having corresponding ‘spaces’, which does not intersect our discussion here. See D. M. Gurtner, Review of Liv Ingeborg Lied, The Other Lands of Israel, JJS 61.2 (2010), p. 355. 16. Lied, Other Lands, p. 4. 17. Lied, Other Lands, p. 3. 18. F. J. Murphy, The Structure and Meaning of Second Baruch (SBLDS, 78; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985), p. 56.

118

This World and the World to Come

affect all the earth (29.1), but particularly those outside the ‘land’. God will protect only those found in those days in ‘this land’ (29.2).19 During this season of tribulation ‘everything that is will become the prey of corruption, and it will be as though it had never been’ (31.5; see Syb. Or. 3.310). At this time ‘the Mighty One will shake the whole creation’ (32.1). The destruction of Jerusalem and its temple are, of course, integral parts of this tribulation. Strikingly, it is revealed that it is in fact God’s angels who are instructed to destroy Jerusalem, and not Israel’s enemies (7.1-2). Readers learn that God has in fact abandoned the temple that he once preserved (8.2; cf. 32.3). The audience can hardly miss the significance of this statement, for it anticipates that the current situation of a temple-less Jerusalem is but temporary. We will revisit this important issue below. The most immediate tribulation for Baruch’s readers is the destruction of the temple, which is described in a highly symbolic vision (36.1-10) in which a cedar is rebuked for its excessive pride (cf. 4 Ezra 4.12-19) and warned by a vine that its time has passed and its hour has come (36.9). The question of the identity of the cedar becomes acute in 36.10, where it is exhorted to recline in anguish and rest in torment until your ‘last time’ comes in which it will return and be tormented even more (36.10). Then the cedar burns, and the vine grows (37.1). Helpfully, the Lord provides an interpretation (38.1-4) in which he explains that the kingdom that once destroyed Zion will itself be destroyed and made subject to those after it (39.3).20 This kingdom will also have a completion to its time (39.7), after which the reign of ‘my Messiah’ will be revealed (39.7). This reign is described as like the fountain of the vine which will uproot the multitude. The last leader of this enemy will be convicted of his wicked deeds by the Messiah (cf. Pss. Sol. 2.24-35; 4 Ezra 12.32; 13.37), who will put him to death and protect the remainder of God’s chosen people (40.2).21 The Messiah will then reign forever, ‘until the world of corruption comes to an end, and until the aforementioned times are fulfilled’ (40.3; cf. Gal. 4.4; Tob. 14.5; 4 Ezra 11.44). Yet further eschatological upheavals will occur, including a ‘greater trial’ when the Mighty One renews his creation (32.6; cf. 1 En. 45.4-5). There will be the appearance of the Behemoth (cf. 4 Ezra 6.49-52) and the Leviathan (29.4). In this new season of tribulation, Israel will again ‘fall into distress’ and be in danger of ‘perishing together’ (68.2). These sufferings occur ‘in order that, in the last times, you may be found worthy of your fathers’ (78.5). Such endurance births ‘eternal hope’ (78.6) and, in the end, God, ‘with much mercy … will assemble again those who were dispersed’ (78.7). So Baruch 19. Similarly LAB 7.4; 2 Bar. 71.1. 20. This will be followed by a third (39.4) and fourth kingdom (39.5). Klijn (‘2 (Syriac Apocalypse of) Baruch’, OTP 1.633) suggests Babylon, Persia, Greece, and Rome are meant (cf. Dan. 7), though Bogaert (Commentaire, p. 1.73) suggests only Rome is in view for the fourth kingdom. 21. Lied (Other Lands, p. 185) contends that the Messiah’s reign ‘saves the remnant and overcomes the evil forces of the wicked world’. Moreover, she suggests the Messianic reign prepares Israel for life in the world to come (p. 193).



On the Other Side of Disaster

119

anticipates that, after the season of tribulation, a season of restoration dawns (see §4 below). This season is a time of God’s redemption (‫)ܦܘܪܩܢܐ‬, which ‘is not as far away as before’ (23.7).22 Baruch exhorts his hearers in light of the imminence of this redemption in the form of a promise, ‘[I]f you endure and persevere in his fear and do not forget his Law, the times will change over you for good,23 and you will see the consolation of Zion’ (44.7).24 Unfortunately, he does not articulate what that ‘consolation’ will be. However, he does assert that ‘whatever is now is nothing, but that which will be is very great’ (44.8). This suggests to Baruch’s readers that the present season of tribulation pales in comparison to the eschatological bliss to those who persevere and do not forget the Law. Here we catch a glimpse of Baruch’s conception of soteriology as an eschatological blessing for the righteous observers of the Law. Baruch is then given a view of what that eschatological bliss looks like when he, like Moses, is shown the ‘end of time’ (59.4) and the ‘blueprint of Zion … in the pattern of which the present sanctuary was made’ (59.4). He is also shown many other things, including ‘the greatness of Paradise’, and ‘the completion of the ages’, and ‘the beginning of the day of judgment’ (59.8), and other things of the future: worlds which have yet to come (59.9), the place of vengeance and the place of ‘faith’ and ‘hope’ (59.10). He is shown ‘future torment’ and the ‘changes of the times’ (59.11). With this knowledge, Baruch offers words of consolation to his listeners (81.1, 4, 5; cf. 85.8)25 that there awaits eschatological blessings for the righteous after the season of tribulation. It is important to recall that while the seasons of tribulation are difficult indeed, Baruch’s primary objective is to exhort his readers to look beyond them, to the eschatological blessings to be had. When all the tribulation is accomplished, God announces that the ‘Messiah will begin to be revealed’ (24.3; cf. Pss. Sol. 17.23ff.; 2 Thess. 1.7) and the onset of eschatological reward will commence (cf. 72.1-6). For it is after the season of tribulation (‫ܡܢ ܒܬܪ ܗܠܝܢ‬, 30.1) that Baruch anticipates a time of the ‘appearance’26 of God’s Messiah who will ‘return in glory’ (30.1).27 We will revisit Messianic considerations in due 22. On the coming near of the day of redemption, cf. 1 En. 51.2; 2 Bar. 82.2; Lk. 21.28; 1 Pet. 4.7. 23. The same promise is made in 2 Bar. 46.5–6; 84.2; 85.4; cf. Jub. 1.22-23; 5.17; 23.26; T. Jud. 26.1. 24. Charles (The Apocalypse of Baruch, p. 70) says this refers to its restoration (citing 2 Bar. 81.1, 4; see also 2 Bar. 46.6; 77.12). 25. Charles (The Apocalypse of Baruch, p. 124) indicates that this refers to the restoration of Zion (cf. 2 Bar. 44.7; 81.4; 82.1). 26. Klijn (‘2 (Syriac Apocalypse of) Baruch’, OTP 1.631) comments that the Syriac ‫ ܡܐܬܝܬ‬corresponds to the Greek parousi/a (Mt. 24.37). Cf. Charles, The Apocalypse of Baruch, p. 56; 2 Cor. 7.6, 7; 10.10; 2 Thess. 2.9; 2 Macc. 15.21. 27. It is unclear whether reference to his ‘return’, presumably to earth or at least to Jerusalem, suggests he was there previously, or whether this suggests pre-existence. Bogaert (Commentaire, p. 1.416) suggests that 2 Baruch portrays the days of the Messiah as a precursor to the world that is to come. See further Loren T. Stuckenbruck, ‘Messianic Ideas

120

This World and the World to Come

course. For the present, it is worth noting that his coming occurs after a season of eschatological tribulation. With the passing of the tribulation, Baruch exhorts his readers that the things of the old, corruptible world will fade away and vanish unremembered (44.9). It is the incorruptible that should ‘be the object of desire’ for it is an era ‘that does not pass away’ (44.11). This is the consolation they are to sense amidst their tragedy. That is, the consolation Baruch offers to his readers is one of hope for the faithful that they will be recipients of the eschatological bliss which constitutes Baruch’s conception of soteriology. This is best articulated in terms of the alternative, ultimate destinations Baruch sees for the righteous and the wicked respectively after the season of tribulation. 4. The fate of the wicked and the righteous These generalities about the end are often couched in specific language regarding the fate of the righteous and of the wicked. At times Baruch suggests their respective fates will be experienced simultaneously. For instance, Baruch says God’s ‘mercy … is coming and the completion of his judgment is not far away’ (82.2b). Some will experience no mercy but depart in the torment of fire28 (44.12a, 15; cf. 68.3; 72.1), while others will inherit that time (44.12–13) and the world (44.15) spoken about previously (cf. 72.1). It is the vanquished who have acquired ‘treasuries of wisdom’,29 ‘stores of understanding’. They have ‘not withdrawn from mercy’ and ‘preserved the truth of the Law’ (44.14). It is these who Baruch says ‘will be saved’ (‫)ܢܬܦܪܩܘܢ‬. Here the ‘salvation’ in view is one of deliverance from a violent death, though elsewhere, as we will see, the concept carries an otherworldly connotation. The advent of these concurrent eschatological events is inaugurated by the arrival of God’s Messiah, when ‘all who have fallen asleep in hope of him will rise’ (30.1; cf. 4 Ezra 7.29). Furthermore, the multitude of the righteous will be gathered and seen together, rejoicing ‘in one assembly’ (30.2-3). There will be rejoicing, for they will know that it is the anticipated ‘end of times’ (30.3). Yet the souls of the wicked will waste away (30.4) and increase in their suffering because they will know that ‘their torment has come and their ruin has arrived’ (30.5). Such ‘ruin’ is the lot of the wicked, which Baruch describes to a limited extent. He anticipates that in the end of days the ‘books will be opened in which are written the sins of all who have sinned’ (24.1a).30 God will in the Apocalyptic and Related Literature of Early Judaism’, in The Messiah in the Old and New Testaments (ed. S. E. Porter; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), pp. 90–113 (108–12). 28. On the fate of the unbelieving, cf. 4 Ezra 7.36 (‘furnace of Gehenna’), 1 En. 90.26-29 (‘fiery abyss’), 1 En. 100.9 (‘blazing flames’), T. Zeb. 10.3; 4 Macc. 12.12 (‘eternal fire’). Cf. also 2 Bar. 48.43; 59.2; 64.7; 85.13; LAB 38.4; 63.4. 29. Various treasuries are mentioned in 4 Ezra, including ‘faith’ (4 Ezra 6.5), ‘works’ (4 Ezra 7.77), and ‘wisdom’ (4 Ezra 14.47). 30. On the opening of books, see Dan. 7.10; Rev. 20.12; 4 Ezra 6.20; 1 En. 90.20; F. W. Schiefer, ‘Sünde und Schuld in der Apokalypse des Baruch’, ZWT 45 (1902), pp. 327–39.



On the Other Side of Disaster

121

‘visit’ the wicked quickly (54.17; 83.2) and examine the secret thoughts of people (83.3) when ‘all things come to judgment’ (83.7).31 Vengeance will be taken upon those who have done wickedness (54.21), whose fate is the fires of judgment (44.12a, 15). For it is God who blots out those who sin ‘from among his own’ (54.22). There is, then, relatively little information regarding the fate of the wicked. Instead, Baruch attends to exhorting his readers toward faithfulness, and therefore draws more attention to the eschatological rewards for the righteous in both general and specific terms. In his role as one offering consolation to his listeners, Baruch is much more attentive to the rewards to the righteous than the condemnation of the wicked. It serves his rhetorical purposes to exhort Israel amidst her eschatological tribulations in light of the loss of her temple. Baruch’s most explicit ‘soteriological’ language is used with respect to deliverance, employed initially of deliverance from exile, or political restoration of God’s people being punished for their iniquities. During the reign of Hezekiah (63.4) ‘Zion was saved (‫ )ܐܬ̤ܦܪܩܬ‬and Jerusalem was delivered (‫)ܐܬ̤ܦܨܝܬ‬. Israel also was delivered (‫ )ܐܬܚܪܪ‬from tribulations’ (63.9). Similarly, Israel’s tragedy in Baruch’s time will be overturned: ‘For the time has come when Jerusalem also will be delivered (‫)ܕܬܫܬܠܡ‬32 up for a time’ (6.9; cf. 4.1; 5.3). Yet deliverance transcends the temporal experiences of Israel either in the past or the present, and, as in other apocalyptic Jewish texts, takes on a decidedly eschatological, otherworldly character in the rhetorical strategy of the book. The eschatological rewards in 2 Baruch are sometimes generally and sometimes specifically described. The lot of the righteous is variously depicted in terms of eschatological blessing (46.6) or reward to come (54.16; cf. 4 Ezra 8.83). Such rewards are said to be ‘a crown with great glory’ (15.8),33 a ‘great light’ (48.50). God will glorify the faithful according to their faithfulness (54.21).34 Baruch announces the promise of the reward of Moses and Aaron ‘to those who believe’ (59.2). Similarly, King Josiah is said to have received an ‘eternal reward’ (66.6) for his zeal for the Mighty One and the Law. It is for him and those like him that the ‘the honourable glories’ were created and prepared (66.7). So Baruch exhorts his readers to be like them, that they too ‘will receive from the Mighty One everything which has been stored up and preserved for [them]’35 (84.6). 31. 2 Bar. 20.4. 32. The expression is used conversely where God ‘delivered up’ (‫ )ܘܡܫܠܡ‬his land to Israel’s enemies (3.5). 33. Cf. 1 Pet. 5.4: ‘And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory’; Isa. 62.3: ‘You will also be a crown of beauty in the hand of the LORD, And a royal diadem in the hand of your God’; Ezek. 16.12: ‘I also put a ring in your nostril, earrings in your ears, and a beautiful crown on your head’; cf. Ezek. 23.42. On ‘crown of glory’ see 1QS 4.7; cf. 1Q28b 4.3. 34. For a discussion of faith, belief, and righteousness in 2 Baruch, see Charles, The Apocalypse of Baruch, p. 95. Cf. Hab. 2.4. 35. There are different ways to render the Syriac ‫ ܿܪ̣ܣܝܡ ܘܢܛܝܪ ܠܟܘܢ‬. Charles has ‘laid up and reserved for you’; Brokington, ‘appointed and reserved for you’; Klijn, ‘prepared and … preserved for you’.

122

This World and the World to Come

Specific eschatological blessings are presented in familiar Second Temple terms. These are interspersed throughout the book but can be pieced together with a fair degree of clarity. First, there is reference to afterlife and the world to come. Second Baruch uses a variety of common terms to refer to physical death, such as one going to his father (3.3), ‘according to the way of all the earth’ (44.2; cf. 48.12), sleeping in peace (11.4; 21.24; cf. 23.3),36 or delivered from this world of suffering (51.14; cf. 48.50).37 The promise of afterlife was ‘planted’ at the time of Abraham (57.2), and provides hope for Baruch’s readers (cf. 14.10-11; 21.13). Baruch further exhorts his readers: … the righteous rightly hope for the end. And without fear they leave from this habitation because they have a store of (good) deeds laid up in treasuries. Therefore, they leave this world without fear and are trusting with joy (that) they will receive the world which you have promised them38 (14.12–13).

Their hope is in an afterlife and the promise of the world to come, which Baruch describes in some rather striking language. In that world, the righteous will no longer be aged by time (51.9). They will ‘dwell in the heights of that world’, ‘be made like angels’,39 ‘be made equal to stars’40 and ‘be changed into any form they desire’ (51.10). The reason for such an exalted experience is that ‘the extents of Paradise will be spread out before them, and the beauty of the majesty of the leaving creatures, which are beneath the throne, will be shown to them’ (51.11; cf. Rev. 4.6; 6.4; 7.11). This is followed by further eschatological blessings: healings, the passing of fear, anguish, and lamentation, and the spread of gladness (73.2). There will be no more death or sudden adversity (73.3). Judgments, condemnations, and the like will be removed (73.4-5), wild beasts will serve people and animals will be subject to a child (73.6; cf. Isa. 11.6-9), and women will no longer have pain in childbearing (73.7). Labourers will not grow weary in their tasks (74.1). There will be a bountiful harvest for the righteous (29.5-7). An eschatological ‘treasury of manna’ (cf. Ps. 78.25; Rev. 2.17) will be eaten by them in that time because they have come to the completion of time (29.8). The Behemoth (cf. 4 Ezra 6.49-52) and the Leviathan (29.4) which are kept until that time, will be food for those who remain (29.4). For that time ‘is the completion of that which is corruptible, and the beginning of that which is incorruptible’ (74.2). The things previously anticipated will occur then and

36. On sleeping in the earth, see 2 Bar. 21.24; Dan. 12.2; 1 Kgs 2.10; 11.21; Isa. 26.19; 4 Ezra 7.32; LAB 3.10; 11.6; 19.12; 35.3; 51.5. 37. ‫ܐܬܦܨܝܘ ܓܝܪ ܡܢ ܗܢܐ ܥܠܡܐ ܕܐܘܠܨܢܐ‬. Elsewhere, Baruch announces that ‘all who have fallen asleep’ in hope of the Messiah will arise at his appearance (2 Bar. 30.1-2; cf. also Eccl. 9.5). 38. For more on the treasuries storing the merits of the righteous, see 24.1b. On the righteous and the world to come, see 2 Bar. 15.7, 8; 44.13, 15; 51.3; 1 En. 102.4. 39. Cf. 1 En. 62.13-16; 104.4; Str-B 1.891. 40. For comparison with the stars, see Dan. 12.3; 1 En. 104.2; 2 En. 66.7; 4 Ezra 7.97, 125; 1 Cor. 15.41; Mt. 13.43; LAB 33.5.



On the Other Side of Disaster

123

there (74.3a). Such rewards are ‘far away from evil things, and near to those which do not die’ (74.3b).41 This breathtaking array of eschatological bliss constitutes the rewards for the righteous and orients readers toward some features of Baruch’s soteriological programme. Yet there are further, more specific aspects to his eschatological rewards that again reflect familiar Second Temple themes. Baruch makes repeated reference to resurrection.42 The Lord tells Baruch that in the end of days the earth will give back its dead (50.2). The graves of the righteous are referred to as ‘the treasuries’ (21.23)43 which served to preserve them, even ‘delivered’ (‫ ;ܕܐܿܫܠܡܬ‬50.2) them, for the end of days (cf. 1 En. 51.1; LAB 3.10; 4 Ezra 7.32). The raised ones will be as they were when they died (cf. Sib. Or. 4.182) and recognizable to those who are alive (50.4).44 Another eschatological blessing awaiting the righteous is the experience of a heavenly Jerusalem.45 For Baruch’s readers who recently experienced the destruction of that city, such imagery would surely have a dramatic impact. God reveals that he showed the heavenly Jerusalem to Adam prior to his sin (4.3), to Abraham (4.4) and Moses on Sinai (4.5).46 The city is currently preserved with God (4.6), and Baruch’s readers are informed that the city destroyed in 70 ce is not the city that God has engraved on the palms of his hands (Isa. 49.16; 2 Bar. 4.2). Instead, it is the heavenly Jerusalem that God had in mind all along, and it is a feature of God’s eschatological blessings for the righteous. In addition to a heavenly Jerusalem, Baruch anticipates a new or at least rebuilt temple. The ‘building of Zion’ will be shaken so that it may be built again (32.2).47 The temple will ‘be renewed in glory and perfected forever’ (32.4). It will not be entirely the same as before (68.6), but its offerings 41. See Bogaert, Commentaire, p. 2.130. 42. In 2 Baruch, as in other Second Temple texts, resurrection is for both the righteous and the wicked. The former will be raised to eschatological blessing, the latter to judgement. cf. Bogerat, Commentaire, p. 1.420; George W. E. Nickelsburg, Resurrection, Immorality, and Eternal Life in Intertestamental Judaism and Early Christianity (HTS, 56; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2nd edn, 2006), pp. 171–4. 43. On the treasury of souls, see LAB 32.13. Charles (The Apocalypse of Baruch, p. 41) comments that these were chambers in which only the souls of the righteous were admitted (4 Ezra 7.80). They were admitted to chambers (4 Ezra 4.35; 7.101) in Sheol (4 Ezra 4.31). They were guarded by angels (1 En. 100.5; 4 Ezra 7.95). The souls were to be restored at the final judgement (2 Bar. 21.3; 30.2; 4 Ezra 7.32, 7.80). 44. The wicked will also be raised, but their appearance will be changed (51.1-2). 45. On the theme of a heavenly Jerusalem, see Bogaert, Commentaire, p. 1.422. Cf. 4 Ezra 8.52, 53; 10.44-59; Wis. 9.8; Gal. 4.26; Heb. 12.22; Rev. 3.12; 21.2, 10; for a heavenly temple, see T. Levi 5.1-7. On ‘Paradise’, see 2 Bar. 51.11; 59.8; 4 Ezra 7.123; 8.52; 2 Cor. 12.4; Rev. 2.7. 46. Cf. Exod. 25.9, 40; LAB 11.15, 19.10. 47. This is surely a reference to the destruction of the temple, which elsewhere Baruch indicates has already occurred (cf. 2 Bar. 31.4; 32.5; 33.2, 3; 35.1). Charles, The Apocalypse of Baruch, p. 58.

124

This World and the World to Come

will be restored, priests returned to their ministries, and Gentiles will come to honour it (68.5; cf. Tob. 14.5-6; 1 En. 89.73, 74). Cultic articles were removed from the destroyed temple by angelic visitors (6.7) and stored in the earth in anticipation of their restored function in the new temple (6.8; cf. 10.19; 80.2; 2 Macc. 2.5). Baruch’s readers are to recognize the nature and tragedy of the temple’s destruction, but also observe that the ashes of the Herodian temple are not the end of the story for cultic worship in Israel. 5. The identity of the wicked and the righteous Baruch asks God about the identity of those who will be so fortunate as to experience the eschatological blessings he describes (41.1, 5-6). In his view, people are divided with respect to how they have or have not observed the covenant and the Law. Throughout, 2 Baruch describes these two groups often in the same sentence in terms of the opposite behaviour and therefore fates which characterize them, as we have seen above (§4). There are many ‘who have separated from your covenant, and thrown off from them the yoke of your Law’48 (41.3). The other group is those ‘who have forsaken their vanities, and fled for refuge beneath your wings’49 (41.4). There are ‘those who believed’ 50 (42.2a), and ‘those who despise’51 (42.2b), or ‘those who have drawn near’52 and ‘those who have withdrawn’ (42.3). Baruch also seems to refer to the inclusion of Gentiles among the righteous.53 This is likely in view of such texts which refer to people who left behind the ‘vanity’ of idolatry, taken shelter under God’s wings (41.4) and taken on the yoke of the Law (cf. 41.3).54 Donaldson concludes that these Gentiles are proselytes who will be included among those who receive eschatological salvation (41.1).55

48. On the ‘yoke’ of the Law, see Acts 15.10; Gal. 5.1; m. Abot 3.5; cf. also Mt. 11.29, 30; Sir. 51.26. 49. Klijn (‘2 (Syriac Apocalypse of) Baruch’, OTP 1.633) suggests proselytes are in view here (so also Charles, The Apocalypse of Baruch, p. 66; cf. 4 Ezra 7.133). For the expression of finding refuge under God’s wings, see Pss. 17.8; 36.8; 57.2; 63.8; Ruth 2.12; Charles, The Apocalypse of Baruch, p. 67. 50. Klijn (‘2 (Syriac Apocalypse of) Baruch’, OTP 1.633) comments that to believe in God is to live according to the Law (cf. 2 Bar. 54.5, 21; 59.2; 4 Ezra 6.27, 29; 9.7-8; 1 En. 47.8). 51. On such destruction of sinners, see 4 Ezra 7.93; 9.9-12; 1 En. 53.2; 56.1-4; 60.6; 69.27; 90.3-10; 102.1-3. 52. This is an expression often associated etymologically with prosh/lutoj. Terence L. Donaldson, Judaism and the Gentiles: Jewish Patterns of Universalism (to 135 ce) (Waco: Baylor University Press, 2007), p. 188. 53. Donaldson, Judaism and the Gentiles, pp. 185–93. 54. Donaldson, Judaism and the Gentiles, p. 188; cf. Ruth 2.12; Deut. 32.21; 1 Kgs 16.13, 26; 2 Kgs 17.15; Jer. 2.5; 8.19; Jon. 2.8. 55. Donaldson, Judaism and the Gentiles, p. 188.



On the Other Side of Disaster

125

Elsewhere Baruch expands upon the distinct groups of the righteous and the wicked. The latter are those who ‘sin’ (48.47a). They transgressed God’s Law and will receive retribution at the day of the Lord (48.47b). They have not subjected themselves to God’s power or loved his Law (54.14) and reject the understanding of the Most High (54.17). Their pride keeps them from knowing the Law (48.40); they deliberately despised it (51.4)56 and have withdrawn from it (42.4; 44.3). By their choices they reject the time of glory and forfeit eschatological bliss (51.16). In the coming days the Mighty One will bring judgment (70.2-10). They will be delivered (‫ )ܢܫܬܠܡܘܢ‬into the hands of God’s servant, the Messiah (70.10) and experience torment (55.7-8). Their wickedness is traced back to Adam’s sin and the troubles it introduced (the black waters; 56.5) which ultimately brought about death (56.6; cf. 48.42-43). Baruch’s description of the identity of the righteous stands in stark contrast.57 The difference between the wicked and the righteous ‘comes down to a fundamental acceptance or rejection of the Law’.58 The righteous are those who ‘make straight [their] ways’ (77.6). They are those who draw near to God (48.19). They will not ‘fall’ as long as they keep God’s statutes (48.22). They find security and safety as a result of Law observance (48.24). Indeed, those who have now been made righteous have been made so by observance of God’s Law (51.3; cf. 15.5; 21.9). For the righteous are defined as ‘those who have been saved by their works’ (‫;ܐܝܠܝܢ ܕܝܢ ܕܐܬ ܦܨܝܘ ܒ̇ܥ̈ܒܕܝܗܘܢ‬ 51.7a; cf. 14.7).59 In the context of 2 Baruch, it would be difficult to see these ‘works’ as something other than observance of the Law.60 Indeed, ‘they have a store of (good) deeds laid up in treasuries’ (24.1; cf. 4 Ezra 4.35; 7.77; Mt. 6.19, 20). For them, ‘the Law has been a hope’ (51.7b). The righteous have understanding, wisdom, and will be changed ‘so that they may be able to acquire and receive the world which does not die, which is then promised 56. Second Baruch 51.4-6 corresponds to Wis. 4.20-5.8 and 1 En. 62–63: the wicked come to judgement, see the exalted righteous whom they formerly persecuted, react to the sight in astonishment, and lament their former sins (Nickelsburg, Resurrection, p. 109). 57. Baruch even addresses the issue of proselytes (41.6; 42). Bauckham compares them with apostate Israelites and observes that ‘the obedience of the apostates before their apostasy is not counted in their favour, while the disobedience of the proselytes before their conversion is not counted against them in the judgment’. Thus, the ‘Israel’ who experiences the soteriological blessings ‘is constituted by those who either remain within the covenant by remaining faithful to the Law or opt into the covenant by subjecting themselves to the Law’. Bauckham, ‘Apocalypses’, p. 179. M. Bird suggests 2 Baruch is similar to Philo in a consistently positive attitude toward proselytes (Crossing Over Sea and Land: Jewish Missionary Activity in the Second Temple Period (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2010), p. 106 and n. 139). 58. Bauckham, ‘Apocalypse’, p. 180. 59. Lied (Other Lands, p. 130) contends that ‘knowledge of the Law and the importance of living by it are what will ultimately save Israel’. 60. Bauckham (‘Apocalypses’, p. 179) suggests that ‘every individual’s participation in that salvation is dependent on his or her continued faithfulness to the covenant through subjection to the Law’.

126

This World and the World to Come

to them’ (51.3, 7c). Yet the knowledge (75.5) and acquisition (75.6) of such things are based solely on the mercies of God. They will be transformed ‘into the splendour of angels’ (51.5) in their eschatological bliss and ‘see marvels in their time’ (51.7d). For them there awaits glory ‘which is kept for them’ (48.49). In their eschatological reward they will see ‘the world which is now invisible to them, and they will behold the time which is now hidden from them’ (51.8). 6. Conclusion Baruch’s soteriological programme is described in terms of eschatological rewards for the righteous. This fits coherently within his rhetorical strategy of exhortation to survivors to be faithful to the Law.61 It seems clear, however, that though the righteous are dependent upon God’s mercy, that mercy is bestowed upon them because of their adequate observance of the Law.62 This must occur even amidst the current crisis. In fact, Baruch exhorts the righteous (52.5) to rejoice in their present sufferings (52.6) and prepare their souls for the world to come. It is prepared for them, their reward (52.7; cf. 48.48-50; 54.16-18). That is, in Baruch’s view, there is eschatological hope for the righteous, those adhering to the Law, on the other side of disaster.

61. In this respect, Bauckham observes, 2 Baruch is not far from the Enoch tradition, where God’s mercy is for the righteous who, though not without sin, live in accordance with the Law and have a storehouse of good deeds. The Law can be kept adequately, though not perfectly. Bauckham, ‘Apocalypses’, p. 180. 62. So also Bauckham, ‘Apocalypses’, p. 182.

Chapter 8

Personal Salvation and Rigorous Obedience: The Soteriology of 2 Enoch Grant Macaskill 1. Introduction A certain amount of caution must be exercised as we consider 2 Enoch in the context of a volume on soteriology and Early Judaism. For one thing, the origins of the book are far from clear and the question remains open as to whether it may fairly be described as either early or Jewish, far less both. For another, the book is highly recensional and great care must be taken to ensure that we recognize the redactional significance of any given reading and how it might relate to an original core text on one hand, and stages of transmission on the other. That said, providing these concerns are properly understood and acknowledged, 2 Enoch can make an interesting contribution to such a volume as this. On the one hand, as I will note below, the evidence as it currently stands suggests that if the book is Jewish at all then it belongs at the margins of the religion, at a point where stories from the Hebrew Bible circulate and the One God is venerated, but where there is little or no evidence for Torah piety as such, even of the distinctive and polemical kind seen in a book like 1 Enoch.1 A study of the soteriology of 2 Enoch, therefore, pushes us to consider what may or may not be deemed to be within the pale of Judaism, forces us to reflect on the adequacy or the limits of our categories and helps us to reflect on the nature of the boundaries between Jew and Gentile. On the other hand, a comparison of the soteriological themes of 2 Enoch to Jewish texts of more certain origin may, in fact, further the discussion about its provenance and as this article is subsequently considered in the wider context of this volume, readers may succeed in identifying clues in this regard that have hitherto escaped scholarship on 2 Enoch. I will argue in what follows that the concept of salvation in 2 Enoch lacks many of the distinctively Jewish features observed in other books discussed

1.

See footnote 23, below.

128

This World and the World to Come

in this volume. Salvation is a matter of the individual securing for himself 2 a state of eschatological blessedness in paradise, in a future great age, through diligent and whole-hearted adherence to the simple ethical code revealed by Enoch. There is no place for Mosaic Torah, for national restoration or for consideration of the fate of Jerusalem and while there are some indications of a community that receives the Enochic revelation, the fate of the individual is ultimately decided by his personal adherence to the patriarch’s teaching. For my part, I am inclined to regard 2 Enoch as the product of a monotheistic group influenced by Judaism or by stories from the Hebrew Bible but not committed to Torah, covenant piety or the national concerns of Judaism.3 I would stress, though, that even this conclusion is speculative. 2. Critical issues in the study of 2 Enoch The critical issues noted in the introduction need to be examined a little more closely as part of our reflection on the soteriology of the text. Some recent scholarly engagements with 2 Enoch have been rather confident in their assertions of the antiquity of the text and its essentially Jewish character.4 The discussions that took place at the 2009 Enoch Seminar in Naples,5 however, were rather less resolved on the matter, and while these advanced critical engagement with the text in significant ways, it would be misleading to suggest that any kind of consensus was reached concerning the origins of the text. The chief problem that we face is that the manuscript witnesses are extremely late. Until 2009, when Joost Hagen identified earlier Coptic fragments of the text among finds from Qasr Ibrim,6 the manuscript evidence for 2 Enoch was limited to fourteenth– eighteenth century Church Slavonic witnesses, and discussions of the prehistory of the text were, by necessity, speculative; scholars had suggested dates of composition as far apart as the first century bce7 and the tenth 2. The book is distinctively male in its perspective. 3. See Francis I. Andersen, ‘2 (Slavonic Apocalypse of ) Enoch’, in OTP (ed. J. H. Charlesworth; 2 vols; New York: Doubleday, 1983–5), pp. 1.91–221 (96–7); J. R. Davila, The Provenance of the Pseudepigrapha: Jewish, Christian or Other (JSJSupp, 105; Leiden: Brill, 2005), pp. 10–73. 4. In particular, see C. Böttrich in Weltweisheit, Menschheitsethik, Urkult (WUNT, 2.50; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992) and Das slavische Henochbuch, (JSHRZ, V 7; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlaghaus, 1996). Similarly Andrei Orlov’s important study The Enoch-Metatron Tradition (TSAJ, 107; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005) and his collection of essays From Apocalypticism to Merkabah Mysticism: Studies in the Slavonic Pseudepigrapha (JSPSup, 114; Leiden: Brill, 2007). 5. The proceedings of this will be published as Enoch, Adam, Melchizedek: Mediatorial Figures in 2 Enoch and Second Temple Judaism, edited by A. Orlov, G. Boccaccini and J. Zurawski (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011). 6. Details of this find will be published in Orlov, et al., Enoch, Adam, Melchizedek, 2011. 7. As R. H. Charles and W. R Morfill, The Book of the Secrets of Enoch (Oxford: Clarendon, 1896).



Personal Salvation and Rigorous Obedience

129

century ce.8 The fragments identified by Hagen significantly predate the Slavonic witnesses; while, as yet, their age has not been confirmed, they were probably produced before the middle of the tenth century. This takes us further toward antiquity, but still leaves us with a significant time gap that requires some strong argumentation if we are to leap across and make an identification of 2 Enoch as early and Jewish. To complicate matters further, there are at least two recensions of 2 Enoch: a longer and a shorter one.9 Questions of date and provenance, as well as of content, must inevitably grapple with this textual problem, as the significance of any piece of evidence will depend on whether it is seen as being original or secondary. Hagen’s work has again proved significant here, as the text form attested in Coptic is that represented by two of the manuscripts of the shorter recension (A and U). At the very least, this has made problematic the argument of Böttrich that the longer recension is closest to the original, with the abbreviation that led to the existence of the shorter version taking place in the Slavonic environment.10 If the longer recension did predate the Slavonic environment, then it did so alongside the shorter text, for a time at least. I have argued elsewhere (prior even to the identification of the Coptic fragments) that, in fact, the evidence points to most of the material unique to the longer recension as being secondary, broadly supporting the older conclusions of Vaillant11 and the more recent philological work of Navtanovich.12 While the matter is not entirely settled, then, the balance of opinion on the recension debate has nevertheless begun to swing back towards the originality of the shorter recension over the longer one.13 This point having been made, we can return to the question of the origins of 2 Enoch and note some of the evidence that suggests (and no more) a possible Jewish origin. More extensive treatments of this can be found elsewhere,14 8. J. T. Milik, with the collaboration of Matthew Black, The Book of Enoch: Aramaic Fragments from Qumran Cave 4 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1976). See A. S. D. Maunder, ‘The Date and Place of Writing of the Slavonic Book of Enoch’, The Observatory 41 (1918), pp. 309–16; André Vaillant, Le Livre des Secrets d’Hénoch: Texte slave et Traduction française (Textes publiés par l’Institut d’Études slaves, 4; Paris: L’Institut d’Études slaves, 1952). 9. In fact, these can be further subdivided into families marked by different lengths. Vaillant (Le Livre des Secrets d’Hénoch) identified six such families, including the juridical reworking of 2 Enoch found in Merilo Pravednoe, but this takes us to a level of very precise differentiation. See my article, ‘2 Enoch: Manuscripts, Recensions and Original Language’, in Enoch, Adam, Melchizedek: Mediatorial Figures in 2 Enoch and Second Temple Judaism (eds A. Orlov, et al.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011). 10. Böttrich has developed this argument extensively in both Weltweisheit, Menschheitsethik, Urkult, pp. 58–106, and Das slavische Henochbuch, in toto. 11. In Le Livre des Secrets d’Hénoch. See above, note 6. 12. Liudmila Navtanovich, ‘Lingvotekstologicheskii analiz drevneslavianskogo perevoda Knigi Enoha’, (PhD diss.; St Petersburg, 2000). 13. This does not free us from the responsibility of comparing the evidence of the versions, however, as in any given case the longer texts may preserve an older reading. 14. Notably C. Böttrich, Das slavische Henochbuch, pp. 807–13; see also Grant Macaskill, Revealed Wisdom and Inaugurated Eschatology in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity (JSJSup, 115; Leiden: Brill, 2007), pp. 196–8.

130

This World and the World to Come

but a brief evaluation of this is necessary for this article and will begin to introduce some of the soteriological elements of the book. Firstly, there is a lack of clear Christian signature features in the text, once the obviously secondary material largely exclusive to the longer recension is taken out of the equation.15 Secondly, the text also makes numerous references to the altar, and to the offering of sacrifices. Some caution must be exercised, as these may reflect the Christian use of sacrificial language in relation to acts of piety and there is nothing to indicate a singular location, that is, the Jerusalem temple.16 The concern with the proper method of binding animals, however, is more difficult to account for in terms of a Christian authorship, even if the practice in question does seem to be rather unorthodox or even heretical from a Jewish point of view.17 Thirdly, the text also contains a unique, if messy, version of a 364-day solar calendar that does not simply correspond to that of 1 Enoch or Jubilees and that has some interesting connections to Alexandrian schemes.18 Such a calendar (and a preoccupation with its significance)19 is not, to my knowledge, found outside of Jewish circles. Fourthly, the text is dense with Semitisms, though whether these are indicative of an original Semitic Vorlage20 or simply represent an imitation of biblical (particularly Septuagintal) Greek style is difficult to establish. Finally, a significant range of connections between 2 Enoch and developing streams of Jewish mysticism have been demonstrated in a number of articles by Andrei Orlov.21

15. For this material, see Böttrich, Weltweisheit, Menschheitsethik, Urkult, pp. 114–30. 16. There is a reference to the visitation of the temple in 51.4, but this is something of an oddity in the text and we should be very wary of assuming that the temple in Jerusalem is in view, rather than another cultic centre or shrine. I discuss this further below. 17. See S. Pines, ‘Eschatology and the Concept of Time in the Slavonic Book of Enoch’, in Types of Redemption: Contributions to the Theme of the Study-Conference Held at Jerusalem 14th to 19th July 1968 (eds R. J. Zwi Werblowsky and Claas J. Bleeker; Leiden: Brill, 1970), pp. 72–87. The evidence surveyed by Pines, both in 2 Enoch and in Rabbinic texts, is limited, and his conclusions should be treated with some caution; nevertheless, the suggestion that the binding practice reflected in 2 Enoch 59 is that of the heretical minim is provocative. 18. See B. Lourié, ‘Metatron i Prometaya: Btoraya Kniga Enoxa na Perekrestke Problem’, Scrinium 2 (2006), pp. 371–407. 19. It is possible, further, that Enoch’s second ascension is deliberately connected to the date of the Festival of Firstfruits (68.3, longer recension; see Anderson, ‘2 Enoch’, p. 196, note 68.c), but the reference is not universally attested. 20. This idea would founder on the evidence of 2 Enoch 30, which includes an acronym of the names of the four chief stars and links this to the naming of Adam; an account that works only with the Greek names of those stars. I have argued elsewhere, however, that this is secondary. See my article, ‘The Creation of Man in 2 (Slavonic) Enoch and Christian Tradition’, in Congress Volume: XIXth Congress of the International Organization for the Study of the Old Testament (IOSOT), Ljubljana 16–20 July 2007 (ed. André Lemaire; Leiden: Brill, 2010), pp. 399–422. 21. See note 3, above.



Personal Salvation and Rigorous Obedience

131

While suggestive, however, none of this is adequate to finally demonstrate the Early Jewish origins of 2 Enoch, and the evidence lacks certain features that would allow us greater confidence in calling the work Jewish. The extensive ethical material of the text, for example, contains little that reflects genuine halachic interest in Torah: the ethics and piety are of a rather more vague and general kind. The one example we have of an ethical position that might reflect actual halachic debate is the above-mentioned example of appropriate methods of binding sacrificial animals, a practice which, if anything, is associated in rabbinic texts with heretical groups.22 It may be claimed that the absence of Torah imagery or piety is unsurprising given the fictive setting of the book in the pre-Mosaic period, but texts like 1 Enoch and Jubilees occupy that same setting and themes of Torah observance are woven through them, though in potentially polemical form.23 Second Enoch lacks or has lost these features and must be differentiated from such texts ideologically;24 all the more so because it shares so much with 1 Enoch.25 The calendrical aspect of the book is potentially more significant, but it remains to be demonstrated conclusively that this feature has not simply been derived from other Enochic texts, notably 1 Enoch, which has clearly influenced the text at points (18.1-9). The calendrical schema is uniquely developed in 2 Enoch, but this could reflect the transmission and alteration of traditional material, rather than a vibrant concern for the Jewish festivals, which is difficult to establish in the text. Just as there is no interest in Torah, neither is there a concern in the text for Jerusalem and its restoration or its eschatological destiny. The text does refer to visiting the temple (51.4), but there is nothing in the context that requires us to see this as the Jerusalem temple: the word used in most manuscripts (khram) could refer to any cultic centre. Interestingly, some manuscripts depart from this by substituting the word for ‘church’, reflecting the lack of contextual specificity. The problematic Melkizedek account at 22. See note 16, above. 23. The Book of the Watchers, for example, seems to reflect halachic debates over intermarriage and priestly purity. See my article, ‘Priestly Purity, Mosaic Torah and the Emergence of Enochic Judaism’, Hen 29 (2007), pp. 67–89. 24. Certain terms or phrases occur sparingly that might be seen to refer to Torah, such as the ‘yoke’ image of chapter 34 or the references to the ‘foundations’ and ‘traditions’ of the ‘fathers’ in the 52.9-10. There is inadequate evidence, though, to make the case that these do, in fact, refer to Torah, rather than functioning as more generic references to tradition. 25. This point is significant: a similar lack of explicit interest in Torah is seen in, e.g., Proverbs or Ecclesiastes, but these are less appropriate as comparative texts than the other Enochic texts, all of which demonstrate an interest in halachah that vanishes from 2 Enoch. 26. Textually, this section is highly problematic and is missing from some manuscripts. Interestingly, though, we have no examples of the account circulating independently from 2 Enoch, to which it is always linked. See Grant Macaskill, ‘2 Enoch: Manuscripts, Recensions and Original Language’, in Enoch, Adam, Melchizedek: Mediatorial Figures in 2 Enoch and Second Temple Judaism (eds A. Orlov, et al.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011).

132

This World and the World to Come

the end of the book26 is located at ‘Akhuzan’, which some have equated with Jerusalem,27 but even if this connection can be sustained, the place is undeveloped in specifically soteriological terms: there is no link to the restoration of Jerusalem, the fate of the temple or the significance of the place for the world. In other words, the text lacks any obvious concern with the national interests of Israel or Judea, even of the kind that we might expect to find in a diaspora work. The options should not too quickly be reduced to a straightforward decision between Jewish and Christian authorship, however. The ambiguities and problems noted above, combined with the oddity of some of the soteriological ideas that will be discussed below, leave open the possibility that we are dealing with a text from the very fringes of what may be spoken of as Jewish. As far back as 1983, in the preface to his translation, Andersen made this point, noting, ‘If the work is Jewish, it must have belonged to a fringe sect’.28 He commented later: In every respect 2 Enoch remains an enigma … by the very marginal if not deviant character of their beliefs, its users could have been gentile converts to moral monotheism based on belief in the God of the Bible as Creator, but not as the God of Abraham or Moses.29

This legitimately muddies the waters of the often-simplistic discussions of Jewish versus Christian authorship. We cannot rule out the possibility that 2 Enoch is a Christian work and when scrutinized in terms of Davila’s recent methodological criteria for distinguishing Jewish and Christian pseudepigrapha,30 the evidence noted above falls some way short of constituting proof of Jewish authorship. Andersen’s suggestion of a more marginal kind of ‘Judaism’, however, is a distinct alternative to Christian authorship, one that works well in the context of Davila’s complex picture of Judaism and its influences, and at least provides some warrant for the consideration of 2 Enoch in this book.31 There are important implications in this for the kind of significance that we attach to the soteriology of 2 Enoch, however: potentially, at least, this is theology from the borderlands and not from the mainstream.32

27. For example, Orlov, From Apocalypticism to Merkabah Mysticism, pp. 427–31. 28. Andersen, ‘2 Enoch’, p. 96. 29. Andersen, ‘2 Enoch’, p. 97. 30. J. R. Davila, The Provenance of the Pseudepigrapha, in toto. 31. The complexity of this issue is also explored by M. Goodman, ‘Jews and Judaism in the Mediterranean Diaspora in the Late-Roman Period: the Limitations of Evidence’, in his Judaism in the Roman World: Collected Essays (Leiden: Brill, 2007), pp. 233–59. 32. The language I use here is drawn from some of the open discussion at the 2010 Enoch Seminar in Naples, where Lawrence Schiffman used such terminology to describe the theology of the text. It seems to me that the discussion takes us back very firmly to the kind of provenance and context suggested by Andersen but broadly overlooked by subsequent scholarship.



Personal Salvation and Rigorous Obedience

133

3. Salvation, Enochic revelation and eschatological destiny Having discussed the methodological challenges associated with the study of 2 Enoch, we may now turn to examine in greater depth the soteriology of the text. The most obvious feature of the soteriological schema in 2 Enoch is the role played by the revelation received by Enoch, adherence to which becomes the standard for judgement and eschatological destiny. This is built into the core narrative shape of the book, with Enoch’s revelatory ascent and heavenly sojourn serving as the basis for the ethical material that fills much of the rest of the book. A lengthy description of Enoch’s ascent through the heavens includes detailed descriptions of cosmological secrets that are subsequently augmented by the secrets of the creation revealed to Enoch by God, through the mediation of the angel Vereveil. A chain of revelation is then established: having passed from God to Enoch, the revelation is then transmitted by Enoch to his sons, and from his sons to a ‘last generation’ (35.1-3). This sets up an inaugurated eschatological dimension to the text to which I will return below. At this point, what is crucial to note is that strict adherence to the wisdom of Enoch is the key criterion by which people as individuals will be judged (49.59). There is no mention of Mosaic Torah, which never informs the ethics of the text. Numerous connections, by contrast, can be established between the content of what is revealed to Enoch during his ascent and sojourn in heaven and the details of the text’s instructional material,33 drawing attention again to the significance of the Enochic revelation. What, then, of the content of that revelation and how it relates to salvation? Most obviously, there is a key emphasis on the revelation of creational secrets and mysteries to Enoch, with ‘righteousness’ being understood as living in proper submission to the will of ‘the Creator’ through adherence to Enoch’s teaching. As the patriarch ascends through the various levels of heaven34 he is enabled to see aspects of the cosmos that are inaccessible to an earthly viewer, such as the storehouses of the various climatic elements (5–6) and, importantly, the movements and character of the heavenly bodies, with their calendrical implications (11–16). The seven heavens thus contain the cosmos, rather than floating above it. This observational dimension to Enoch’s creational knowledge is augmented by a more explicitly revelatory one, as God shares with him the details of how he made the world (24–32). Taken together, these elements weave a picture of Enoch as a reliable source for true understanding of the cosmos. Attention is drawn to the precision and accuracy of his knowledge in 43.1. The witnesses differ here, with the shorter recension actually providing much more detail, but all versions emphasize Enoch’s scribal duties of recording35 and the extra content of the shorter 33. See below. 34. There are seven such levels detailed in the shorter accounts. The longer manuscripts list ten, but the additional heavens are undoubtedly a secondary feature. See Böttrich, Weltweisheit, Menschheitsethik, Urkult, pp. 109–14. 35. Including the delightful detail, in the longer recension, that Enoch is assisted by having a speed-writing pen (22.11).

134

This World and the World to Come

recension, with its emphasis on ‘measurement’, is supported by parallels with the abbreviated juridical text Merilo Pravdnoe.36 There is, then, a real significance to 43.1, with its grammar calling attention to Enoch’s own role: ‘I, even I have measured and noted the hours, and I have distinguished every seed on the earth, and every measure and every just scale. I, even I have recorded them’.37 Andrei Orlov has noted the development of this text in Merilo Pravednoe and the description there of Enoch as ‘governor’ or ‘manager’ of earthly arrangements, provocatively suggesting that the obscure term that follows this in the Slavonic text – the word or title prometaya – may be linked to verbs of measurement in Greek and Latin and may reflect a potential background to the name of Metatron.38 Whether or not he is correct in this suggestion, Orlov rightly stresses the accumulation of titles and descriptions of Enoch that stress his comprehensive scribal knowledge of the cosmos: the patriarch’s revelation is the only reliable guide for the conduct of those who acknowledge the Creator and wish to live according to his will. Also important, however, is the fact that the creation has an inherently eschatological or teleological dimension. As Enoch ascends through the heavens, he sees alongside the places of elemental significance noted above places of eschatological reward and punishment and sees the kind of beings that dwell in each. In chapter 8, Paradise is described as a place of inconceivable or unparalleled beauty existing in the third heaven.39 The description is clearly influenced by the Genesis account of Eden, with mention of the four rivers (8.2), the tree of life (8.3), God’s practice of walking in the garden (8.3), and the angels that guard it (8.8). Chapter 9 makes clear that this place is prepared for ‘the righteous’: Who suffer every kind of tribulation in this life and who afflict their souls, and who avert their eyes from injustice, and who carry out righteous judgment, to give bread to the hungry, and to cover the naked with clothing and to lift up the fallen and to help the injured, who walk before the face of the Lord and who worship him only.40

It is worth noting that this place is prepared for those who conduct themselves in a particular way and that while the term ‘righteous’ occurs, it is unpacked in a way that makes no reference to Torah but rather to a general humanitarian code, augmented by a statement of monolatry. Paradise recurs as a place of 36. For this text, see Andersen’s translation in OTP 1.215-21. 37. This translation broadly corresponds to that of Andersen (‘2 Enoch’, p. 171) though I have brought it into line with my own reading of the text. 38. A. Orlov, ‘The Origin of the Name “Metatron”’ and the Text of 2 (Slavonic Apocalypse of) Enoch’, JSP 21 (2000), pp. 19–26. 39. On the question of the relationship of this reference to 2 Cor. 12.2, see my article ‘Paradise in the New Testament’, in Paradise in Antiquity: Jewish and Christian Views (eds M. Bockmuehl and G. Stroumsa; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010), pp. 64–81 (68–9). 40. Andersen, ‘2 Enoch’, pp. 117, 119.



Personal Salvation and Rigorous Obedience

135

eschatological reward in chapters 42 and 6541 and while in both passages there is a description of a community that will inhabit the blessed state, there is also an emphasis that personal conduct, not community membership, is the decisive factor in whether one enters this place. The consistent use of individual language throughout chapters 42–65 (e.g., ‘whoever does …’, ‘he who does …’) is important to this, as is the concept of scales, by which each person’s deeds are weighed (49.2; 52.15). Set over against this description of paradise is the rather gruesome description of the ‘northern region’ in chapter 10: a place stocked with torture implements, staffed by cruel angels and prepared for those who ‘practice godless uncleaness on the earth’ (10.4). Again, there is a direct link made between the actions of individuals and their punishment, with the evils ranging from witchcraft and idolatry through to social injustice (10.46). The latter evils stand in broad antithetical parallelism to the virtuous actions described in chapter 9; themes of clothing and hunger link the two accounts. In fact, this is not dissimilar from Matthew 25.31-46, and the two texts have often been seen to be connected. In Matthew, however, the social ethic operates within a more obviously Jewish soteriological scheme, revolving around temple and restoration themes, even if these have been Christologically reoriented.42 This contrasts with 2 Enoch, where the level of detail in the descriptions of the places of eschatological destiny contrasts with the essential simplicity of the soteriological scheme, which simply involves individuals inheriting a place appropriate to their conduct. The descriptions of paradise and the northern region in the context of Enoch’s ascent leave the reader with the sense that judgement and reward are built into the very structure of the cosmos as natural counterparts to the moral shape of things. This fact is reinforced by the account, in chapter 25, of the primal figures Adoil and Arukhas, from which everything else was derived. Of the two, Adoil is most relevant to the current point. This figure, associated with light, carries ‘the great age’ in his belly; he is commanded to disintegrate himself and from him comes the great age, which ‘carried all the creation’ within itself. The phrase ‘the great age’ recurs later in the book, in 65.8, where it is the key term used for the blessed state that will exist after the judgement and constitutes the time within which the paradise described above will be enjoyed by the righteous. The eternal, perfect eschatological state, then, is the fuller created reality within which the physical cosmos has its own specific existence. Creation and eschatology are thus fully integrated.43 Given the interweaving of Enoch’s revelations with the ethical material in the book, it is quite obvious that conformity to the will of God qua creator 41. There is also a mention of paradise in the creation account, in 32.1-2, but the originality of this is questionable, being found only in the longer recension. 42. Note the connection between Mt. 25.31-46 and the discussion of the fall of Jerusalem in Matthew 24, which provides the contextual lead-in to the parables. 43. See my fuller discussion in Macaskill, Revealed Wisdom and Inaugurated Eschatology, pp. 214–18.

136

This World and the World to Come

is the essential element of salvation and a basic requirement for entry into paradise. Numerous times, the reader is called to connect a specific practice to the special knowledge of creation, including its eschatological aspects, that has been revealed through Enoch. Most obviously, there is a profound consciousness of the dignity of all human beings as bearers of the divine image,44 but numerous other connections can be noted. The following table, which I first presented at the Society of Biblical Literature Annual Meeting in 2008 and later developed for the Enoch Seminar in Naples, lists key points of connection between the later sections of the book and the creation/ ascent narratives. While the table is specifically intended to highlight that the material unique to the longer recension is not paralleled by ethical elements, it also illustrates well the extent to which the authentic material provides a key basis for ethics. Table: Allusions and Parallels to the Creation Story in 2 Enoch (material unique to the longer recension is in bold) CREATION NARRATIVE ELEMENT

CHAPTER DETAILS

PARALLELS IN ASCENT NARRATIVE

PARALLELS IN ETHICAL MATERIAL

The planning and design of creation

24.1-5

Entire

42.14; 44.1; 47.2-6; 51.5 52.5-6, 58.1-6; 65.1-11; 66.4

Adoil (and the ‘great age’) and Arukhas

25.1–26.3

Chs 7–10 (places of eschatological fate)

49.1-3; 50.1-2; 58.6 (the great age); 61.2 (great age); 65.8 (great age). All texts speak of eschatological places as created and prepared.

The seven crystalline circles

27.3–28.1

----------------------------

---------------------------

Formation of seas and land

28.2-4

4.2 (heavenly ocean contrasted with the earthly); Chs 5–6 (treasuries of water); otherwise not to be expected here

47.2-6; 48.5; 66.4

Ch. 4; Ch. 7 (rebel angels); 10.2 (rebel angels); Chs 11–17 (calendrical details); Ch. 18 (the Grigori)

40.2-5; 41.1–42.5 (assuming ‘impious’ are angels); 48.1-4 (longer recension only); 65.3-4; 66.4

Formation of heavenly bodies and angels

44.

See, especially chapter 44.



137

Personal Salvation and Rigorous Obedience

Table continued CREATION NARRATIVE ELEMENT

CHAPTER DETAILS

PARALLELS IN ASCENT NARRATIVE

PARALLELS IN ETHICAL MATERIAL

Rebellion of Satanail

29.4-6

18.3 (longer recension only)

----------------------------

Creation of Life

30.1-2; 7–8

Chs 5–6 (treasuries)

52.5-6; 58.1-6 (respect for God’s creatures, animal eternal life); 59.1-5 (animal rights in sacrifice)

Stars placed on the seven crystalline circles

30.4-7

------------------------------

----------------------------

Creation of Man (basic)

30.8

10.6

44.1-4; 60.1-4; 65.1-5

Creation of Man (Septipartite)

30.9–31.2

-----------------------------

----------------------------

Satanail/Sotona’s temptation of Adam and Eve (and the Fall)

31.3–33.2

------------------------------

----------------------------

In his pioneering study of the theology of 2 Enoch, Böttrich suggests that the ethics of the text are distinctively Noachic.45 While broadly in agreement, it will be clear from the discussion above that I am more inclined to speak about the ethics as creational.46 This recognizes both the significance of the extensive descriptions of creation and also the relatively minor role played by Noah in the book.47 What is worth stressing, however, is that whichever term we adopt, there is an essential simplicity to the moral code outlined. This is not a long and comprehensive list of regulations and laws, but rather a general moral code based on respect for both Creator and creation, taught by means of wisdom-type forms (beatitudes, poems, sayings).

45. Weltweisheit, Menschheitsethik, Urkult, pp. 184–9. 46. The difference is perhaps simply a matter of emphasis: Böttrich certainly does not neglect the creational aspect of the ethics of the text. 47. For further on this, see A. Orlov, ‘The Melchizedek Legend of 2 Enoch’, JSJ 31 (2000), pp. 23–38; Christfried Böttrich, ‘The Melchizedek Story of 2 (Slavonic) Enoch: A Reaction to Andrei Orlov’, JSJ 32 (2001), pp. 445–70; and Andrei Orlov, ‘On the Polemical Nature of 2 (Slavonic) Enoch: A Reply to C. Böttrich’, JSJ 34 (2003), pp. 274–303.

138

This World and the World to Come 4. Grace, transformation and strict legalism

As noted above, despite the level of detail in the descriptions of paradise and the northern heaven, 2 Enoch lacks a well-developed eschatological scheme. The book essentially presents a rather simple account of a heavenly paradise that will eventually be established on earth, set in contrast to a hellish place of punishment, with little detail provided of how this will take place. Chapter 65 develops further the imagery of paradise that appears in the account of Enoch’s ascent. Creation is described as coming to an end (65.6), and with it time (65.7), so that everything becomes part of the single great age (65.8). The righteous who successfully pass through the judgement enter into this age, where they enjoy paradise, which is further described using utopian language of freedom from suffering (‘there will be among them neither weariness nor suffering nor affliction nor expectation of violence’)48 and from darkness (‘nor the pain of the night nor darkness, but they will have a great light for eternity’). 49 I will return to this imagery below, as it has been argued that it presents the righteous as enjoying the restored glory of Adam. At this point, what is important to note is that this ‘blessed afterlife is strictly a reward for right ethical behaviour’.50 With these words, Andersen captures what for him is the essentially legalistic soteriology of 2 Enoch: salvation is attained by rigorous adherence to a moral code, not Mosaic Torah, but rather the instruction of Enoch. The book, therefore, does not fit comfortably within either Jewish or Christian concepts of salvation. Broadly speaking, Andersen is correct. We have already noted the straightforward connection between one’s conduct in this life and the eschatological place that will be occupied: paradise or the northern region of torment. There is also a striking emphasis in the text of the direct correspondence between one’s actions and both immediate and eschatological rewards, a clear talionic principle. Thus, for example, 45.1 reads, ‘He who is prompt with his oblations in front of the face of the Lord, the Lord will be prompt with his compensations’,51 while in 60.1: ‘whoever does harm to a human soul creates harm for his own soul, and there is no healing for him for eternity’. The text, in fact, frequently uses the language of ‘testing’ in relation to the performance of righteous acts (e.g., 45.3; 49.3), but not with quite the same connotations that such a notion has in biblical texts. In 2 Enoch, life is a testing-ground, and only if one is pious and meets the ethical standard revealed by Enoch will a ‘passing grade’ be awarded, allowing access to the blessed state beyond the judgement. Importantly, there is also a lack of space for repentance in the text. Chapters 61 and 62 are particularly striking in this respect, with a doctrine of judgement that Andersen describes as ‘rigorous legalism’. These chapters concern the bringing of offerings to God, possibly including remunerative 48. 65.9. Andersen, ‘2 Enoch’, p. 193. 49. 65.9-10. Andersen, ‘2 Enoch’, p. 193. 50. Andersen, ‘2 Enoch’, p. 96. 51. Andersen, ‘2 Enoch’, p. 173.



Personal Salvation and Rigorous Obedience

139

ones. The point is made forcibly that if one promises to bring a sacrifice and fails to carry the oath through to completion, or even if one brings the sacrifice with a complaining heart, then there will be no acceptance from God, only condemnation (61.4-5; 62.2). There is clear evidence in the longer recension of Christian elaboration of this doctrine, but the core doctrine clearly belongs to the original stratum of the text.52 We may also note the significance in this regard of 53.2, which disavows any possibility of Enoch offering intercessory prayer on behalf of his children: if they fail to honour God, then they must bear the punishment for this. All of this points away from a covenant-type soteriology, of the kind encountered in its different forms elsewhere in Early Judaism, towards a straightforward performancereward model of salvation, with no room for error. There does, however, need to be some acknowledgement of a kind of grace in the underlying narrative of 2 Enoch. Chapters 34–35 are key to this point. These chapters describe the evil that is in the world and anticipate the judgement of the flood (34.3), but they also describe a remnant, Noah and his house, and make the promise that in the time of the last generation, the books of Enoch will be revealed to that generation, leading to salvation, as they discover what is involved in living according to the Creator’s will and secure their place in paradise in the great age. This inaugurated eschatological imagery is suggestive of group-identity and the group in question is understood to exist because of divine grace, even if the actual terminology of grace is not used. The point should not be pushed too far, though, for it hardly diminishes the strenuous emphasis of the text on personal fidelity to the Creator’s will. It does, however, provide an important context to that emphasis: it is God who takes the initiative in salvation, by ensuring that the revelation given to Enoch will ultimately be known and accepted by a community and will bring about the personal moral transformation of those within it. 5. The transformation of Enoch and the eternal state of the saved: recovered Adamic glory? Up to this point, we have been dealing with a straightforward model of obedience and reward, with Enoch’s significance primarily that of the revealer. In 64.5, however, he is described as the one ‘who carries/has carried away’ sin. The manuscripts are inconsistent on the details, with the longer texts having a perfect construction in which the sins of all mankind have been removed, and the shorter texts an ongoing or present construction, related only to those standing in front of Enoch. The phrase is paralleled in both versions by a reference to Enoch’s scribal and revelatory role, the shorter recension neatly reading, ‘He has appointed you to be the one who reveals, who carries away our sins’.53 It seems reasonable to read this as 52. See Andersen, ‘2 Enoch’, p. 188, note 62a. 53. Andersen, ‘2 Enoch’, p. 191.

140

This World and the World to Come

simply indicating that by revealing the will of the creator and thus enabling fidelity to that will, Enoch deals with – ‘removes’ – the problem of sin. A rather different reading is offered by Orlov, however, who links this to the description of Enoch’s transformation in chapter 22, where he is dressed in glorious robes, anointed with luminous oil and becomes, essentially, an angelic figure. For Orlov, this constitutes a recovery of the lost glory of Adam and represents a reversal of the curse of the Fall. Enoch thus initiates a new state of salvation, one that is shared fully by the faithful as they enter into the great age at the eschaton, where ‘they will have a great light for eternity’ (65.10).54 This, for Orlov, represents the participation of the community in the restoration of Adam’s glory, a recovery of the pristine state of creation. I have offered a full critique of Orlov’s argument elsewhere55 and have no intention of rehearsing the details here. What I will draw attention to, however, is the fact that much of the Adamic material in 2 Enoch is highly suspect. It is found only in the longer recension, with substantial evidence of redactional activity. The fact that Hagen’s Coptic fragments of 2 Enoch support the shorter versions lends further weight to the suspicion that this material is secondary and probably represents interference from Christian Adamic traditions.56 Once it is discounted, we find that despite the preoccupation of the author(s) of 2 Enoch with creation, Adam is a rather marginal figure. This fact makes problematic the Adamic significance attached to 2 Enoch 22 by Orlov, a significance that depends on external evidence from the primary Adam literature that is itself of uncertain provenance. A further criticism that can be brought against Orlov concerns the specific temporal significance that he reads in 64.5, complaining that Böttrich fails to recognize that Enoch is described as the one who ‘has carried away the sins of mankind’57 and justifying such a reading of the term o¯timitelĕ. That term, however, only occurs in the longer manuscripts; the shorter manuscripts contain a variety of synonymous present verbal forms. Certainly the text contains paradisiacal expectations for the righteous in the post-judgement age, and these are linked to expectations of glory. The text also promises that they will have a great light in that age, indeed, that they will ‘inherit the light’ (53.1). Whether by this is indicated a numinosity that will be a characteristic of the righteous, however, rather than simply indicating a glorious context, is not clear; it seems most likely to me that the imagery of a numinous inheritance is simply stereotypical language of blessedness, since there is no well-developed eschatological scenario in the

54. A. Orlov, ‘On the Polemical Nature of 2 (Slavonic) Enoch’, pp. 274–303. 55. Macaskill, Revealed Wisdom, pp. 220–5. 56. See my articles, ‘The Creation of Man in 2 (Slavonic) Enoch and Christian Tradition’, pp. 399–422, and ‘Adam Octipartite: A New Translation with Notes’, in More Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (eds R. J. Bauckham, J. R. Davila and A. A Panayotov; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012). 57. Orlov, ‘On the Polemical Nature of 2 (Slavonic) Enoch’, pp. 299–302.



Personal Salvation and Rigorous Obedience

141

text. There is no more reason to see Adamic numinosity here than in, for example, Isaiah 60–61 and, indeed, it is possible that Isaianic language has influenced the paradise descriptions of 2 Enoch, though our text lacks any traces of the Zion-orientation that characterizes Isaiah. Generally the eschatological expectations in 2 Enoch are of a rather utopian kind and show no clear evidence of explicit reflection on Adam traditions. We return, then, to our original point: Enoch is central to the soteriological scheme because he is a revealer figure and not because he recovers Adamic glory. 6. Conclusion Given the uncertain provenance of 2 Enoch, some real methodological caution must be applied when we consider its soteriology in the context of a volume such as this. There are clearly some obvious debts to biblical tradition and Jewish theology, but the soteriological schema and ethical framework are quite distinctive from these and are, frankly, rather basic. The impression of a performance-reward model is overwhelming and while there is an underlying narrative of divine initiative, this does little to mitigate the strikingly legalistic cast of the material as a whole. The term ‘legalistic’, of course, needs to be qualified here, for it refers not to observance of Mosaic Torah, but to the stringent practice of the moral code associated with Enoch’s revelation. We are left with the question of the location of the book and its soteriology. In a precise form, this question is unanswerable, but there are more general and speculative formulations that are provocative. Clearly the work is the product of a monotheistic group that worships the God associated with the narratives of Genesis, but there is nothing that resembles covenant piety or soteriology, and none of the structures of repentance and mercy that are associated with that covenant. Even the stringent ethical standards of the text are actually quite vague in many of the details, without clear evidence of halachic interest. While this may have been the result of a Christian authorship, there is a lack of obvious Christian signature features, and several elements are present that would seem to tell against this, such as the description of Enoch as the key saviour figure in 64.5. If we do regard the book as being a product of Early Judaism, despite the problematic evidence, then our understanding of Judaism must be sufficiently broad to include the kind of soteriology outlined above: of personal fidelity to a moral code, with individual reward and no room for repentance and with no concern for national interests or restoration. This may complicate overly simplistic models of Judaism in a helpful way. On the other hand, we could be dealing with something else: a group from the ‘borderlands’ that is interested in Jewish theology and committed to monotheism, but that is not truly or ethnically Jewish and displays a rather vague knowledge of biblical material and of covenant theology. The lack of interest in Torah may call into question the possibility of this group being the product of Jewish

142

This World and the World to Come

proselytizing,58 and may suggest a group at greater remove from Judaism. At the same time, the robust concern with monotheism requires some caution in associating this group with those that reverenced the God of Israel in a polytheistic context.59 Instead, if this possibility is considered, we seem to have a window onto a distinctive group, committed to monotheism and to the God of Abraham, but lacking any covenantal frame of reference for this. Orlov’s suggestions of links with Jewish mysticism may be compatible with such a picture, should the group that authored 2 Enoch have had some general encounters with Jewish mysticism without having the full theological or traditional context of ethnic Jews. Since the early work of Charles and Morfill,60 links between 2 Enoch and Egypt have been noted, particularly through certain elements of the imagery used in the text;61 while late, Hagen’s Coptic fragments from Qasr Ibrim constitute another link with place. We need to be very wary here, and acknowledge a high degree of speculation, but nevertheless, the religious context of Egypt around the turn of eras and into the early Christian period could easily accommodate such a work and explain the eccentric soteriology, neither Jewish nor Christian.

58. L. Feldman, ‘Conversion to Judaism in Classical Antiquity’, in his Judaism and Hellenism Reconsidered (Leiden: Brill, 2006), pp. 205–52, surveys evidence for significant numbers of conversions to Judaism in Classical Antiquity. This could provide some context for our group, but the lack of interest in certain Jewish identity markers in 2 Enoch would seem to tell against a proseletyzing background, where such markers would surely have been prominent. 59. Cf. Goodman, ‘Jews and Judaism in the Mediterranean Diaspora’, esp. pp. 242–55. 60. R. H. Charles and W. Morfill, The Book of the Secrets of Enoch. 61. Notably, but not solely, the phoenix imagery used in 15.1.

Part III (A Set of Some) Psalms

Chapter 9

Enduring the Lord’s Discipline: Soteriology in the Psalms of Solomon Kenneth Atkinson The Psalms of Solomon are a collection of 18 pseudonymous Jewish poems that struggle with the issue of soteriology. Although attributed to the biblical king Solomon, several of the Psalms of Solomon describe events of the first century bce. The Psalms of Solomon were likely written by several authors, and collected together in their present form at some unknown date. Many of the poems try to explain why the innocent are suffering, which to many appears to refute God’s promises that Israel will be protected. The poets conclude that nobody is completely innocent; the pious must suffer along with the wicked. However, the authors of the Psalms of Solomon believe that God disciplines the devout and lost sinners differently. Righteous suffering atones for sin and leads to salvation for those who accept God’s chastisement. Salvation is beyond the grasp of deliberate sinners, even though they are members of God’s covenant community, because they willfully reject divine discipline. 1. Introduction 1.1. Language and manuscripts The Psalms of Solomon are extant in 11 Greek and five Syriac manuscripts, all of which date between the tenth to the sixteenth centuries ce.1 The many Semitic expressions in the Greek version indicate that the work was composed in Hebrew.2 Unfortunately, no trace of the Hebrew original survives. Because 1. See further, Albert-Marie Denis, Introduction aux pseudépigraphes grecs d’Ancien Testament (SVTP, 1; Leiden: Brill, 1970), pp. 512–17. 2. See further, Mathias Delcor, ‘Psaumes de Salomon’, in DBSup (eds L. Pirot and A. Robert; Paris: Letouzey & Ané, 1979), pp. 214–45 (214); Herbert Edward Ryle and Montague Rhodes James, Psalms of the Pharisees, Commonly Called the Psalms of Solomon (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1891), pp. lxxxiv–lxxxvii; Joseph Viteau, Les Psaumes de Salomon: Introduction, texte grec et traduction, avec les principales

146

This World and the World to Come

the Syriac is largely a literal reproduction of the Greek version, most scholars believe it was made from the Greek translation and not the Hebrew original.3 The Greek text is clearly translation Greek, and in numerous instances the translator has improperly vocalized the unvocalized Hebrew text or has attempted to adhere to Hebrew syntax.4 Because the Greek remains our best witness to the Psalms of Solomon’s text, all translations and discussions, except where indicated, are based on this version.5 1.2. Authorship and date If we can determine the religious affiliation of the community behind the Psalms of Solomon this could potentially tell us much about the composition’s understanding of soteriology. Unfortunately, scholars cannot agree who wrote these poems. The Psalms of Solomon have been attributed to the Sadducees, the Pharisees, the Essenes, the Hasidim or a related Jewish sect, and the Christians.6 Since there is no definitive evidence to connect the collection with any known Jewish group, it is perhaps best to attribute them to some unknown Jewish sect.7 The title of the Psalms of Solomon ascribes the collection to King Solomon, who was famous as an author of poems and proverbs (1 Kgs 4.32 (Heb. 5.12)).8 The name by which the composition is known, however, was likely added later. The poems were possibly attributed to Solomon because of the variantes de la version syriaque par François Martin (Paris: Letouzey et Ané, 1911), pp. 105–22. Greek was proposed as the original language of the Psalms of Solomon by Adolph Hilgenfeld, ‘Die Psalmen Salomo’s und die Himmelfahrt des Moses, griechisch hergestellt und erklärt’, ZWT 11 (1868), pp. 133–68. 3. See Joachim Begrich, ‘Der Text der Psalmen Salomos’, ZNW 38 (1939), pp. 131– 64 (162–4); Karl G. Kuhn, Die älteste Textgestalt der Psalmen Salomos Insbesondere auf grund der Syrischen übersetzung Neu Untersucht (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1937); Joseph L. Trafton, The Syriac Version of the Psalms of Solomon: A Critical Evaluation (SBLSCS, 11; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985). 4. M. Delcor, ‘Psaumes de Salomon’, pp. 224–9. 5. This study follows the Greek edition of Alfred Rahlfs, Septuaginta, id est Vetus Testamentum graece iuxta LXX interpretes (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1935), pp. 2.471–89. I have also consulted Robert B. Wright’s eclectic edition (The Psalms of Solomon: A Critical Edition of the Greek Text (JCTCRS, 1; New York: T&T Clark, 2007)). English translations are from Kenneth Atkinson, ‘Psalms of Salomon’, in NETS (eds Albert Pietersma and Benjamin G. Wright; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), pp. 263–76. Proper names have been changed to reflect traditional English spellings. 6. For a detailed bibliographical list of all the proposed authors of the Psalms of Solomon, see Kenneth Atkinson, An Intertextual Study of the Psalms of Solomon: Pseudepigrapha (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen Press, 2001), pp. 410–24. 7. See further, Kenneth Atkinson, I Cried to the Lord: A Study of the Psalms of Solomon’s Historical Background and Social Setting (JSJSup, 84; Leiden: Brill, 2004), pp. 220–2. 8. Some manuscripts title the collection Psalms of Solomon while others spell it Psalms of Salomon. See further, Kenneth Atkinson, ‘Psalms of Salomon’, pp. 763–74.



Enduring the Lord’s Discipline

147

reference to David’s son in Psalm of Solomon 17.21. It is also possible that the similarity between canonical Psalm 72 and Psalm of Solomon 17 led some readers to attribute the collection to Solomon.9 The Psalms of Solomon fortunately contains numerous historical allusions to known persons that allow us to date its composition to the first century bce. Psalms of Solomon 2, 8, and 17 clearly refer to the events associated with Pompey’s 63 bce conquest of Jerusalem. These poems are highly polemical and denounce Judea’s Hasmonean rulers. They also condemn the struggle over the high priesthood between the two sons of Queen Salome Alexandra (76–67 bce), Hyrcanus II and Aristobulus II.10 The former had served as high priest during her reign and became her political successor. His younger brother, Aristobulus II, overthrew him three months later. The subsequent infighting between the two provided the Romans with an opportunity to intervene in Judea’s affairs.11 The Jewish historian Josephus records how the two brothers each tried to undermine the other to win the support of the Roman general Pompey the Great. After first backing Aristobulus II, the Romans eventually decided to support Hyrcanus II. The latter helped Pompey besiege the partisans of Aristobulus II in Jerusalem. Pompey took Aristobulus II to Rome and forced him to walk in front of his chariot during his triumphal procession. Although the Romans restored Hyrcanus II to his former position as high priest, they abolished the monarchy. Direct Roman rule had begun.12 The Psalms of Solomon’s vivid descriptions of the Roman destruction of Jerusalem suggest that eyewitnesses to Pompey’s conquest wrote them. Since the latest identifiable historical reference is to Pompey’s assassination in Egypt in 48 bce, they were likely completed sometime after that date, but before the Romans appointed Herod the Great as Judea’s king in 40 bce.13 The majority of poems in the collection are difficult to date, and refer to both internal Jewish disputes and the 63 bce Roman conquest. Because of 9. Ambrose (PG 14.923) mentions the existence of numerous Solomonic psalms in his day, which suggests that it was common to attribute unknown psalms to the biblical Solomon. 10. See further, Kenneth Atkinson, ‘The Salome No One Knows: Long-time Ruler of a Prosperous and Peaceful Judea Mentioned in Dead Sea Scrolls’, BAR 34 (2008), pp. 60–5, 72. 11. See further, James C. VanderKam, From Joshua to Caiaphas: High Priests after the Exile (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2004), pp. 337–85. 12. The relevant historical background of the Hasmonean dynasty, and the subsequent Roman occupation of Judea, is described in full in Emil Schürer, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ (175 B.C.–A.D.135) (eds Geza Vermes, Fergus Millar, and Martin Goodman; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, rev. edn, 1973–87), pp. 1.137–242. It is very likely that the Psalms of Solomon were updated, or later understood, to reflect conditions under Herod the Great. See further, Kenneth Atkinson, ‘On the Herodian Origin of Militant Davidic Messianism at Qumran: New Light from Psalm of Solomon 17’, JBL 118 (1999), pp. 135–60; Benedikt Eckhardt, ‘PsSal 17, die Hasmonäer und der Herodompeius’, JSJ 40 (2009), pp. 465–92. 13. Atkinson, I Cried, pp. 52–3, 211.

148

This World and the World to Come

the Psalms of Solomon’s focus on Jerusalem, the majority of scholars believe they were written there.14 The Psalms of Solomon’s historical background and geographical locale are important for understanding its soteriology. Because the authors of these poems lived in close proximity to the temple and witnessed the Roman destruction of Jerusalem, they struggle to explain why God allowed this tragic event. The poets of the Psalms of Solomon offer an explanation as to why righteous Jews suffer along with the wicked, and why only the former are assured salvation. The poets believe they alone constitute the truly righteous. Because they are convinced the temple has been polluted, the community of the Psalms of Solomon seeks to atone for sin through prayer and fasting. Salvation is accomplished through acts of daily piety rather than participation in the sacrificial system. 1.3. Community The Psalms of Solomon is exceptional among the Jewish pseudepigrapha since it may have achieved canonical status among some Christian communities. This suggests that both Jews and Christians found comfort in its soteriological claims. The Syriac version provides evidence that Christian communities used the Psalms of Solomon in worship. In two of the Syriac manuscripts the Psalms of Solomon follows the 42 Odes of Solomon.15 This suggests that the Psalms of Solomon were once part of the liturgy of some Syriac-speaking Christian communities. The content and headings to the collection suggest that Jews also used these poems during worship, which may account for their later liturgical use among Christian communities.16 Psalms of Solomon 15 and 17 contain the heading ‘with song’ while Psalms of Solomon 10, 14, and 16 bear the superscription ‘hymn’. These, and a few musical notations (Pss. Sol. 17.29; 18.9), suggest that the collection was recited in worship services. 14. See, for example, Sebastian P. Brock, ‘The Psalms of Solomon’, in AOT (ed. H. F. D. Sparks; Oxford: Claredon Press, 1984), pp. 649–82 (652); Denis, Introduction, p. 521; Rudolf Kittel, ‘Die Psalmen Salomos’, in APAT (ed. Emil F. Kautzsch; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1900), pp. 127–48 (2.128); Ryle and James, Psalms of the Pharisees, pp. lviii–lix; Schürer, History, p. 3.195; Viteau, Psaumes de Salomon, pp. 92–4. 15. The first Psalm of Solomon is numbered as the 43rd Ode of Solomon. For the Syriac text and manuscripts, see W. Baars, The Old Testament in Syriac According to the Peshitta Version (4/6 vols; Leiden: Brill, 1972), pp. 1–27. 16. The headings often appear secondary and do not always relate to the particular psalm. They were presumably added when the individual poems were collected together in their present form since a few are rather unusual in Greek. See Svend Holm-Nielsen, ‘Erwägungen zu dem Verhältnis zwischen den Hodajot und den Psalmen Salomos’, in Bibel und Qumran (ed. Siegfried Wagner; Berlin: Evangelische Haupt-Bibelgesellschaft, 1968), pp. 112–31; Wright, ‘The Psalms of Solomon’, in OTP, pp. 639–70 (641); Mikael Winninge, Sinners and the Righteous: A Comparative Study of the Psalms of Solomon and Paul’s Letters (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1995), p. 19.



Enduring the Lord’s Discipline

149

The authors of the Psalms of Solomon use numerous descriptions to describe their community, some of which also suggest that the poems were written for worship. The poets call their group the ‘devout’, ‘the righteous’ and ‘the poor’. The latter word likely refers to the material poverty of their community.17 Franklyn notes that it would have taken only 55 minutes to recite the Psalms of Solomon aloud from start to finish in Greek, and even less time in Hebrew.18 The term ‘the congregations of the devout’ (Pss. Sol. 17.16) suggests that the authors considered themselves to be God-fearing and members of a community that gathered for worship to recite these poems.19 The liturgical use of the Psalms of Solomon is important for understanding their soteriology since the poems were apparently recited in worship. Jews, and later Christians, would have symbolically experienced the suffering of the collection’s authors through communal recitation. The poems would have urged the congregation to accept their righteous suffering as a sign of their future salvation. Because the Psalms of Solomon reflects the penitential prayer tradition, their present arrangement was likely undertaken to meet the needs of the redactor’s community.20 The similarity between some passages in the Psalms of Solomon and the ’Amida may indicate that the work had some influence in the development of later Jewish prayers and liturgy.21 1.4. Genre Scholars have offered several different classifications for the Psalms of Solomon. Westermann groups the poems into the following categories: collective laments (Pss. Sol. 2; 5; 8; 9; 17), individual laments (Pss. Sol. 4; 6; 12; 14), a collective declaration of praise (Pss. Sol. 13.1–4), individual declarations of praise (Pss. Sol. 15; 16), and descriptive psalms of praise 17. For example, ‘devout’ (Pss. Sol. 2.36; 3.8; 4.1, 6, 8; 8.23, 34; 9.3; 10.5, 6; 12.4, 6; 13.10, 12; 14.3 (x2), 10; 15.3, 7; 16 (title); 17.16); ‘righteous’ (Pss. Sol. 2.34-36; 3.3-7, 11; 4.8; 9.7; 10.3; 13.6-10, 11; 15.3, 6-7; 16.15); ‘poor’ (Pss. Sol. 5.2, 11; 10.6; 15.1; 18.2). For the poverty of the Psalms of Solomon’s community, see further, Atkinson, Intertextual Study, pp. 104–7; Robert Hann, ‘The Community of the Pious: The Social Setting of the Psalms of Solomon’, SR 17 (1988), pp. 169–89 (175–7). 18. P. N. Franklyn, ‘The Cultic and Pious Climax of Eschatology in the Psalms of Solomon’, JSJ 17 (1987), pp. 1–17 (5). 19. Kenneth Atkinson, ‘Toward a Redating of the Psalms of Solomon: Implications for Understanding the Sitz im Leben of an Unknown Jewish Sect’, JSP 17 (1998), pp. 95–112 (109–10). 20. See further, Rodney Alan Werline, Penitential Prayer in Second Temple Judaism: The Development of a Religious Institution (SBLEJL, 13; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998), pp. 109–59. 21. Israel Lévi, ‘Les dix-huit bénédictions et les Psaumes de Salomon’, REJ 32 (1896), pp. 161–78; Heerak Christian Kim, The Jerusalem Tradition in the Late Second Temple Period: Diachronic and Synchronic Developments Surrounding Psalms of Solomon 11 (Lanham: University Press of America, 2007), pp. 95–109.

150

This World and the World to Come

(Pss. Sol. 2.33-37; 3; 10; 18).22 Holm-Nielsen groups them into three literary forms: laments (Pss. Sol. 4; 5; 7; 8; 9; 12; 17), thanksgiving psalms (Pss. Sol. 2; 13; 15; 16), and hymns (Pss. Sol. 3; 6; 10; 11; 14; 18).23 Nickelsburg presents a simpler schema and divides them into ‘psalms of the nation’ (Pss. Sol. 1; 2; 7; 8; 11; 17; 18) and ‘psalms of the righteous and the pious’ (Pss. Sol. 3; 4; 6; 9; 10; 13; 14; 15; 16).24 Seifrid and Winninge, however, are skeptical of any attempt to define the genre of the Psalms of Solomon because they believe the collection is too diverse and defies classification into a few categories. Both emphasize that the Psalms of Solomon were intended for instruction and exhortation.25 Embry likewise criticizes scholars for treating the individual psalms in isolation from one another and believes that the composition is to a great extent structured around the messianism of Psalm of Solomon 17.26 Several scholars, moreover, have emphasized the apocalyptic or eschatological content in the Psalms of Solomon, especially the collection’s expectation of a Davidic messiah.27 Although the Psalms of Solomon does contain some apocalyptic elements, its lack of interest in the angelic or heavenly world shows that it should not be classified as an apocalyptic text.28 Because the Psalms of Solomon includes several different types of poems that were likely written by different authors, and collected by a later redactor, it is perhaps inappropriate to use a single descriptive term to classify them.29 The collection includes several classic poetic forms, several of which are reminiscent of the biblical Psalter. Many of the Psalms of Solomon were shaped by the circumstances of their authors living under Hasmonean rule and Roman occupation. The Psalms of Solomon are highly polemical and denounce both the wicked and those who persecute the righteous. They are very similar to the Dead Sea Scroll collection of hymns known as the 22. Claus Westermann, Praise and Lament in the Psalms (Atlanta: Westminster John Knox, 5th edn, 1981), pp. 102, 124, 137–8, 206. 23. Svend Holm-Nielsen, ‘Die Psalmen Salomos’, in JSHRZ (eds W. G. Kümmel, et al.; vol. 4.2; Gütersloh: Gerd Mohn, 1977), pp. 51–112 (55–9). 24. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, pp. 238–47. 25. Mark A. Seifrid, Justification by Faith: The Origin and Development of a Central Pauline Theme (NovTSup, 68; Leiden: Brill, 1992), pp. 113–17; Winninge, Sinners, pp. 16–19. 26. Brad Embry, ‘The Psalms of Solomon and the New Testament: Intertexuality and the Need for a Re-Evaluation’, JSP 13 (2002), pp. 99–136. 27. Johannes Tromp, ‘The Davidic Messiah in Jewish Eschatology of the First Century bce’, in Restoration: Old Testament, Jewish, and Christian Perspectives (ed. James M. Scott; JSJSup, 72; Leiden: Brill, 2001), pp. 179–202 (187–91). 28. See further, John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to the Jewish Apocalyptic Literature (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2nd edn, 1998), p. 143; Rodney A. Werline, ‘The Psalms of Solomon and the Ideology of Rule’, in Conflicted Boundaries in Wisdom and Apocalypticism (eds Benjamin G. Wright III and Lawrence M. Wills; Atlanta: SBL, 2005), pp. 69–87. 29. For the diverse literary forms in the Psalms of Solomon, see further, Delcor, ‘Psaumes de Salomon’, pp. 225–9.



Enduring the Lord’s Discipline

151

Hodayot, which also espouses distinctive religious teachings and denounces its opponents (1QH 12.25-29; 15.24-25, passim).30 The Psalms of Solomon and the Dead Sea Scrolls share two features in common that are important for understanding their soteriology: frequent intertextual allusions and a condemnation of the temple cult. Although none of these texts are history in the traditional sense, they nevertheless provide much historical information, which is often oblique and indirect.31 Like many of the Qumran texts, the Psalms of Solomon’s authors preferred to use sobriquets rather than name their adversaries.32 In the case of the Psalms of Solomon, the conscious decision of their authors to avoid names adds to the collection’s timeliness. This may offer an explanation for the later use of these poems among elements of the Syriac Christian Church. The Psalms of Solomon’s ambiguous historical references, and its statements about underserved suffering and soteriology, apparently addressed the spiritual needs of later communities experiencing actual or perceived persecution. 2. The Covenant Soteriology, the doctrine of salvation, is a central issue throughout the Psalms of Solomon. The Psalms of Solomon’s authors often appeal to the Hebrew Bible’s notion of the covenant to support their soteriological claims. They believe that the covenant guarantees that God will always look after Israel (Pss. Sol. 7.8; 9.8–11; 11.7; 14.5; 17.4). This conviction is perhaps nowhere stated more explicitly than in Psalm of Solomon 9, whose author proclaims: And you chose the offspring of Abraham above all the nations, and you placed your name upon us, O Lord, and you will not reject us forever. You made a covenant with our ancestors concerning us, and we shall hope in you when we return our souls toward you. The mercy of the Lord is upon the house of Israel forever and ever (Pss. Sol. 9.9–11).

Here the poet appeals to the concept of election to support his belief that God will save Israel. However, the psalmist does not imply that God gave the commandments as a consequence of election to guarantee salvation. The Torah (Law) does not mean that all Jews will be saved. Rather, God has given the Torah to the Jews to help Israel deal with sin (Pss. Sol. 9.2). The psalmist recognizes that the righteous, including his own community, is not 30. Holm-Nielsen, ‘Erwägungen’, pp. 120–6; G. Morawe, ‘Vergleich des Aufbaus der Danklieder und hymnischen Bekenntnislieder (1QH) von Qumran mit dem Aufbau der Psalmen im Alten Testament und im Spätjudentum’, RevQ 15 (1963), pp. 342–56. 31. For this issue, see further John J. Collins, Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), pp. 88– 121. 32. Atkinson, I Cried, pp. 9–11.

152

This World and the World to Come

perfect. The devout, as the author of Psalm of Solomon 3 makes clear, are not those who are free from sin, but those who confess their transgressions and justify God (Pss. Sol. 3.3). The Psalms of Solomon’s writers sometimes appeal to the covenant to explain Jerusalem’s recent destruction by Pompey. Like other Jewish pseudepigrapha, they stress that God has punished Jerusalem because of the sins of its inhabitants.33 The Psalms of Solomon’s authors recognize that Israel is often punished collectively for its transgressions. In the past God not only allowed Jerusalem to be destroyed, but also sent many Jews into exile (Pss. Sol. 9.1-2). The problem for the community of the Psalms of Solomon is how to distinguish between those Jews who are saved and those who are excluded from salvation if all are supposedly protected by God’s covenant. How, moreover, does one merit God’s deliverance, if it is even possible to earn it? E. P. Sanders has proposed using the expression ‘pattern of religion’ to describe how adherents of a religion understood their faith to function. This includes the mechanisms through which members are admitted and retained. He proposes that a pattern of belief he calls ‘covenantal nomism’ was so pervasive in Palestinian Judaism from 200 bce to 200 ce that it was, for the most part, the religion of Judaism. Sanders writes: Covenantal nomism is the view that one’s place in God’s plan is established on the basis of the covenant and that the covenant requires as the proper response of man his obedience to its commandments, while providing means of atonement for transgression … Obedience maintains one’s position in the covenant, but it does not earn God’s grace as such … Righteousness in Judaism is a term which implies the maintenance of status among the group of the elect.34

Although Sanders does not claim that covenantal nomism is the only pattern of religion, his concept is particularly helpful for understanding soteriology in the Psalms of Solomon since many of the individual poems in the collection deal with ritual observance and Law (Torah).35 The concept of ‘covenantal nomism’ emphasizes both covenant and Torah: neither is to be neglected. Jews were expected to obey the Law not merely as a means to get into the covenant. Rather, obedience is necessary to maintain one’s position in the covenant: it was never intended to guarantee protection from harm or prosperity. If Israel adheres to its obligations to the best of 33. For this theme in the Psalms of Solomon and other Jewish pseudepigrapha, see Kamila Blessing, ‘Desolate Jerusalem and Barren Matriarch: Two Distinct Figures in the Pseudepigrapha’, JSP 18 (1998), pp. 47–69. 34. E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977), p. 75 (see also pp. 420, 426, 544). 35. Sanders acknowledges, for example, that 4 Ezra does not follow the pattern of covenantal nomism, but is legalistic. Collins emphasizes that Hellenistic Judaism was not as uniform as Sanders suggests, and notes that covenantal nomism could exist with other patterns in a subordinate role. See John J. Collins, Between Athens and Jerusalem: Jewish Identity in Hellenistic Diaspora (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2nd edn, 1999), pp. 19–24.



Enduring the Lord’s Discipline

153

its ability, then it can expect long life, health, safety, fertility of the land, and children (Deut. 28.1-4). But the covenant also warns that disobedience results in curses: shortened life, sickness, famine, barrenness, invasion, and captivity (Deut. 28.15-19). This cycle of cause and effect can be broken if Israel as a nation repents and rightly obeys the Torah (Deut. 30.1-10). This cannot occur unless humans return to covenantal obedience, as exemplified through righteous actions and a willingness to be punished.36 This understanding of Israel’s relationship with the covenant is also found in Galatians and the Qumran literature, especially 4QMMT. In both of these texts obedience to the Law is understood as the consequence of being in the covenant and as a requirement for remaining in the covenant.37 Abegg comments on obedience to the Torah in 4QMMT: ‘It is not the entrance into a relationship with God; it is the maintenance policy to that relationship’.38 According to this understanding, the covenant does not guarantee that the righteous community of the Psalms of Solomon will be rewarded with prosperity for their obedience to their Torah. This is because all have sinned and therefore deserve God’s punishment. The authors of the Psalms of Solomon frequently appeal to the covenant to explain their present suffering. The poems proclaim that God’s covenant with Israel is eternal and guarantees that the righteous will receive eternal life (Pss. Sol. 7.8-10; 9.1-2, 8-11; 11.7-11; 13.11; 14.2-5; 17.4). The Psalms of Solomon’s authors acknowledge that no one is without sin: even the devout have committed unintentional transgressions (Pss. Sol. 3.7; 13.10).39 Although they still regard themselves as members of the covenant community, the authors of these poems recognize that they are sinners (Pss. Sol. 3.6-8; 5.6; 9.2, 6-7; 10.1; 13.7, 10; 16.11; 17.5). But they also believe that the covenant rests on a foundation of God’s grace. It invites healing of the breach created by sin, and a restoration of the covenantal blessings. Nickelsburg writes on this relationship in ancient Judaism: Justice and grace are two sides of the covenantal coin. God rewards or punishes human actions, but in the latter case God graciously invites the renewed obedience that will be rewarded. Conversely, one must respond to God’s gracious invitation through obedient action if the blessing is to return.40

For the righteous, salvation is possible if it is accompanied by an inner motivation to repent. Sinners are those unconcerned with the consequences 36. For this understanding of the covenant, see further, Nickelsburg, Ancient Judaism, esp. pp. 32–3. 37. Sanders, Paul, pp. 319–20. 38. Martin G. Abegg, ‘4QMMT, Paul and “Works of the Law”’, in The Bible at Qumran: Texts, Shape, and Interpretation (eds Peter W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 2001), pp. 203–16 (214). See also CD 19.33–20.10; 1QS 11.11-15. 39. See further Adolf Büchler, Types of Jewish-Palestinian Piety from 70 B.C.E. to 70 C.E. The Ancient Pious Men (London: Jews’ College Publications, 1922), pp. 137–8; Winninge, Sinners, pp. 133–4. 40. Nickelsburg, Ancient Judaism, p. 56.

154

This World and the World to Come

of their transgressions, and therefore stand under the full judgement of God’s covenant. One of the central problems for the writers of the Psalms of Solomon is their belief that the covenant promises that God will treat Israel differently and protect it (Pss. Sol. 5.18; 7.8, 10; 9.8-11; 11.7; 12.6; 14.5; 15.1; 17.4, 21, 44; 18.3; see also Pss. Sol. 4.1; 9.2; 12.6; 18.5). However, the reality of their present situation would appear to argue otherwise. The community behind these poems is under great duress and continues to suffer at the hands of their political enemies (Pss. Sol. 4.2-8; 12.1-6; 15.4-13; 17.4-6, 19-20) and foreign aggressors (Pss. Sol. 2.1-2; 7.1-3; 8.18-22; 13.1-4; 17.11-18). The authors of the Psalms of Solomon, while believing that the covenant requires them to justify God’s actions (Pss. Sol. 2.15; 3.3; 4.8; 8.7, 26, 32, 40; 9.2, 5), at times appears to question God’s justice and plead for an end to their suffering (Pss. Sol. 2.22; 8.30-32). The Psalms of Solomon’s authors look to Scripture to understand their present situation and salvation. They believe that God allows catastrophic events to occur, including the recent Roman destruction and occupation of Jerusalem, as punishment for sin (Pss. Sol. 2.2-10, 15-21, 32-35; 8.7, 8, 2326; 9.1-2; 17.8). The seventeenth psalm espouses this belief when it looks to the Davidic covenant to explain the demise of the Hasmonean monarchy and the Roman destruction of Jerusalem. Its author follows the traditional Deuteronomic theology and attributes the blame for its end to Israel’s sin (Pss. Sol. 17.4-6). Here, and elsewhere in the collection, the sinners responsible for these events are primarily Jews. The Psalms of Solomon’s authors emphasize that God’s covenant protects all Jews, even the righteous who are now suffering at the hands of Jewish and pagan oppressors. But the prosperity of the wicked appears to call into question the entire notion of God’s covenant. This issue is especially problematic when the sinners are not only Jews, but also priests in control of the temple. The Psalms of Solomon’s authors take it for granted that all Jews sin. This is even true of the righteous. But the writers of the collection believe there is a difference between sinners when it comes to salvation. They use the concept of discipline to explain this distinction. Discipline is intimately connected with soteriology in the Psalms of Solomon. The authors of these poems are convinced that the devout are those who willingly accept God’s chastisement. Happy is the man whom the Lord remembers with reproving, and who is fenced from the evil road by a whip, that he may be cleansed from sin, that it may not increase. He who prepares his back for lashes shall be cleansed, For the Lord is kind to those who endure discipline. For he will straighten the ways of the righteous, and will not turn them by discipline, And the pity of the Lord is upon those who love him in truth. (Pss. Sol. 10.1-3)



Enduring the Lord’s Discipline

155

Here the poet not only stresses that the devout sin, but emphasizes that sin has exceeded the tolerable limit, which makes punishment inevitable.41 This discipline is similar to the sacrificial cult: it functions as purification and as a means to wipe away sin (Pss. Sol. 10.1-2; 13.10).42 The Psalms of Solomon’s writers portray God as a harsh disciplinarian, much like the ancient ‘pedagogue’. These persons were instructors and moral disciplinarians who not only punished youths under their care and protection, but also taught self-restraint. They had a reputation for being quite harsh. Yet, Philo defends their severe discipline since it is given as a friend to protect and instill virtue.43 Like children under the authority and care of a pedagogue, the Psalms of Solomon’s authors recognize that they too are like children under the ‘yoke’ and ‘whip’ of God’s discipline (Pss. Sol. 7.9). God is like a pedagogue and administers harsh punishment not to destroy, but to keep the devout within the covenantal relationship (Pss. Sol. 13.10).44 Despite its severity, this chastisement is an expression of God’s mercy (Pss. Sol. 9.6; 10.2-4; 13.8-12; 16.15; 18.4-9). Therefore, the pious must not consider their present misfortune and suffering as a sign of God’s neglect, but as a form of divine chastisement that will lead to salvation (Pss. Sol. 3.4; 7.3, 9; 8.26, 29; 10.1-4; 13.7, 10; 16.4, 11-15). 3. Saving righteousness The relationship between God’s law and divine discipline forms the basis for the Psalms of Solomon’s understanding of salvation. According to Psalm of Solomon 9.6-11, God’s mercy is based on the covenant made with Abraham, which requires God to never reject Israel. This text may appear to espouse the belief that God rewards the righteous for their merits. Braun believes it advocates a religion of righteousness by works because its contains the following passage: ‘The one who practices righteousness stores up life for himself with the Lord, and the one who practices injustice is responsible for the destruction of his own soul’ (Pss. Sol. 9.5). He understands piety as a presupposition for the attainment of divine mercy: prayer for mercy produces God’s grace.45 However, he also notes a contrast throughout the collection between statements of free mercy and earned mercy, which he believes is a symptom of the author’s uncertainty as to his salvation.46

41. For this understanding, see Winninge, Sinners, p. 139. 42. See also, Nickelsburg, Ancient Judaism, p. 66. 43. Philo, Poster. C. 97. 44. Atkinson, Intertextual, pp. 263–6; Jens Schröter, ‘Gerechtigkeit und Barmherzigkeit: das Gottesbild der Psalmen Salomos in seinem Verhältnis zu Qumran und Paulus’, NTS 44 (1998), pp. 557–77 (569). 45. Herbert Braun, ‘Vom Erbarmen Gottes über den Gerechten. Zur Theologie der Psalmen Salomos’, ZNW 43 (1950/51), pp. 1–54 (33). 46. Braun, ‘Vom Erbarmen’, p. 47.

156

This World and the World to Come

Seifrid’s interpretation of the Psalms of Solomon is similar to Braun’s since he also believes that the devout can earn salvation through pious actions. He believes that sinners have no part in God’s plan of redemption since God’s mercy is distributed on the basis of righteous deeds. According to Seifrid, God’s mercy follows pious behaviour.47 The problem with Braun and Seifrid is that they view pious behaviour in soteriological terms. Winninge notes that this view is problematic since it claims that obedience is a requirement to participate in the covenant when it is actually a necessary consequence of being within the sphere of salvation.48 Psalm of Solomon 9 is crucial in the debate over the concept of soteriology in the collection. Braun believes that righteousness in this poem consists of individual deeds, accompanied by a proper attitude, which God will justify with a reward, namely salvation.49 Schüpphaus rejects this view and argues that the pious merely display a consciousness of their inadequacy before God’s demand for righteousness. He proposes that the righteous in Psalm of Solomon 9.4-5 are responsible for their actions, and will have to render an accounting for them before God.50 This psalm clearly describes free will, but it also acknowledges that the Lord will grant mercy to the righteous only when they have confessed and acknowledged their sins (Pss. Sol. 9.67). However, Psalm of Solomon 5.4 clearly contradicts this belief when it claims: ‘For man and his portion are before you in the balance; he cannot increase it beyond your judgment, O God’. The authors of the Psalms of Solomon appear to contradict themselves since they espouse both predestination and free will in their effort to explain divine injustice. The view that the Psalms of Solomon espouses the concept of work’s righteousness rests on Psalms of Solomon 9.5. It is, moreover, based on an outdated picture of Pharisaic Judaism and the view that the collection is the product of the Pharisees.51 Josephus writes of this particular form of Judaism: ‘… as for the Pharisees, they say that certain events are the work of Fate, but not all; as to other events, it depends upon ourselves whether they shall take place or not’ (Ant. 13.172). This would appear to represent the perspective of the Psalms of Solomon since it espouses both predestination (Pss. Sol. 5.34) and free will (Pss. Sol. 9.4). However, Josephus contradicts himself in his War (1.162-63) when he states that the Pharisees attribute everything to Fate. Theological consistency was apparently not a hallmark of many ancient Jewish authors.52 47. Seifrid, Justification, pp. 109–12, 131–3. This contradicts Psalm of Solomon 16, which states that God even forgives the most serious transgressions. 48. Winninge, Sinners, pp. 201–2. 49. Braun, ‘Vom Erbarmen’, pp. 27–9. 50. Joachim Schüpphaus, Die Psalmen Salomons: Ein Zeugnis Jerusalemer Theologie und Frömigkeit in der Mitte des vorchristlichen Jarhunderts (Leiden: Brill, 1977), pp. 101–4. 51. Ryle and James, Psalms of the Pharisees, pp. xliv–lii. 52. Mishnah Abot 3.16 also exhibits this same theological contradiction. See Ephraim E. Urbach, The Sages: Their Concepts and Beliefs (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1987), pp. 257–8. See further, Atkinson, Intertextual, pp. 207–8.



Enduring the Lord’s Discipline

157

Many scholars of the Psalms of Solomon have failed to recognize the problem with using Josephus as a reference work to support their theological understanding of these poems. As Mason notes, Josephus portrays Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes, and Therapeutae as philosophers since our word ‘religion’ was not in his vocabulary: he often distorts their beliefs to support his own agenda.53 In his War, Josephus’ description of the Pharisees mirrors the Stoic view that ‘everything is caused by Fate’. We cannot take this claim at face value just like we cannot accept his statement in Ant. 15.371 that Pythagoras introduced the Essene lifestyle to Greece or Strabo’s claim that the Jews were vegetarians and practised male and female circumcision.54 Despite the lack of evidence to associate the Psalms of Solomon with the Pharisees, it still finds adherents who tend to read these poems through Josephus’ description of this sect.55 Psalm of Solomon 5 undoubtedly espouses a belief in predestination. The word ‘judgments’ (to\ kri&ma) in this poem likely translates an original Hebrew qwx with the meaning of ‘what has been prescribed’.56 Because it is part of a larger collection, we must ask how those who recited the Psalms of Solomon in worship would have understood this particular poem. It is wrong to view it as espousing strict determinism since Psalm of Solomon 9.4 refutes this belief. Rather, the author of Psalm of Solomon 5 uses the metaphor of God’s care for all creation as a paradigm for human generosity, which is a characteristic of the righteous.57 The author of Psalm of Solomon 9, moreover, expresses his confidence that God’s faithfulness to the covenant assures the righteous that they will receive mercy and forgiveness for their sins if they chose to acknowledge and confess their transgressions.58 The true righteous are those who fear the Lord. This not only requires confession of sins, but acceptance of God’s chastisement. The Psalms of Solomon’s apparent theological inconsistency is not unusual for this period.59 The writers (or redactor/s) of the Psalms of 53. Steve Mason, ‘Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism: Problems of Categorization in Ancient History’, JSJ 38 (2007), pp. 457–512 (486). 54. For Josephus’ view of the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes, and Stoic beliefs regarding Fate, see further, Steve Mason with Honora Chapman, Flavius Josephus Translation and Commentary: Volume 1B Judean War 2 (Leiden: Brill, 2008), pp. 84–135. 55. The following are among those who accept a Pharisaic authorship: Winninge, Sinners, pp. 171–8; Schüpphaus, Die Psalmen Salomos, pp. 127–37; W. L. Lane, ‘Paul’s Legacy From Pharisaism: Light From the Psalms of Solomon’, CJ 8 (1982), pp. 130–8. For problems with this identification, see further, Atkinson, I Cried, pp. 5–7. 56. George B. Gray, ‘The Psalms of Solomon’, in APOT 2.637. Winninge, Sinners, p. 113. 57. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, p. 245. 58. Atkinson, Intertextual, pp. 201–3. See also, Sanders, Paul, pp. 394–9; Schüpphaus, Psalmen, p. 51; Winninge, Sinners, pp. 74–5. 59. J. O’Dell, ‘The Religious Background of the Psalms of Solomon (Re-Evaluated in the Light of the Qumran Texts)’, RevQ 3 (1961), pp. 241–57 (244–5); Winninge, Sinners, pp. 177–8; Wright, ‘The Psalms of Solomon, the Pharisees and the Essenes’, in 1972 procedings for the International Organization for Septuagint and Cogntate Studies and

158

This World and the World to Come

Solomon allow this tension between fate and free will to stand to show that God is sovereign while acknowledging that humans have a responsibility to repent and acknowledge God’s justice. Although covenant is an important concept throughout the Psalms of Solomon, the collection says nothing about the commandments, even though it includes frequent itemizations of sins (Pss. Sol. 2.11, 13; 4.3-5, 9-12, 20; 8.8-13). These sins listed are largely generic, and include arrogance (Pss. Sol. 1.5-6; 17.6, 13), theft from the temple (Pss. Sol. 8.11), defilement of the sanctuary (Pss. Sol. 1.7-8; 2.3), as well as slander and deceit (Pss. Sol. 12.1-4). Psalms of Solomon 3, 5, 6, 9, 10, 11, 14, 16 largely deal with theological matters and not political crises.60 The Law itself is only mentioned in two places (Pss. Sol. 4.8; 14.13). The collection’s understanding of the Law is largely restricted to matters of halakah, especially its connection of ritual defilement with sexuality. Sexuality is a major concern in the Psalms of Solomon. Its authors heap great scorn on the temple priests for their lack of attention to ritual purity. Psalm of Solomon 8 condemns them for three specific crimes: adultery, theft from the sanctuary, and the defilement of the temple (Pss. Sol. 8.10-12). The Damascus Document (CD 4.15-18) also lists these same three sins, namely fornication, wealth, and defilement of the temple.61 For the authors of the Psalms of Solomon and the Dead Sea Scrolls, sexual contact with impure women and incest defiles the sanctuary morally. Unlike ritual purity, which is to a great extent unavoidable, moral impurity is the result of sin and pollutes the land and its occupants.62 For the authors of the Psalms of Solomon, illicit marriages among the priests, and the clergy’s improper adherence to the laws of cleanliness regarding sexuality, were a major reason why God allowed Pompey’s invasion.63 These acts, moreover, place one’s salvation in peril. According to the Psalms of Solomon’s authors, all Jews are under the protection of the covenant. The writers of these poems believe that the covenant obligates God to guard Israel. However, all Jews are not equal. The difference between the devout and the sinners is that the pious community of these poems repeatedly acknowledges God’s righteousness.64 For the writers of the Psalms of Solomon, righteousness does not depend only upon following the Law. Rather, the truly righteous are those who first acknowledge God’s righteousness. Psalm of Solomon 9.6-7 even hints that Gentiles can be the Society of Biblical Literature Pseudepigrapha Seminar (ed. Robert A. Kraft; SBLSCS, 2; Missoula, MT: SBL, 1972), pp. 136–54. 60. Atkinson, I Cried, pp. 181–203. 61. This list, ‘The nets of Belial’, is also alluded to in 4QpPsa II, 1–10. Cf. also Sib. Or. 1.172; 2.65-75, 255-60; 4.30-35; T. Mos. 5.4-6. 62. Jonathan Klawans, ‘Idolatry, Incest, and Impurity: Moral Defilement in Ancient Judaism’, JSJ 29 (1998), pp. 391–415. 63. See further, Atkinson, I Cried, pp. 55–87. 64. Dieter Lührmann, ‘Paul and the Pharisaic Tradition’, JSNT 36 (1989), pp. 75–94 (81–2); Schröter, ‘Gerechtigkeit und Barmherzigkeit’, pp. 567–8. Cf. Schüpphaus, Psalmen, p. 100.



Enduring the Lord’s Discipline

159

righteous, since it suggests righteousness is dependent upon acknowledging God’s justice. But this does not mean that Gentiles are saved because of their behaviour; the collection portrays them as lawless and rejected by God (Pss. Sol. 2.2, 19-25; 7.1-3; 8.23; 17.13-15).65 Salvation is not possible without the Torah, whose edicts must be fulfilled. Major sins do not nullify the provisions of the covenant. It is God’s underserved grace that initiated the covenant, and which invites renewed obedience that will result in salvation. The Psalms of Solomon’s attitude towards the covenant is similar to Paul, who also argued that the fulfilment of the Law does not make the devout person righteous before God. Paul likewise recognized that all have sinned. He agreed with the writers of the Psalms of Solomon that the devout are actually sinners who have acknowledged God’s righteousness.66 For the community of the Psalms of Solomon, obedience to the covenant, through the acknowledgment of God’s justice, is the key to explaining the righteous person’s relationship with God under the covenant. The pious remain in the covenant unless they sin to such an extent that God removes them. The priests, rulers, and those who betrayed Jerusalem to the Gentiles (Pss. Sol. 8.16-17) are among those excluded from salvation. The community of the Psalms of Solomon believes that it constitutes the true Israel because its members live in accordance with the covenant, and are therefore assured salvation.67 God deals with them differently than ordinary sinners. He disciplines them rather than punishes them to cleanse them of their sins.68 The devout show their obedience to the Torah by avoiding the polluted sanctuary and its defiled priests, and by practicing daily acts of righteousness. The Psalms of Solomon’s authors reject the validity of the temple and its priests because they have contaminated the sanctuary, and have failed to follow the Torah.69 For this reason, the writers of these poems urge their followers to avoid the temple. This, however, creates a problem since the Torah mandates worship and sacrifice. The pious, according to the Psalms of Solomon, therefore, must adopt a lifestyle of constant vigilance to assure their salvation. The poet of Psalm of Solomon 3 perhaps best expresses this belief when he writes: The truth of the righteous is from their divine saviour; in the house of the righteous sin upon sin does not lodge. The righteous always searches his house, to remove his injustice in transgression. He made atonement for sins of ignorance by fasting and humiliation of his soul, And the Lord cleanses every devout man and his house. (Pss. Sol. 3.6-8)

65. 66. 67. 68. 69. p. 63.

See further, Wright, ‘Psalms of Solomon’, p. 645. See, Gal. 2.15-16; Rom. 3.8-20. Lührmann, ‘Paul’, p. 88. For this understanding, see further, Sanders, Paul, pp. 407–9. For this concept, see further, Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, pp. 244–6. See further, Atkinson, I Cried, p. 20; Holm-Nielsen, ‘Die Psalmen Salomos’,

160

This World and the World to Come

Fasting, for the author, is the means by which the guilt incurred through unintentional sin can be removed.70 Although Psalm of Solomon 3.8 alludes to Leviticus’ concept of ‘humbling’ the soul, it ignores the biblical requirement of an offering of two goats to atone for unintentional sin (Lev. 4–5). The belief that piety, through confession, penance, and fasting can atone for sin in place of sacrifice suggests that the writer belongs to a distinctive sectarian community that worships apart from the Temple cult. The poet transfers atonement from cultic acts to everyday life.71 The psalmist’s conviction that acts of contrition can atone for sins is, in many respects, similar to the Qumran community’s belief that prayer has replaced sacrifice in the Jerusalem temple (1QS 9.3-6; 4QFlor 1.6-7). The members of the Qumran sect believed they could fulfil some of the functions that Leviticus reserved for the priests by writing texts that described how the Temple should operate, or how it should be reconstructed in the future.72 According to the authors of the Psalms of Solomon, constant prayer, confession, fasting, and worship are all required to appease God’s wrath and merit salvation. It is this behaviour that distinguishes those Jews who are saved from those who will earn God’s eternal wrath. 4. The Messiah The Psalms of Solomon expects the Davidic messiah to play a role in salvation. Psalms of Solomon 17 is a lengthy poem describing the community’s expectations of what will occur at the time of his arrival. The author expects the Davidic messiah to remove the Gentiles from the land, gather the dispersed, and rule as Israel’s judge. He will be able to accomplish this because he is ‘the anointed of the Lord’ (Pss. Sol. 17.32).73 Although human, he possesses many seemingly divine attributes: he is ‘pure from sin’ (Pss. Sol. 17.36), possesses great wisdom, strength, and righteousness (Pss. Sol. 17.22, 37). He will be a ‘righteous king, taught by God’ and there will be ‘no injustice in his days’ (Pss. Sol. 17.32). His reign will bring about the expansion of Israel to its former glory by expanding its borders (Pss. 70. See further, Atkinson, ‘Theodicy in the Psalms of Solomon’, in Theodicy in the World of the Bible (eds Antii Laato and Johannes C. de Moor; Leiden: Brill, 2003), pp. 569–72. 71. See further, Atkinson, ‘Toward a Redating’, p. 109; Lührmann, ‘Paul’, pp. 83–4; Winninge, Sinners, pp. 40–1. 72. Robert A. Kugler, ‘Rewriting Rubrics: Sacrifice and the Religion of Qumran’, in Religion in the Dead Sea Scrolls (eds John J. Collins and Robert A. Kugler; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), pp. 90–112; Lawrence H. Schiffman, ‘The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Early History of Jewish Liturgy’, in The Synagogue in Late Antiquity (ed. Lee L. Levine; Philadelphia: American Schools of Oriental Research, 1987), pp. 33–48. 73. The Psalms of Solomon’s Greek manuscripts all contain xristo_j ku/rioj. The identical reading (‫ )ܡܪܝܐ ܡܫܝܚܐ‬is found in the Syriac version (Syriac 17.36). For the evidence that this is a mistranslation and should read xristo_j kuri&ou, see Atkinson, I Cried, pp. 131–2 n. 2.



Enduring the Lord’s Discipline

161

Sol. 17.28), and bringing Jews from the Diaspora back to Israel (Pss. Sol. 17.26-29, 43-46; cf. Pss. Sol. 11).74 Although there is both a political and national side to the messiah’s kingdom, the psalmist emphasizes the spiritual side by highlighting his holiness and purity. The poet’s confidence that the messiah will be pure from sin is likely required by the purity of Israel in the eschatological age.75 Psalm of Solomon 18 also describes this time and portrays the nation as God’s firstborn, only begotten, son: God disciplines Israel like a parent punishes a child for its own good (Pss. Sol. 18.4). Nickelesburg comments that this psalm somewhat mutes the tragedy of 63 bce and emphasizes the close relationship between God and God’s people, as well as the hope for the blessings of the messianic age.76 Like Psalm of Solomon 17, this poem depicts the author’s ideal world. This and the preceding poem, moreover, regard the messianic expectations of Ezekiel 34 and 37, in conjunction with Ezekiel 40–48, as under fulfilment.77 The authors of the Psalms of Solomon look forward to a perfect society of peace, righteousness, and holiness. Their portrait of the messiah describes an ideal Jewish ruler. The community of these poems looks forward to a golden age, in which the righteous will live in peace and harmony under the messiah’s rule. Despite the doom and destruction evident throughout the collection, the Psalms of Solomon is a hopeful work. It urges the pious to remain steadfast, accept their present suffering as a sign of God’s chastisement and as a mark of their salvation. Until the messiah’s arrival, they must continue to remain faithful, and observe acts of piety to earn their rightful reward, eternal life. 5. Resurrection The community of the Psalms of Solomon expects God to intervene in history, visit the earth, and judge its inhabitants (Pss. Sol. 10.4; 11.6; 15.12). The authors refer to this time as the ‘day of the Lord’s judgment’ (Pss. Sol. 15.12) and the time of ‘his visitation’ (Pss. Sol. 10.4; 11.6). On that day, sinners will be marked for judgement (Pss. Sol. 2.31, 34; 3.12; 15.12). The righteous will be among those who ‘shall rise to eternal life’ (Pss. Sol. 3.12). The collection emphasizes that the righteous will continue forever (Pss. Sol. 13.11). 74. For the messiah in Psalm of Solomon 17, see further, Atkinson, I Cried, pp. 129– 79; Gene L. Davenport, ‘The “Anointed of the Lord in Psalms of Solomon 17”’, in Ideal Figures in Ancient Judaism: Profiles and Paradigms (eds John J. Collins and George W. E. Nickelsburg; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1980), pp. 67–92; Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, pp. 241–3; 75. John J. Collins, The Scepter and the Star: The Messiahs of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Ancient Literature (ABRL; New York: Doubleday, 1995), pp. 53–6. 76. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, pp. 243–4. 77. Antii Laato, A Star Is Rising: The Historical Development of the Old Testament Royal Ideology and the Rise of the Jewish Messianic Expectations (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1997), pp. 279–84.

162

This World and the World to Come

In a paraphrase of canonical Psalm 1, the author of Psalm of Solomon 14 compares the righteous who endure God’s discipline and follow his ordinances to trees that will never be uprooted (Pss. Sol. 14.1-3). In contrast, sinners will face Hades, darkness, and destruction (Pss. Sol. 14.9; 15.10). The promise that ‘the devout of the Lord will inherit life in joy’ (Pss. Sol. 14.10) likely alludes to resurrection since the previous verse emphasizes the eternal punishment of the sinners.78 Psalm of Solomon 15 apparently describes the future day of judgement (Pss. Sol. 15.12-13) since it states that God has placed the ‘mark of God’ on the devout to indicate their salvation and a corresponding ‘mark of destruction’ on the wicked (Pss. Sol. 15.6-9).79 These passages show that the community of the Psalms of Solomon believed in resurrection. Because this doctrine is found in a wide variety of Jewish literature composed by different sectarian groups, its presence does not help us identify the sectarian community of these poems.80 6. Conclusion The Psalms of Solomon’s authors have a somewhat unorthodox view of what salvation is. They believe it depends on being in the covenant community since the covenant guarantees that God will always look after Israel (Pss. Sol. 7.8; 9.8-11; 11.7; 14.5; 17.4). However, because they are convinced that the temple is defiled, they do not connect salvation with a physical sanctuary. Instead of participating in the sacrificial system, the Psalms of Solomon’s writers believe that acts of daily piety, including prayer and fasting, can atone for sin (Pss. Sol. 3.6-8). Separation from the temple, moreover, is essential for salvation since participation in its rituals does not remove sin, but creates additional ritual defilement. It is those Jews who worship apart from the temple, and live an ascetical lifestyle of frequent prayer, fasting, and acts of daily piety, who merit God’s salvation. This group’s separation from the Temple cult also does not help determine their religious background, since other Jews during the first century bce, such as the group behind 4QMMT, worshipped apart from the Temple since they too believed it was defiled. However, what makes the community behind the Psalms of Solomon unique is their distinctive belief that prayer, fasting, and suffering remove sin (Pss. Sol. 10.1-2; 13.10). Unlike other Jewish groups, eschatology is not a major concern for the writers of the Psalms of Solomon because they do not tie resurrection with an imminent expectation of the

78. Atkinson, I Cried, pp. 202–3. 79. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, p. 246. Viteau (Psaumes, p. 331) notes that the mark on the sinners is not the cause of their destruction, but the result of their lifestyle. 80. See, for example, 1 En. 22.3, 9-13; 25.4-7; 91.10; 92.3; 100.5; T. Levi 18.11; T. Sim. 6.7; T. Jud. 25.1; T. Zeb. 10.2. See also Atkinson, I Cried, pp. 196-97; O’Dell, ‘The Religious Background’, pp. 245–6; Wright, ‘The Psalms of Solomon, the Pharisees and the Essenes’, p. 139.



Enduring the Lord’s Discipline

163

end (Pss. Sol. 3, 13, 14, 15).81 The community of the Psalms of Solomon is confident that if they remain within the covenant, by acknowledging their sins and accepting divine punishment, then God will carry out justice in the resurrection if it is not administered in this world. The collection as a whole urges perseverance in difficult times. Its authors are firm in their belief that God will save the truly devout.

81.

See further Nickelsburg, Ancient Judaism, p. 154.

Part IV Philosophical Texts

Chapter 10

Travelling The Royal Road: The Soteriology of Philo of Alexandria Ronald R. Cox Moses thinks that one should incline neither to the right nor to the left not to any part of earthly Edom at all, but to pass by along the middle road, which he most properly calls the royal road (Num. 20.17), for since God is the first and sole King of the universe, the road leading to him, being a King’s road, is also rightly called royal. This road you must hold to be philosophy … the philosophy that the ancient band of devotees achieved with great effort, turning aside from the bland charms of pleasures, elegantly and rigorously engaged in the study of the good. This royal road then, which we have said to be true and authentic philosophy, is called by the Law the utterance and word of God. For it is written, ‘You shall not turn away from the word which I command you this day to the right or the left’ (Deut. 28.14). (De posteritate Caini 101-2)1

1. Introduction At the same time Jesus was learning his trade as a carpenter and then proclaiming the advent of his Father’s rule in Palestine, in Alexandria, Egypt, Greek-speaking Jewish biblical scholarship, infused with a revitalized Platonism, reached its apex in the writings of Philo Judaeus. While such Greco-Roman philosophical inquiry into the Scriptures did not take hold in rabbinic Judaism, it did lay the foundation for at least 1,400 years of Christian exegesis. Philo’s library and method were bequeathed not to the rabbis but to the likes of Clement and Origen of Alexandria as well second and third century ‘Gnostics’. Philo was a member of a wealthy and influential family in Alexandria, one which held Roman citizenship (perhaps granted by Julius Caesar).2 Philo’s 1. Translations of Philo are from David Winston, Philo of Alexandria: The Contemplative Life, The Giants, and Selections (Classics of Western Spirituality; Mahwah, NJ: Paulist, 1981) unless otherwise noted. 2. For biographical and introductory detail to Philo of Alexandria I have relied upon Kenneth Schenck, A Brief Guide to Philo (Knoxville: Westminster John Knox, 2005) and Gregory Sterling, ‘The Philo of Alexandria Commentary Series General Introduction’,

168

This World and the World to Come

brother, Alexander, a high-level city administrator, is said to have donated a considerable sum to the building of Herod’s temple. Philo’s nephew, Tiberius Julius Alexander, an apostate from Judaism, served as procurator of Judea (46–48 ce) and prefect in Egypt (66–70). As for Philo, while he appears to have lived a more retiring life devoted to philosophy, he did have some political responsibility, evidenced in his leading an embassy to the Emperor Gaius to plead the cause of his fellow Jews after they were victims of a pogrom in Alexandria in 38 ce. Philo’s wealth and familial status appear to have afforded him time and resources for tremendous intellectual inquiry, which suited well his contemplative disposition. He wrote as many as 70 treatises in Greek, of which about 50 remain extant (some only in fragments, others in a sixthcentury Armenian translation).3 Since many of his writings appear to serve pedagogical purposes or stem from a pedagogical context, some have conjectured that Philo (a beneficiary of an elite Greek education himself) ran a school in Alexandria for studying the Jewish Scriptures in the light of Greek philosophy. We usually divide Philo’s works into five groups: apologetic treatises wherein the Alexandrian defends the cause of his Jewish countrymen; philosophical treatises, wherein he engages in rather standard intellectual argumentation of the period; and, the overwhelming majority, three groups of exegetical writings. One such group consists of fragments of a Question and Answer series on Genesis and Exodus, extant mostly in Armenian though with several Greek fragments; these are a sort of compendia of different approaches (literal and allegorical) to biblical texts and provide a more pedantic approach to exegetical issues. Of all Philo’s writings, these seem most oriented toward classroom instruction. On the opposite end of the spectrum is a group of writings referred to as The Exposition of the Law, wherein Philo apparently attempts a description of Torah that is more generally accessible to Hellenistic readers (whether Jewish or non-Jewish is uncertain). This attempt reflects his interest in an intellectual rapprochement between Jewish and Greek thought. These writings provide a less-technical, more engaging description of the creation of the world, biographies of key in Philo of Alexandria: On the Creation of the Cosmos according to Moses – Introduction, Translation and Commentary (ed. David Runia; Philo of Alexandria Commentary Series; Leiden: Brill, 2002; Atlanta, Georgia: SBL, 2005), pp. ix–xiv. 3. The critical edition is Philonis Alexandrini opera quae supersunt (eds L. Cohn, P. Wendland, and S. Reiter; 6 vols; Berlin: George Reimer, 1896–1915; repr. Berlin: De Gruyter, 1962). In addition to Winston’s anthology (see n. 1), there are three other options for English translations of Philo’s work. Two complete translations exist: F. H. Colson, G. H. Whitaker, and R. Marcus (trans.; 12 vols; LCL; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1929–62. Volumes 1–10, with two supplements, also has the Greek text alongside the English); and C. D. Yonge’s The Works of Philo Judaeus, the Contemporary of Josephus (4 vols; London: Henry G. Bohn, 1854–5). The most recent translations of Philo’s work come from aforementioned Philo of Alexandria Commentary Series (see n. 2).



Travelling The Royal Road

169

biblical figures (Abraham, Joseph, and Moses – if De vita Mosis is to be included in the Exposition instead of being a stand-alone work), and a survey of the laws, using the ten commandments as a rubric for grouping and explanation. Finally, Philo’s most complex group of writings is the Allegorical Commentary, a series of treatises whereby the Alexandrian allegorically interprets Gen. 2.1–41.24 via a Hellenistic philosophical lens. These treatises, which generally eschew a literal reading of the text, often appear at first reading to meander from passage to passage, with Philo appealing to secondary biblical citations (from elsewhere in the Torah as well as the prophets (e.g., Jeremiah) and the writings (e.g., Psalms)). However, closer reading suggests that while Philo is not opposed to a good tangent, there is a general thematic unity in each treatise and an overall consistency of thought and purpose throughout the Allegorical Commentary. 2. Philo’s soteriology: caveats and focus Given the volume of Philo’s writing and the extent of the exegetical exigencies therein, any inquiry into his thought seems to require almost as many caveats as conclusions. We should preface our inquiry into his soteriology with the following three comments. First, identifying and expounding upon Philo’s understanding of salvation requires us to do something that is inherently difficult, namely to systematize what is not systematic. Philo’s writings defy systematization because the foremost concern for this student of Moses was exegesis of the Scripture, and most of his dogma is expressed as a byproduct of that exegetical process. This, coupled with the fact that he was so prolific (which is nothing to lament), means that we have to carefully build our own systems of his thought, paying attention to the scope of his writings and acknowledging that (especially in the space allotted here) ours is a provisional endeavour. The size of Philo’s literary corpus and the richness of his exegesis also necessitates a constraint on what we include in our discussion. We will focus here on what Philo writes about the journey of the soul heavenward since this is demonstrably his primary concern. To be sure, Philo’s ethnic identity and his commitment to his ancestral religion and to its Scriptures means that he has a high view of the Jewish people and considers them blessed when they obey the laws regardless of how they understand them.4 Furthermore, he does hold eschatological views of a sort (mostly along the lines of the future ascendency of the nation of Israel and either the rewards that come to those nations who acknowledge this ascendency or the punishments to those that do not acknowledge it and/or have hindered it).5 But, if the amount of 4. See Samuel Sandmel, Philo of Alexandria: An Introduction (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1979), pp. 106–10. 5. See, e.g., Vit. Mos. 2.43-44 and Praem. Poen. 165-72, as well as the discussion of Philo’s eschatology in Thomas H. Tobin, ‘Philo and the Sybil: Interpreting Philo’s Eschatology’, SPhilo Annual 9 (1997), pp. 84–103.

170

This World and the World to Come

attention he pays to a topic is any indicator, these concerns are ancillary to his interest in the well-being of the human soul. Finally, it is worth asking whether ‘soteriology’ or ‘salvation’ really are appropriate terms to use when discussing Philo’s understanding of the soul. After all, Philo’s debt to Hellenistic philosophy is immense and it explicitly shapes his thinking about the soul.6 Where ‘salvation’ implies some sort of rescuing from the world, Hellenistic philosophers generally do not view the world as ‘damaged’ (like early Christians and apocalyptically oriented Jews) or ‘hostile’ (like ‘Gnostics’ purportedly did).7 For the philosophers, the soul’s achieving its fulfilment occurs more as a natural process than as something that happens in spite of or against nature. At the least, even though Philo, as a good exegete, reflects upon and uses the soteriological language of the Bible, we must keep in mind the philosophical proclivity of his interpretations. 3. The ascent of the soul As we have said, the heart of Philo’s efforts is exegesis and the type of exegesis Philo advocates and best exemplifies is allegory (Greek: a0llhgori/a). The Alexandrian does not completely eschew those who seek a literal interpretation (‘for perhaps the truth is with them’); rather, he exhorts them ‘to press on to allegorical interpretations and to recognize that the letter is to the oracle but as the shadow to the substance and that the higher values therein revealed are what really and truly exist’ (Conf. Ling. 190). But Philo’s allegorical reading is of a particular type, having a particular focus; he reads Scripture, and most especially Moses’ Torah, as an allegory of the soul. That is, he attempts ‘to interpret the events of the external world described in the biblical text in terms of the conflicts within the human soul in its striving toward virtue and wisdom or in its corruption by vice’.8 Hence, Philo reads the Adam and Eve narrative where Adam is the earthly mind, his wife Eve is sense perception, the beasts of the garden are the passions and the serpent is pleasure.9 Or again, the life of Abraham is internalized so that ‘the migrations as set forth by the literal text of the Scriptures are made by a man of wisdom, but according to the laws of allegory by a virtue-loving soul in its search for the true God’ (Abr. 68). Abraham’s migration from Haran to Canaan thus demonstrates God’s wish to purify the soul when ‘he gives it an impulse towards complete salvation, namely a change of abode, so as

6. For a thorough discussion of Philo’s philosophical status, see the complete 1993 issue of the Studia Philonica Annual (vol. 5), which was given over to this topic. 7. Hellenistic philosophers do view the material world as inferior, but this is not the same. See my discussion of salvation in these contexts in Ronald Cox, By the Same Word: Creation and Salvation in Hellenistic Judaism and Early Christianity (BZNW, 145; Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 2007). 8. Thomas Tobin, The Creation of Man: Philo and the History of Interpretation (CBQMS, 14; Washington, DC; Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1983), p. 146.



Travelling The Royal Road

171

to quit the three regions of the body, sense perception and uttered speech’ (Migr. Abr. 2, Yonge (altered)). While Philo’s allegorical method is complex and its yield robust, we focus here on two important aspects relevant to his soteriology. First, we must take into account the nature of the subject which underlies so much of his commentary, namely the soul,10 and second, the means by which the soul achieves its salvation, namely the process of ‘becoming like God’. A succinct description of the soul may be found in De gigantibus, Philo’s allegorical commentary on Genesis 6.1-4a that interprets the narrative about heavenly beings who found the human daughters attractive and took them for wives. For Philo, these heavenly beings are souls, known to his co-religionists as ‘angels’ but to Greek philosophers as daemons (daimones), and they reside naturally in the air.11 Now some of the souls have descended into bodies, others have never deigned to associate with any of the parts of earth. Since the latter are consecrated and devoted to the service of the Father, they customarily serve their Creator as ministers and helpers in his care for mortal man. The former, however, descending into the body as though into a stream, have sometimes been caught up in the violent rush of its raging waters and swallowed up; at other times, able to withstand the rapids, they have initially emerged at the surface and then soared back up to the place whence they had set out. (Gig. 12-13)

There are, then, two states in which the soul may exist, one heavenly and unfettered by the material world, and the other earthly and encumbered by corporeality. Those souls in the former state exist continuously as servants and assistants to God (akin to more familiar conceptions of angels). How those in the latter state came to be embodied is not spelled out.12 What is clear is that these souls have some capacity to remedy their situation, if they so choose. Philo styles this choice as the practice of dying to self in the 9. Tobin, The Creation of Man, p. 146: ‘The story of the fall in Genesis 3 is interpreted as a struggle between mind (man) and pleasure (the serpent) in which sense perception (woman) is the medium through which pleasure is able to corrupt the mind’ (De opificio mundi 165-66). 10. Philo offers several definitions of the soul (see e.g., Op. Mund. 117 and Leg. All. 3.115). In this essay, we will mean by ‘soul’ the latter sense mentioned in Rer. Div. Her. 55 (‘The term soul is used in two senses, both for the soul as a whole and for its ruling part, which strictly speaking is the soul’s soul’), namely the rational soul. 11. Somn. 1.135: ‘The air is the abode of incorporeal souls, since it seemed good to their Maker to fill all parts of the universe with living beings. He set land-animals on the earth, aquatic creatures in the seas and rivers, and in heaven the stars, each of which is said to be not a living creature only but mind of the purest kind through and through; and therefore in air also, the remaining section of the universe, living creatures [i.e., invisible souls] exist’ (Colson). See also Winston, Philo of Alexandria, p. 323: ‘What Greek philosophers call daemons, says Philo, Moses is accustomed to call “Angels”. Angels and daemons are, for Philo, merely terms for souls performing certain roles’. 12. See Rer. Div. Her. 240 where Philo speculates that the souls ended up in this state as a result of grievous ill-luck (barudaimoni/a).

172

This World and the World to Come

body (to\n meta\ swma&twn a0poqnh|&skein bi/on), and calls those who succeed ‘genuine philosophers’. Those who do not try, or do not succeed, ‘have no regard for wisdom’ and ‘have surrendered themselves to unstable and chance concerns, none of which relate to our noblest part, the soul or mind, but all are related to that corpse which was our birth-fellow, the body, or to objects even more lifeless than it – glory, wealth, offices, and honours, and whatever else is moulded or painted through the deceit of false opinion by those who have never had a vision of the truly beautiful’ (Gig. 15). Philo’s view of salvation, in nuce, is the soul’s death to its material body and ascent back to its airy origins.13 Indeed, this is not death but the acquisition of true life and the overcoming of spiritual death. The death of the soul, not of the body, is what the Alexandrian thinks Moses had in mind when he warned Adam in paradise, ‘In the day you eat from [the tree of knowledge], you shall die the death (qana&tw| a0poqanei=sqe)’ (LXX Gen. 2.17). When Moses says this, he means it in the sense of the penalty death, not that which comes by nature. Natural death is that in which soul is separated from body, the penalty death comes to be when the soul dies to the life of virtue, and is alive only to that of wickedness (o3tan h9 yuxh\ to\n a0reth=j bi/on qnh|, to\n de\ kaki/aj zh=| mo&non). Heraclitus did well in following Moses’ teaching on this point; for he says, ‘We live their death, and are dead to their life.’ He means that now, when we are living, the soul is dead and is entombed in the body as in a sepulcher, but should we die, the soul lives its proper life, released from the pernicious corpse to which it was bound, the body. (Leg. All. 1.107-8)

If the death of the soul is acquiescence to wickedness, then its life is the acquisition of virtue, as Philo has Joseph say: ‘no good man ever dies, but such will live for ever and ever, without growing old, in an immortal nature which is no longer bound up in the necessities of the body’ (Jos. 264, Yonge). The first human, before he took from the tree, lived the epitome of the desired life. While in paradise, the first man surely passed the time in undiluted well-being (eu0daimoni/a). He was closely related and akin to the Director, because the divine spirit had flowed into him in ample measure, and so all his words and actions were undertaken in order to please the Father and King, in whose footsteps he followed along the highways that the virtues mark out, because only those souls are permitted to approach him who consider the goal of their existence to be assimilation to the God who brought them forth. (Op. Mund. 144, Runia)

When he says the goal of human existence is the assimilation, or likeness, to God (Greek: h9 pro\j qeo\ne0comoi/wsij), Philo is alluding to a well established philosophical concept, the primary source for which was Plato (‘a man should make all haste to escape from earth to heaven; and escape means becoming as like God [o9moi/wsij qew|~|] as possible and a man becomes like 13.

For more about the soul’s origins, see our discussion of the divine Logos below.



Travelling The Royal Road

173

God when he becomes just and pure, with understanding’, Theaet. 176b).14 This assimilation is a concept the Alexandrian speaks of frequently (e.g., Op. Mund. 144; Dec. 63; Virt. 8, 168; cf. Leg. All. 2.4) and, similar to Plato’s understanding, it consistently has to do with the attainment of virtue. That is to say, assimilation is not primarily an ontological process (the deification of which Patristic writers speak) but an imitative one.15 The soul adopts the ways of God (‘follows along the highways that the virtues set out’) to attain well-being (eu0daimoni/a, often translated ‘happiness’).16 The attainment of this virtue is for Philo a process deeply intertwined with allegorical exegesis of the Scriptures since in the Scriptures’ hidden meanings ‘the rational soul begins especially to contemplate the things akin to itself and, beholding the extraordinary beauties of the concepts through the polished glass of the words, unfolds and reveals the symbols, and brings forth the thoughts bared into the light for those who are able by a slight jog to their memory to view the invisible through the visible’.17 For Philo, the Torah facilitates the virtuous life only secondarily through the prescriptions of the laws (even when understood allegorically). Rather, Torah’s particular laws are only copies (ei0ko/nej), the models (a0rxe/tupoi) for which are the Patriarchs (Abraham, Isaac and Jacob). These are such men as lived nobly and blamelessly, whose virtues stand durably recorded in the most Holy Scriptures, not only with the object of praising them, but also for the sake of exhorting their readers and leading them to a like zeal; for these men have been animate and rational laws (e1myuxoi kai\ logikoi\ no/moi) … the laws [i.e., law code] are nothing more than memorials of the life of the ancients, detailing in antiquarian style the words and deeds they adopted. For they were not pupils or disciples of others, nor were they instructed by tutors what to say or do. They were self-taught and were laws unto themselves, and clinging fondly to conformity with nature, and assuming nature itself to be, as indeed it is, the most venerable of statutes, their whole life was well ordered. They never committed any blameworthy action voluntarily, and with regard to their chance errors they loudly implored God and propitiated him with prayers and supplications so as to secure participation in a perfect life successful in both spheres of action, both the premeditated and the involuntary. (Abr. 3-6)

Scripture in short reveals the path of virtue foremost by setting forth the examples of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, who ‘never committed any blameworthy action voluntarily’ even though they had no access to the as yet unwritten laws of Torah. They attained such righteousness by conforming to natural law through their own volition and indeed were themselves living 14. Translation: M. Levett and M. Burnyeat, Plato: Complete Works (ed. J. Cooper; Indianapolis: Hackett, 1997). Philo quotes this passage in Fug. 63. See Runia, On the Creation of the World, p. 343. 15. See W. E. Helleman, ‘Philo of Alexandria on Deification and Assimilation to God’, SPhilo Annual 2 (1990), pp. 51–71 (70–1): it is ‘a process which involves imitation, rather than participation or sharing in the divine nature as such’. 16. See also Abr. 87: ‘for those who seek and desire to find God, love that solitude which is dear to him, laboring for this as their dearest and primary object, to become like his blessed and happy nature’ (Yonge). 17. Contempl. 78. Cf. Plato’s notion that learning is recollection in Meno 81.

174

This World and the World to Come

laws. Conformity to Nature (fu/sij, a Stoic concept Philo appropriates and adjusts) ultimately is following God, since ‘nature has a normative value only insofar as it is the expression of the divine will (and it is thereby that nature is endowed)’.18 Individually, the patriarchs symbolize the different qualities necessary for acquiring virtue: Abraham through being taught, Isaac through intuition, and Jacob through practice. (Philo adds that while one quality predominates in each, each possesses all three qualities).19 These qualities are divine gifts, or graces, given to humanity to move from the bodily/material existence to a heavenly/rational one.20 Nonetheless, the path to virtue is complex and difficult when it comes to learning and practice, as represented by the journeys undertaken by both Abraham (from Ur to Haran and then from Haran to Shechem, summarized in Rer. Div. Her. 98) and Jacob (from Esau to Laban, then from Laban to Isaac; see Migr. Abr. 26-30). These two symbolize what Philo calls o9 proko/ptwn21 who, weaning himself away from physical things with great effort, ‘takes flight from the sense-perceptible realm, leaving behind not only the passions but external goods too … under the guidance of right reason’.22 But Isaac does not need to make the journey since his efforts at virtue are selftaught and spontaneous; ‘he has his knowledge from himself and because he belongs to “the new race, superior to reason and truly divine”’ (Fug. 168).23 Isaac represents ‘the privileged few who are so naturally endowed that they achieve wisdom virtually without effort’.24 18. Katell Berthelot, L’‘humanité de l’autre homme’ dans la pensée jiuve ancienne (JSJSup, 87; Leiden: Brill, 2004), p. 119, quoted by Carlos Lévy, ‘Philo’s Ethics’, in The Cambridge Companion to Philo (ed. Adam Kamesar; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), pp. 146–71 (147). See also John Dillon, Middle Platonists: 80 B.C. to A.D. 220 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, rev. edn, 1996), p. 146, where he writes: since for Philo ‘“Nature” is the logos of God in action in the world, “living in conformity with Nature” is simply “following God”’. 19. De Abrahamo 52-53. 20. De Abrahamo 54: ‘Another name is given to them by men, who call them Graces (xa/ritej), also three in number; either because these values are a gift of God’s grace to our kind for perfecting its life, or because they have given themselves to the reasonable soul as a perfect and most excellent gift’ (Colson). 21. That is, ‘the one who is progressing morally and intellectually’. See LSJ ‘proko&ptw’ II.3. 22. David Winston, ‘Philo’s Ethical Theory’, ANRW 21.1 (1984), pp. 372–416 (410); on the effort needed, see Winston, ‘Philo’s Ethical Theory’, p. 414. See also Unchangeable, pp. 150–3. 23. See Carlos Lévy, ‘Philo’s Ethics’, p. 165, who adds about Philo’s interpretation of this triad: ‘All of this enables Philo to associate biblical exegesis with the recommendation of Plato in Theaetetus 176a-b: one should escape out of the world in order to become similar to God as far as that is possible.’ 24. Winston, ‘Philo’s Ethical Theory’, p. 410. See also his ‘Sage and Super-sage in Philo of Alexandria’, in The Ancestral Philosophy: Hellenistic Philosophy in Second Temple Judaism (ed. G. Sterling; BJS, 331; Studia Philonica Monographs, 4; Providence: Brown University, 2001), pp. 171–80: ‘Philo’s person of perfection is in need of no external authority but always acts spontaneously and unbidden out of his own inner resources’ (p. 172). See Ebr. 94; Mut. Nom. 88.



Travelling The Royal Road

175

As discussed earlier, Philo’s understanding of salvation is the soul’s return to its heavenly origins, and here we see that the path to virtue is the ethical embodiment of that return. The triad of Abraham, Jacob and Isaac help us to understand further that for Philo such transcendence is not a ‘one size fits all’ accomplishment. According to On the Sacrifices of Cain and Abel (Sacr.), Philo perceives in Genesis’ different descriptions of the deaths of the patriarchs a gradation of rewards in accordance with the degree to which one has lived virtuously. When Genesis tells us that upon their deaths, Abraham and Jacob were added to the people of God (Gen. 25.8; 49.33 LXX), we should understand it to refer to those souls that have ‘inherited incorruption and have become equal to the angels’, where angels are ‘bodiless and blessed souls’ that are ‘the host of God’ (Sacr. 5). As lofty as their achievement is, the variance in Genesis’ description of Isaac’s fate suggests to Philo the possibility of a higher reward. Genesis 35.29 says that when he breathed his last Isaac was added not to ‘his people’ (o9 lao\j au0tou=), like his father and grandfather, but to ‘his race’ (or ‘his genus’, o9 ge/noj au0tou=). Philo explains: For genus is one, that which is above all, but ‘people’ is a name for many. Those who have advanced to perfection as pupils under a teacher have their place among many others; for those who learn by hearing and instruction are no small number, and these he calls a people. But those who have dispensed with the instruction of men and have become apt pupils of God receive the free unlabored knowledge and are translated into the genus of the imperishable and fully perfect. (Sacr. 7, Colson)

Isaac’s higher ascent comes from his being essentially self-reliant and as such represents a soul that more closely approximates the divine nature in its freedom and innate rationality. ‘For the nature of the self-taught (to\ au0tomaqe\j ge/noj) is new and higher than our reasoning, and in very deed Divine, arising by no human will or purpose but by a God-inspired ecstasy’ (Fug. 168). In other words, Philo appears to claim here that the more natural one’s reasoning (not being dependent on external prompts) and the less given over to the vicissitudes of the body, the closer one draws near God. This drawing near to God is certainly possible for some still-embodied souls. When the mind is possessed by divine love, when it exerts itself to reach the innermost shrine, when it moves forward with all effort and zeal, under the impact of the divine inspiration it forgets everything else, forgets itself, and retains memory and attachment for him alone whose attendant servant it is, to whom it dedicates the incense offering of hallowed and intelligible virtues. But when the inspiration is stilled and the intense longing subsides, it races back from the divine and becomes man and encounters the human interests that lay in wait for it in the outer court to snatch it away should it but venture forth from within. (Somn. 2.232)

So if such a state is reachable when one is still within reach of the body’s gravitational pull, how much more so for the soul that has finally been ‘released from the pernicious corpse to which it was bound’. The mystical state provides a foretaste of the beatitude that awaits the truly virtuous

176

This World and the World to Come

soul.25 The relationship between the two (mystical encounter in this life and the sustained experience of the divine post-mortem) is best expressed in Philo’s view of Moses, who represents the Wise Man par excellence. Where Abraham and Jacob are, at death, added to their people, and Isaac is added to his genus, ‘[s]ome there are whom God has advanced even higher, and has rendered them capable of soaring above every species and genus, and set them down beside himself. Such is Moses to whom he says, “As for you, stand here with me”’ (Deut. 5.31) (Sacr. 8). And it is this close relationship to God that results in the blurring of Moses’ life and death. ‘And therefore it is said that no one knows his grave (Deut. 34:6), for who would be capable of perceiving the migration of a perfect soul to the Existent? Not even the soul undergoing it, in my opinion, knows of its improvement, since at that juncture it is God-possessed’ (Sacr. 10). To this point, we have examined Philo’s understanding of salvation by focusing on the human predicament and the human role in its solution, all through the lens of Philo’s allegorical biblical exegesis, which not only provides the narrative for the soul’s ascent but also serves as a catalyst for participation therein. We have seen that many (though not all) souls, though of heavenly origin, become embodied. While some of these souls give into the appetites and passions of the body and are pulled under and drown beneath the waves of material reality, others, buoyed by philosophical living, begin the process of returning to their origins. The path they take (‘the highways that the virtues mark out’) involves an arduous and long ascent, requiring self-denial, learning, and discipline and culminating in a state of independence from the physical realm. It would thus appear no great leap to say that Philo is a proponent of free will, at least for those not enslaved to the body. As Samuel Sandmel writes, ‘It is Philo’s assumption that the higher mind [rational soul] of the gifted man is capable of countering the bodily demands; it is capable of choice, being able to elect to counter the bodily demands or to succumb to them. The poorer the quality of the man’s mind, the less apt it is to elect to counter the demands; the better the quality, the more apt it is to do so’.26 The degree to which the soul counters the demands of the body the higher it ascends, in this life to the point of achieving fleeting yet dazzling mystical experience of God and in the next life, an immortal and wholly unencumbered divine experience. 4. The divine Logos as anagogue27 Yet salvation is not simply a human work for Philo; it is a result of God’s providence that salvation, or the fulfilment of the human soul, is possible 25. On Philo’s mysticism, see David Winston, Philo of Alexandria, pp. 21–35; ‘Was Philo a Mystic?’, pp. 151–70 in idem, The Ancestral Philosophy. 26. Sandmel, Philo of Alexandria, p. 100. 27. Cf. a0na/gw, ‘lead up from a lower place to a higher place’ (LSJ). See the discussion of Sacr. 8 below.



Travelling The Royal Road

177

and occurs. We saw already hints of this, for example, when Philo refers to the means to virtue of learning, nature and practice, symbolized by the patriarchal triad, as ‘graces’ or divine gifts (Abr. 54, n. 20 above). The whole premise of a journey, via virtue, towards divine likeness rests upon the human ability to choose mind over body; yet the mind’s freedom to do this is the most basic gift of God to humanity and ‘in this way especially is made like him’.28 In fact, for Philo, the mind (the rational soul) is synonymous with humanity (‘the mind which we possess … in the true and full sense is the human [a!nqrwpoj]’, Rer. Div. Her. 231) and as such is not just like God in capacity but is made according to his image, as Moses said in LXX Gen. 1.26: ‘and God made the human according to the image of God (kai\ e0poi/hsen o9 qeo\j to\n a!nqrwpon kat' ei0ko&na qeou=)’. And it is in this phrase that we come to the heart of Philo’s understanding of the divine role in human salvation. To appreciate the importance of this phrase, we must first step back to address an underlying paradox in the human goal discussed above, namely, becoming like God. Philo waxes extensively and often poetically about the ascent of the soul toward God made possible by the philosophical life, yet the ultimate objective of this ascent, the apprehension of the Deity himself, is not, strictly speaking, possible. The quest for God, best of all existing things, the Incomparable, the Cause of all, gladdens us the moment we embark on our search, and is never without issue, since by reason of his gracious nature he advances to meet us with his virgin graces, and shows himself to those who long to see him, not as he is, for this is impossible, since even Moses ‘turned away his face, for he was afraid to look upon God’ (Exod. 3.6) but so far as it is allowable that created nature should approach the inconceivable Power. (Fug. 141, my emphasis)

To be sure, it is possible to know that God is (and for Philo this in itself is a laudable feat). ‘For it suffices for man’s reasoning to advance as far as to learn that the Cause of the universe is and subsists.’ However, ‘to be eager to apply oneself further, so as to inquire about essence or quality in God is folly primeval’ (Poster. C. 167-8; cf. Praem. Poen. 39). It is folly because with respect to his essence or quality, the Cause of the universe is ‘the unnamable, unutterable, and inconceivable-by-any-means God’ (o9 a0katono&mastoj kai\ a!rrhtoj kai\ kata\ pa&saj i0de/aj a0kata&lhptoj qeo&j, Somn. 1.67). When he himself endeavours to speak of God, Philo relies more on what we cannot 28. Deus Imm. 136. The context of this quote is worth providing in greater detail: ‘For it is mind alone, which the Father who begat it judged worthy of freedom, and loosening the fetters of necessity, suffered it to range as it listed, and of that free will which is His most peculiar possession and most worthy of His majesty gave it such a portion as it was capable of receiving. … the soul of man alone has received from God the faculty of voluntary movement, and in this way especially is made like to Him, and thus being liberated, as far as might be from that hard and ruthless mistress, necessity, may justly be charged with guilt, in that it does not honor its Liberator. And therefore it will rightly pay the inexorable penalty which is meted to ungrateful freedmen’ (Colson).

178

This World and the World to Come

say about him than what we can and even then recoils at saying too much.29 The most that Philo will assert positively is that God is and so one of his preferred names for the Deity is to\ o!n, ‘that which is’ or ‘the Existent’. But if God is shrouded in ineffable mystery, what hope has humanity to draw near to him let alone to know that he is? Furthermore, the tension between God’s transcendence and the material world is not just about human knowledge or achievement; it is about the integrity of God’s being: how could that which is supremely beyond all things be their creator (without diminishing divine transcendence)? Philo addresses this tension by finding an intermediary between God and the material world to serve as a buffer to preserve divine transcendence even as it facilitates divine influence.30 The intermediary is variously described as God’s Wisdom (see n. 30) or God’s powers (duna&meij, often reduced to two, God’s goodness and sovereignty, responsible respectively for creating and ruling the universe and symbolized as the Cherubim on sentry outside Eden in Cher. 27-28 or above the ark of the covenant in Rer. Div. Her. 166).31 However the most frequent guise the intermediary takes in Philo’s writings is the divine Logos,32 who sits above 29. Though he says elsewhere that God is without quality (a!poioj) and without body (a0sw&matoj), he asks in Leg. All. 3.206: ‘Who is capable of asserting of the Primal Cause that it is corporeal or incorporeal, or that it possesses quality or is qualityless, or in general who could make a firm statement concerning his essence or quality or state or movement? He alone will make dogmatic assertions regarding himself since he alone has unerringly precise knowledge of his own nature’. On Philo’s use of Negative Theology (the via Negativa) see Winston, Philo of Alexandria, pp. 22–3, and Dillon, Middle Platonists, pp. 155–6, as well as Cox, By the Same Word, pp. 94–6. 30. See Rer. Div. Her. 205, which says that God places the intermediary ‘to stand between and separate the creature from the Creator [as] both suppliant of every anxietyridden mortality before the immortal, and ambassador of the ruler to the subject … neither unbegotten as God, nor begotten as you, but midway between the two extremes, serving as a pledge for both: to the Creator as assurance that the creatures should never completely shake off the reins and rebel, choosing disorder rather than order; to the creature warranting his hopefulness that the gracious God will never disregard his own work’. In keeping with his Hellenistic Judaism, Philo’s move has both biblical and philosophical precedent. A biblical antecedent to Philo’s intermediary doctrine is Lady Wisdom in Proverbs, about which there is a robust speculative tradition that provides her a larger role in creation over time (see Sirach 24 as well as Wisdom 6–7; Philo speaks specifically of Wisdom in this intermediary role only a few times in his work, e.g., Det. Pot. Ins. 54; Ebr. 31; Fug. 109). With regards to philosophy, it is perhaps this three part structure (Transcendent Deity-Intermediary-Material World) that most demonstrates Philo’s involvement with Middle Platonism (on which, see Tobin, Creation of Man, pp. 11–19, as well as more generally Dillon, Middle Platonists). 31. Philo’s intermediary realm is actually quite crowded. See Conf. Ling. 171-80, esp. 171: ‘God is one, but he has around Him numberless Powers … through which the incorporeal and intelligible was framed, the archetype of this phenomenal world, that being a system of invisible forms, as this is of visible material bodies.’ 32. The term o( lo&goj, transliterated here as the Logos, is both a very familiar concept and one that is difficult to define. It finds several uses in Philo’s and other Hellenistic writings, the most common translations for which are ‘Word’ (cf. the English translations of Jn 1.1) or ‘Reason’ (cf. the Loeb Classical translation of Diogenes Laertius, 7.134, which discusses



Travelling The Royal Road

179

and subsumes into itself the other powers. God ‘employ[s] as minister of his gifts the Logos (o9 lo/goj) through which also he created the world’ (Deus Imm. 57) since the Logos is that which is most intimately associated with God. The Logos is ‘God’s image’ (Leg. All. 3.96), ‘the most senior of all things intelligible, set nearest, with no interval between, to the alone truly Existent’ (Fug. 97), and is even ‘the second god’ (Quaest. in Gen. 2.62). At the same time, the Logos is abundantly immanent in the world, being the ‘bond’ that holds the universe together (‘extending himself from the centre to its furthest bonds and from its extremities to the centre again, runs nature’s unvanquished course joining and binding fast all its parts’, Plant. 9). It is no surprise then that the Logos, so intimately associated with things divine and mundane, is the primary catalyst for human salvation. Recall above the depiction of Moses in Sacr. 8, where he achieves the highest possible ascent, higher than the souls symbolized as Abraham, Jacob and even Isaac. Unlike these others, Moses’ departure is ‘by the Word’ (Deut. 34.5), as Philo explains: ‘But “by the Word” of the Primal Cause he is translated, that “Word” through which also the whole universe was fashioned. Thus you may learn that God regards the Wise Man of equal honour as the universe, for it is through the same Logos, by which he created the universe, that he draws the perfect man from earthly affairs to himself’. The Logos is best suited for this assistance since, as it has a distinctive relationship with God, it also has a distinctive relationship with humanity, or at least the rational part of humanity. ‘Every human being, as far as his mind is concerned, is akin to the divine Logos and has come into being as a casting or fragment or effulgence of the blessed nature, but in the structure of his body he is related to the entire cosmos.’33 Philo finds exegetical basis for this kinship in Gen. 1.27, where Moses says that God made the human being ‘according to his image’. In Leg. All. 3.96, Philo takes ‘image’ (h9 ei0kw&n) to be God’s Logos and explains: For just as God is the pattern of the Image … so does the Image become the pattern of others, as Moses made clear at the beginning of the Law Code by saying, ‘And God made man after the Image of God’ (Gen. 1.27); thus the Image had been modelled after God, but man after the Image, which had acquired the force of a pattern.

Again, recalling that Philo here has in view not the flesh-and-blood human being but the rational soul, he would have us see the kinship as one where the human mind (‘the reasoning power within us’, h3 e0n h9mi=n tou= logismou=) functions in a manner similar to God’s image (‘the divine Logos above us’, h9 u9pe\r h9ma~j tou= qei/ou lo&gou).34 the Stoic notion of divine Reason). Philo (like the Gospel of John) has in mind probably both biblical use (Genesis 1 and the creation by divine speech act) and the philosophical use (the Stoics and Middle Platonists used the term to describe the immanence of the divine presence). For a detailed discussion of Philo’s logos doctrine see Cox, By the Same Word, pp. 96–138. 33. Op. Mund. 146 (Runia). 34. Rer. Div. Her. 234.

180

This World and the World to Come

We may now draw a connection between the role of the soul in making the divine ascent with God’s role in facilitating that ascent. For one, having seen that the Logos and the soul are intimately associated, we are in a position to understand the airy origins of the soul alluded to in De gigantibus, the heights from which it has fallen, and the reason the soul (at least the philosophically inclined soul) yearns to return. Furthermore, speaking of the soul’s practice of philosophy, the practical and contemplative pursuit of virtue that is in both ways powered by right reason, we may recognize that such intellectual activity is not simply the soul’s responsibility but is only possible because the soul has received the ability from divine reason itself, the Logos. With regard to the heights to which the soul may aspire, we see that the Logos is again of great help since it is so closely related to God and as such represents an ideal and accessible goal for the soul, especially considering that Deity’s transcendent nature. Since the divine Logos is ‘an image of God, the most senior of all things intelligible, set nearest, with no interval between, to the alone truly Existent’, Philo urges ‘the one who is capable of running swiftly … to direct all his powers without pausing for breath toward the supreme divine Logos, who is the fountain of wisdom, in order that he may draw from its stream and find, in exchange for death, the prize of eternal life’ (Fug. 97).35 5. Conclusion In short, salvation for Philo is the return of the soul to its heavenly home, and the divine Logos, the image of God and source of the soul’s reasoning, serves as both means and goal in the journey. Thus Philo celebrates: Into the happy soul, which holds out the truly holy chalice, its own reason, who is it that pours the sacred measures of true gladness but the Logos, the Cupbearer of God and Toastmaster of the feast, who differs not from the draft he pours, but is himself the undiluted drink, the gaiety, the seasoning, the effusion, the cheer, and to make poetic expression our own, the ambrosian drug of joy and gladness. (Somn. 2.249)

35. As with the different levels achieved by the patriarchs and Moses, the closeness a soul comes to God and his Logos also depends on its philosophical ability. Drawing inspiration from the cities of refuge in Numbers 35 in Fug. 94-105, Philo contends that the cities to which a homicide might flee represent different heights of ascent possible, depending upon the ‘swift-footedness’ of the ascendant soul. The cities are, in descending order, the Logos, the creative power, the ruling power, the gracious power, the legislative power, and the prohibitive power. ‘He, then, that has shown himself free from even unintentional offence – intentional is not to be thought of – having God Himself as his portion, will have his abode in Him alone; while those who have fallen, not of set purpose but against their will, will have the refuges which have been mentioned, so freely and richly provided’ (Fug. 102, Colson).

Chapter 11

‘Saved by Wisdom’ (Wis. 9.18): Soteriology in the Wisdom of Solomon Daniel J. Harrington, S.J. 1. Introduction This essay examines the Wisdom of Solomon from the perspective of soteriology. That is, it explores each of its three major parts with an eye toward what the audience is being saved from, what it is being saved for, and how it may be saved. In each part the process of salvation – the initial state, the new state, and how the transition happens – is somewhat different. Likewise, the meaning of what the audience is being saved from ranges from ‘ungodly’ or unrighteous behaviour, to ignorance, and to idolatry. Thus I am using the word ‘soteriology’ in its most basic sense as the study of the process of healing or making whole and well those who need to move from one state or status to another. In the Greek manuscript tradition this work is known as the ‘Wisdom of Solomon’, whereas in the Latin manuscript tradition it is called the ‘Book of Wisdom’.1 It is more an exhortation to pursue wisdom than a collection of 1. General treatments: Richard J. Clifford, The Wisdom Literature (IBT; Nashville: Abingdon, 1998), pp. 133–56; David A. deSilva, Introducing the Apocrypha: Message, Context, and Significance (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2002), pp. 127–52; Daniel J. Harrington, Invitation to the Apocrypha (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), pp. 55–77; and Roland E. Murphy, The Tree of Life: An Exploration of Biblical Wisdom Literature (New York: Doubleday, 1990), pp. 83–96. Commentaries: Chrysostom Larcher, Le Livre de la Sagesse ou la Sagesse de Salomon (3 vols; Études bibliques; Paris: Gabalda, 1983– 85); Joseph Reider, The Book of Wisdom (New York: Harper, 1957); David Winston, The Wisdom of Solomon (AB, 43; New York: Doubleday); Michael Kolarcik, ‘The Book of Wisdom’, in New Interpreter’s Bible (ed. Leander E. Keck; Nashville: Abingdon, 1997), pp. 5.435–600; James M. Reese, The Book of Wisdom, Song of Songs (Old Testament Message, 20; Wilmington, DE: Michael Glazier, 1983), pp. 13–202. Modern Scholarship: Lester L. Grabbe, Wisdom of Solomon (GAP; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997); and David Winston, ‘A Century of Research on the Book of Wisdom’, in The Book of Wisdom in Modern Research: Studies on Tradition, Redaction, and Theology (eds Angelo Passaro and Giuseppe Bellia; Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature Yearbook 2005; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2005), pp. 1–18.

182

This World and the World to Come

wise teachings as in the books of Proverbs, Qoheleth, and Sirach. It concerns the benefits of pursuing wisdom (chapters 1–6), the nature of wisdom (7–9), and the role of wisdom and God’s word in the history of ancient Israel’s salvation (10) and especially in the exodus from Egypt (11–19). The implied author is King Solomon, and the implied audience is ‘the rulers of the earth’ (1.1). But the real author cannot be Solomon (who is never named), since he writes in Greek and freely uses Greek philosophical ideas. Likewise, the real audience seems not to have been Gentile kings but rather young Diaspora Jewish men who needed to be reminded about the superiority of the Jewish way of life and exhorted to remain faithful to their tradition. Alexandria, with its large Diaspora Jewish population, is the most likely place of the work’s composition.2 This location is suggested by the use of the Greek language, the author’s knowledge of the Septuagint, the presence of Greek philosophical terms and concepts, and the polemic against Egyptian ‘worship’ of animals. A date of composition in the first century bce is very likely, though any time from the second century bce to the first century ce is possible. Some scholars view it as written against the background of the Roman emperor Caligula’s efforts (in 37–41 ce) to have himself worshipped as a god (see Philo’s Legatio ad Gaium).3 But that is by no means certain. In fact, the work seems to be an earlier stage in the intellectual development within the Alexandrian Jewish community that reached a much higher level of philosophical and theological sophistication in the writings of Philo in the first century ce. The three main parts of the book appear to have been composed by the same author (though not necessarily at the same time) or at least in the same circle. The three parts are now so linked together that it is possible to take chapter 6 as both the end of the first part and the beginning of the second part, and chapter 10 as both the end of the second part and the beginning of the third part.4 The author’s major source was the Greek version of the Jewish Scriptures, most obviously and extensively the book of Exodus in the third part. He was also familiar with some concepts of various Greek philosophies (Platonic, Stoic, and Epicurean), the symbolic and allegorical methods of interpreting ancient texts current in Alexandria, and the rhetorical techniques and figures of speech used by Greek orators. His efforts at joining these various cultural and rhetorical strands make him something of a pioneer in inculturation.5 However, the main point of his book is to assert the superiority of the Jewish way of life and to encourage fidelity to it. And so he uses his philosophical and

2. Leo G. Perdue, The Sword and the Stylus: An Introduction to Wisdom in the Age of Empires (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), pp. 292–355. 3. Winston, The Wisdom of Solomon. 4. Maurice Gilbert, ‘The Literary Structure of the Book of Wisdom’, in The Book of Wisdom in Modern Research (eds H. Passaro and G. Bellia; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2005), pp. 19–32.



‘Saved by Wisdom’ (Wis. 9.18)

183

rhetorical training to criticize the materialism of (Stoic and/or Epicurean?) philosophy and the idolatry of pagan religions. 2. Saved from ungodliness (Wisdom 1.1–6.11) If the three major parts of the book give the impression of three essays being tied together, likewise the different sections within each of the three major parts give a similar impression of set pieces joined to make an argument from various perspectives. Directed to ‘you rulers of the earth’, the initial exhortation (1.1-15) begins with a call to ‘love righteousness’, and ends with a reminder that ‘righteousness is immortal’.6 The rulers are warned against putting God to the test and distrusting him as well as uttering unrighteous things and other kinds of bad speech (grumbling, slander, lies). The penalty for such unrighteous behaviour is death (1.12). The author and his readers surely knew that all humans – the righteous and the unrighteous – will eventually die. Here he is most likely referring to the ‘second’ or ultimate death, that is, annihilation after the first death.7 The ‘rulers’ will be saved from this mode of death only when they come to recognize that the ‘spirit of the Lord’ functions as a kind of worldsoul animating all creation, and that unrighteous persons bring death upon themselves since ‘God did not make death’ (1.13). The reflection on the errors of the ungodly (1.16–2.24) begins and ends with the author’s critical comments. The author accuses them of making a covenant with death (1.16) and of failing to recognize that ‘God created us for incorruption’ (2.23). The centre of the passage (2.1b-20) is presented as the discourse of the ungodly themselves. Their own discourse consists of a statement of their materialistic philosophy, a description of how this philosophy affects their conduct, and an expression of their annoyance at ‘the righteous man’. For them there is no life after death, birth is by mere chance, reason and human life can be explained solely in material terms, and our name will soon be forgotten. The conclusion drawn by them is that life should be spent in seeking material pleasures, and that they have the right and duty to oppress ‘the righteous poor man’ who might challenge them. This latter figure is described in terms reminiscent of the Suffering Servant of Isaiah 53.8 They find his lifestyle a living rebuke to their own way of 5. Alexander A. Di Lella, ‘Conservative and Progressive Theology: Sirach and Wisdom’, CBQ 28 (1966), pp. 139–54. 6. Eric D. Reymond, ‘The Poetry of the Wisdom of Solomon Reconsidered’, VT 52 (2002), pp. 385–99. 7. Michael Kolarcik, The Ambiguity of Death in the Book of Wisdom 1–6: A Study of Literary Structure and Interpretation (AnBib, 127; Rome: Pontificio Istituto Biblico, 1991); and Karina Martin Hogan, ‘The Exegetical Background of the “Ambiguity of Death” in the Wisdom of Solomon’, JSJ 30 (1999), pp. 1–24. 8. George W. E. Nickelsburg, Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal Life in Intertestamental Judaism and Early Christianity (HTS, 56; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2nd edn, 2006).

184

This World and the World to Come

living, and propose to have him tortured and killed to see whether he really is ‘God’s child’ (2.18). How wrong the ungodly are, in the eyes of the author, is revealed in the passage about the contrasting destinies of the righteous and the wicked in 3.1-13a. He affirms that there really is life after death: ‘The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God’ (3.1).9 Whereas the ungodly imagined that the death of the righteous was the end for them, in fact they are at peace and ‘their hope is full of immortality’. Their suffering during life was merely a discipline or test from God, and now they are being rewarded for their fidelity to the righteous way of life. With a possible allusion to Dan. 12.1-3, they are said to look forward to enjoying a kind of astral immortality: ‘In the time of their visitation they will shine forth and will run like sparks through the stubble’ (3.7). In this way the author seems to blend the Greek concept of the immortal soul with Jewish eschatology.10 By contrast, the ungodly, according to 3.10-12, will be punished after death for their disregard of the righteous and their rebellion against God. For the audience, the message here is that there will be life after death and there will be judgement according to one’s deeds. If you wish to enjoy eternal salvation with God, then you must recognize these realities and act accordingly (and not like the materialists). The reflection on childlessness (3.13b–4.15) consists of three contrasts and the biblical example of Enoch.11 The contrasts oppose the conventional human approach to immortality by having children to the author’s understanding of immortality as God’s gift of eternal life to those who walk in wisdom and righteousness. In the first contrast (3.13b-19) the virtuous barren woman and the virtuous eunuch are promised vindication at the divine judgement, whereas the ‘children of adulterers’ (idol worshippers?) will die young and have ‘no consolation on the day of judgment’. According to the second contrast (4.1-5), the immortality of a good name will be granted to the virtuous, while the ‘prolific brood of the ungodly’ will soon be forgotten. In the third contrast (4.6-9), bastard children will bear witness against their parents ‘when God examines them’, whereas the righteous will be ‘at rest’ since their blameless lives qualify them for immortality. The message of the three contrasts is that wise and righteous persons will be rewarded with eternal life with God, and foolish and ungodly persons will be punished according to their deeds. The author explains why according to Gen. 5.24

9. Mareike Verena Blischke, Die Eschatologie in der Sapientia Salomonis (FAT, 2/26; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007); and Shannon Burkes, God, Self, and Death: The Shape of Religious Transformation in the Second Temple Period (JSJSup, 79; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2003). 10. Maurice Gilbert, ‘Sagesse 3,7-9; 5,15-23 et l’apocalyptique’, in Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the Biblical Tradition (ed. Florentino García Martínez; BETL, 168; Leuven: Peeters, 2003), pp. 307–22. 11. Samuel Cheon, ‘Three Characters in the Wisdom of Solomon 3–4’, JSP 21 (2001), pp. 105–13.



‘Saved by Wisdom’ (Wis. 9.18)

185

God ‘took’ Enoch: it was an example of God’s loving care for righteous persons lest they be corrupted by the wicked and foolish persons among whom they live on earth. The contrasting destinies of the righteous and the ungodly (4.16–5.14) revolve around the divine judgement. Then the righteous will condemn the ungodly, and the ungodly will recognize the error of their ways. In a speech that takes back their arrogant claims made in 2.1-20, the ungodly confess that ‘it was we who strayed from the way of truth’ (5.6). What they trusted in has been revealed as without substance – like a shadow, rumour, ship in the sea, bird, arrow, thistledown, light frost, smoke, or short-term guest. But their recognition comes too late. The message of the first major section of the book of Wisdom is neatly summarized in 5.15: ‘But the righteous live forever, and their reward is with the Lord; the Most High will take care of them.’ Then the author promises that God will bestow on the righteous a glorious crown, and describes God’s care for them with the imagery of the divine warrior engaged in a cosmic battle against the forces of evil, even to the point of using those evil forces against themselves.12 The second exhortation to the kings of the earth (6.1-11) rounds off the first part and serves as a bridge to the second part. The rulers are reminded that they will face a rigid scrutiny before God if they have failed to rule wisely and justly. The threat of divine judgement issues in an invitation to ‘learn wisdom and not transgress’, which is the topic of the second part. Summary: in Part 1 the author is concerned to save his readers from the effects of the ungodly or unrighteous way of life. That way of life is described by the ungodly themselves in 2.1-20 as based on materialism and hedonism. The ungodly fail to understand the possibility of eternal life with God as the reward for wise and righteous conduct. While those ungodly ones may be beyond salvation, the intended audience of the book can still decide to walk in the way of wisdom and justice, and so enjoy an eternal reward. But they must make that decision and act upon it before it is too late. It will be too late when at the divine judgement they will recognize their error and find themselves sentenced to the second or ultimate death. 3. Saved from ignorance (Wisdom 6.12–9.18) The invitation to search for wisdom in 6.12-25 is directed to the kings of the earth. The promise is that if they honour wisdom, they may rule forever (6.21), that is, they may attain eternal life with God. Echoing motifs especially prominent in Proverbs 1–9, the author assures his readers that Wisdom (portrayed as a female figure) is eager to make herself known to 12. John J. Collins, ‘The Reinterpretation of Apocalyptic Traditions in the Wisdom of Solomon’, in The Book of Wisdom in Modern Research (eds H. Passaro and G. Bellia; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2005), pp. 143–57.

186

This World and the World to Come

them (and us).13 Then in 6.17-20 he constructs a chain (or sorites) with links ranging from desire for instruction to ‘a kingdom’ (probably understood here as eternal life with God). He concludes by promising to tell ‘what wisdom is and how she came to be’ (6.22). In describing how one obtains wisdom in 7.1-22a, the author adopts the persona of King Solomon (without using his name).14 After establishing in 7.1-6 that he was born like every other human, he explains that he acquired true wisdom through prayer (‘I called on God, and the spirit of wisdom came to me’, 7.7b), and describes how he came to value wisdom more than every other possession. The scope of the wisdom that he obtained is encyclopedic, including even the natural sciences.15 This was possible because God is the source of all wisdom, and Wisdom herself has taught Solomon (since she was present at creation, see Prov. 8.22-36). The nature of wisdom (7.22b–8.1) is first described in 7.22b-24 with a list of 21 attributes (‘intelligent, holy, unique, manifold, subtle, etc.’) and in terms of the world soul animating all creation (‘more mobile than any motion … she pervades and penetrates all things’, see also 1.7). Next ‘Solomon’ discusses wisdom’s relationships with God (‘breath … emanation … reflection … spotless mirror … image of his goodness’) and with humans (‘she passes into holy souls and makes them friends of God’). Then he notes her cosmic (‘she orders all things well’) and moral (‘evil does not prevail’) significance. In this context wisdom plays pivotal roles as both mediator and saviour in offering rescue from evil and ungodliness, and making possible a life guided by wisdom and leading to eternal life with God. It is not surprising that early Christians had little difficulty in transferring the roles and attributes of Wisdom to Jesus in their hymns (see Jn 1.1-18; Col. 1.1520; and Heb. 1.1-4).16 In 8.2-16 Solomon once more describes his search for wisdom (see also 6.12-21), this time in terms of seeking for a spouse (‘I desired to take her as my bride’) and as finding her as the most precious possession of all. He regards wisdom as the source of all virtues, ‘for she teaches self-control and prudence, justice and courage’ – which are the cardinal virtues of Greek philosophy.17 Because he took wisdom as his wife, he obtained good counsel 13. Patrick W. Skehan, ‘The Literary Relationship of the Book of Wisdom to Earlier Wisdom Writings’, in Israelite Poetry and Wisdom (CBQMS, 1: Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association, 1971), pp. 172–236; and Richard J. Clifford, ‘Proverbs as a Source for Wisdom of Solomon’, in Treasures of Wisdom: Studies in Ben Sira and the Book of Wisdom Festschrift M. Gilbert (eds Nuria Calduch-Benages and Jacques Vermeylen; BETL, 143; Leuven: Peeters, 1999), pp. 255–63. 14. Alexis Leproux, Un discours de Sagesse. Étude exègétique de Sg 7–8 (AnBib, 167; Pontificio Istituto Biblico, 2007). 15. John J. Collins, ‘Natural Theology and Biblical Tradition: The Case of Hellenistic Judaism’, CBQ 60 (1998), pp. 1–15. 16. Martin Neher, Wesen und Wirken der Weisheit in der Sapientia Salomonis (BZAW, 333; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2004). 17. James M. Reese, Hellenistic Influences on the Book of Wisdom and Its Consequences (AnBib, 41; Rome: Pontificio Istituto Biblico, 1970); and Martina Kipper,



‘Saved by Wisdom’ (Wis. 9.18)

187

and encouragement, and so gained the immortality of a good reputation (‘an everlasting remembrance’) and a life with gladness and joy. Living according to wisdom involves both realized (already) and future (eternal life) eschatology. In 8.17–9.18, Solomon returns to the theme of his prayer for wisdom (see also 7.1-22). In his introduction to the prayer he explains that even though the ‘good soul’ that he received in his ‘undefiled body’ predisposed him toward wisdom, he also recognized that he would never possess wisdom unless God gave it to him as a gift. That is why in order to obtain wisdom, he had to pray for it. The prayer itself (9.1-18) consists of an address, two petitions, and a concluding reflection. Solomon approaches God as the creator, ruler, and judge of the world, and at the same time ‘the God of my ancestors and Lord of mercy’. In the first petition (9.4-9) he asks God for the wisdom he needs in order to serve as king and build the Jerusalem Temple. The second petition (9.10-12) is that God will send wisdom from the heavens so that she might serve as a mediator between God and himself. The reflection (9.13-18) explains why wisdom’s role as a mediator is necessary – on account of the weakness of the human condition: ‘for a perishable body weighs down the soul, and this earthly tent burdens the thoughtful mind’ (9.15). The ‘Platonic’ anthropology here is quite striking. He goes on to identify wisdom and God’s ‘holy spirit’, and introduces the theme of the rest of the book – how wisdom saved God’s people (9.18). Summary: the central section of the book shifts the focus from wisdom as wise instruction to wisdom as a personal figure. Obtaining wisdom sets one on the path to righteousness and leads to true immortality. While one must search for wisdom, she is eager to be found and in the final analysis is a gift from God granted in and through prayer. In the order of salvation wisdom is the mediator par excellence between God and humankind. She is the one who can and does save humankind from ungodly living and the ultimate death. 4. Saved from idolatry (Wisdom 10.1–19.22) The survey of wisdom’s role in history from Adam to Moses in 10.1-21 provides a transition from the reflection on her identity in chapters 6–9 to the discussion of the role of God’s ‘word’ in Israel’s exodus from Egypt in chapters 11–19. The thesis of chapter 10 is that wisdom (again conceived as a personal figure) was at work in Israel’s early history, and she was the means by which God directed the course of events and saved his people. The author again uses the rhetorical device of not naming the various biblical heroes and villains, thus engaging and challenging the reader to supply the proper names.18 Hellenistische Bildung im Buch der Weisheit. Studien zur Sprachgestalt und Theologie der Sapientia Salomonis (BZAW, 280; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 1998). 18. Samuel Cheon, ‘Anonymity in the Wisdom of Solomon’, JSP 18 (1998), pp. 111–19.

188

This World and the World to Come

The historical survey consists of eight episodes. Wisdom protected Adam and allowed him to exercise dominion in creation despite his transgression. Wisdom departed from Cain when he killed his brother Abel. Wisdom saved Noah (and thus humankind) from the destruction of the flood. Wisdom chose Abraham out of the chaos of the Tower of Babel, and allowed him to pass through the testing involved in the binding of Isaac. Wisdom rescued Lot from the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and punished those who passed her by. Wisdom rescued Jacob and protected him in all his tribulations. Wisdom delivered Joseph from danger and false accusation, and gave him everlasting honour. And wisdom guided the unfolding of events in the exodus from Egypt by raising up Moses and working wonders and signs through him. In all these interventions wisdom clearly exercised a saving role. It is not surprising that Christian theologians throughout the centuries have taken this passage as a basis for explaining the role of Jesus the Word of God in the economy of salvation before his incarnation. The remainder of the book consists of seven contrasts (11.1-14 and 16.1– 19.22) associated with the exodus, along with a long theological reflection (11.15–12.27) and an even longer excursus on idolatry (13–15).19 The basic principle operative in all seven contrasts is stated in 11.5: ‘For through the very things by which their enemies [the Egyptians] were punished, they [Israel in the exodus] received benefit in their need’.20 The first contrast (11.1-14) concerns water. The primary agent in the exodus is the ‘word’ of God, though in many places it is hard to distinguish between God and his word. Whereas in the wilderness water was given to Israel from a rock (Exod. 17.1-7), in the first plague visited upon Egypt the waters of the Nile were turned into blood and so caused great thirst among the Egyptians. Whereas the thirst that Israel experienced was a merciful discipline from God, the Egyptians’ thirst was a just punishment for their sins.21 The long theological reflection on God’s justice and mercy in 11.15–12.27 reaffirms the principle that ‘one is punished by the very things by which one sins’ (11.16).22 Because the Egyptians worshipped ‘irrational serpents and worthless animals’, God sent upon them ‘a multitude of irrational creatures to punish them’. This is clearly a reference to the plagues of frogs, gnats, and flies described in Exodus 8. However, even here God shows mercy because 19. Addison Wright, ‘The Structure of Wisdom 11–19’, CBQ 27 (1965), pp. 28–34. 20. Michael Kolarcik, ‘Universalism and Justice in the Wisdom of Solomon’, in Treasures of Wisdom: Studies in Ben Sira and the Book of Wisdom Festschrift M. Gilbert (eds Nuria Calduch-Benages and Jacques Vermeylen; BETL, 143; Leuven: Peeters, 1999), pp. 289–301. 21. Samuel Cheon, The Exodus Story in the Wisdom of Solomon: A Study in Biblical Interpretation (JSPSup, 23; Sheffield Academic Press, 1997); and Peter Enns, Exodus Retold: Ancient Exegesis of the Departure from Egypt in Wis 10:15-21 and 19:1-19 (HSM, 57; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1997). 22. Moyna McGlynn, Divine Judgment and Divine Benevolence in the Book of Wisdom (WUNT, 2.139; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001).



‘Saved by Wisdom’ (Wis. 9.18)

189

he could have sent bears, lions, and other fierce beasts. The author interprets these plagues as examples of God’s loving care for his creatures.23 This loving care involves correcting sinners ‘little by little’, and using the things through which they sin to turn them from their sin and to put their trust in God. The balance between justice and mercy is also used to explain God’s dealings with the Canaanites (12.3-18), the Israelites (12.19-22), and the Egyptians (12.23-27). Instead of destroying the Canaanites completely and immediately for their abominable deeds, God chastened them ‘little by little’, thus giving them ‘an opportunity to repent’ (12.10). Even though God may seem to treat the Israelites severely, the reason is so that they might better recognize God’s goodness and expect mercy at the divine judgement (12.22). The Egyptians sinned especially by ‘accepting as gods those animals that even their enemies despised’ (12.24). By not heeding mild rebukes from God, they deserved to experience the judgement of God. In all three cases God sought to save these peoples. But when divine mercy failed in the cases of the Canaanites and Egyptians to gain a proper response, then they had to face the divine judgement. The excursus on idolatry in chapters 13–15 concerns what those outside Israel (and the Egyptians in particular) needed to be saved from.24 Their fundamental error in mistaking nature, animals, and human artifacts for gods led them into a downward spiral of sin and degradation. The logic of the argument here is similar to (and perhaps a direct influence on) Paul’s case for why Gentiles needed the revelation of God’s righteousness in Christ (Rom. 1.18-32).25 While the details in the author’s polemic have their own fascination, what is most important for the theme of soteriology is his judgement that the worship of idols is ‘the beginning and cause and end of every evil’ (14.27). The reason for their foolish idolatry was that they ‘failed to know the one who formed them’ (15.11). The series of seven contrasts (see 11.1-14) resumes in chapter 16. The second contrast (16.1-4) compares the torments inflicted on the Egyptians by the plague of frogs (Exod. 8.1-15) and the quails bestowed on the Israelites (‘a delicacy to satisfy the desire of appetite’, 16.3). The third contrast (16.514) compares the plagues of locusts (Exod. 10.1-20) and flies (Exod. 8.2032) on the Egyptians and the healings that happened to the Israelites in the wilderness during the episode of the bronze serpent (Num. 21.5-9). The 23. Walter Vogels, ‘The God Who Creates Is the God Who Saves: The Book of Wisdom’s Reversal of the Biblical Pattern’, EgT 22 (1991), pp. 315–35; and Juan José Bartolomé, ‘“Señor, amigo de la vida…” (Sb 11,26). El amor, paciente y pedagógico, del Dios creador’, Salesianum 50 (2008), pp. 29–54. 24. Maurice Gilbert, La critique des dieux dans le livre de la Sagesse (Sg 13–15) (AnBib, 53; Rome: Pontificio Istituto Biblico, 1973). 25. Joseph R. Dodson, The ‘Powers’ of Personification: Rhetorical Purpose in the Book of Wisdom and the Letter to the Romans (BZNW, 161; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2008); and Paolo Iovino, ‘“The Only Wise God” in the Letter to the Romans: Connections with the Book of Wisdom’, in The Book of Wisdom in Modern Research (eds H. Passaro and G. Bellia; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2005), pp. 283–305.

190

This World and the World to Come

author insists that the Israelites were healed not by the bronze serpent but rather by God as ‘the Saviour of all’ (16.7) and God’s ‘word that heals all people’ (16.12). The fourth contrast (16.15-29) compares what came down from the heavens upon the Egyptians (hail and lightning, Exod. 9.23-25) and upon the Israelites (manna, or the ‘food of angels’, Exod. 16.1-21). The author observes that ‘your word sustains those who trust in you’ (16.26), another reference to God’s ‘word’ as the agency by which God saves his people. In this part of the book, God’s word seems to function as mediator and saviour, much as wisdom did in chapters 6–10. The fifth contrast (17.1– 18.4) compares the darkness visited on Egypt (Exod. 10.21-23) and the light that Israel experienced in the exodus (Exod. 13.17-22). That light was an anticipation of ‘the imperishable light of the law’ to be given at Mount Sinai to the world. The sixth contrast (18.5-25) compares the deaths of Egyptians at Passover (Exod. 12.29-30) and at the Red Sea (Exod. 14.26-31) with the deaths of Israelites in the wilderness (Num. 16). The divine agent in killing the Egyptians was God’s ‘all powerful word’, who leaped down from the heavens and acted as a ‘stern warrior’ in a land that was doomed. Here the divine ‘word’ is personified, and administers divine justice while bringing about Israel’s salvation. The seventh and final contrast (19.1-22) compares the fates of Egyptians at the Red Sea (Exod. 14) and Israel in the wilderness. The author explains God’s actions in terms of transforming the elements of nature to bring about Israel’s salvation. Summary: the third major part of the book consists of four sections: a description of wisdom’s role in early biblical history, the seven contrasts involved in Israel’s exodus from Egypt, the reflection on God’s mercy and justice, and the excursus on idolatry. Whereas chapter 10 continues the personification of wisdom begun in chapters 6–9, the later chapters emphasize idolatry as the root sin and focus on God’s ‘word’ as the instrument of Israel’s salvation. Although it is God’s will that all be saved, the Canaanites and Egyptians failed to respond to God’s merciful attempts to correct and save them, and so they got what they deserved from God’s justice. 5. Summary of the summaries Looking at the book of Wisdom as a whole, it seems that the author was concerned that his Jewish readers be saved from ungodliness or unrighteousness, ignorance, and idolatry – all dangers especially prevalent for Jews at Alexandria in the first century. He urged his readers to live righteously and wisely, in fidelity to the God of Israel. He also wanted them to enjoy immortality in the form of eternal life with God, and believed that to do so they had to pass the scrutiny of divine judgement. For help along the way they could rely on the God of Israel as ‘the Saviour of all’ (16.7) as well as his surrogates or mediators – wisdom and the word of God.

Part V Dead Sea Scrolls

Chapter 12

Survival at the End of Days: Aspects of Soteriology in the Dead Sea Scrolls Pesharim Alex P. Jassen 1. The Pesharim and the Dead Sea Scrolls The Pesharim represent a collection of previously unknown Hebrew commentaries on scriptural prophetic books and, more broadly, the method of scriptural interpretation contained in these and other scrolls found in the Qumran caves.1 As a genre, Pesharim share a set of common assumptions and characteristics.2 Pesharim presume that the ancient prophetic words do not refer to the specific points in time in which they were uttered. Rather, they are hidden ciphers that allude to the origins, historical circumstances, and eschatological expectations of the community of the Dead Sea Scrolls and other Jews and foreigners (esp. Romans) within its orbit. While the ancient prophets did not understand the full meaning of their words, the Pesharim envision inspired individuals in their own time who possess the ability to uncover the hidden meaning in the scriptural text. The ideological basis of the Pesharim is well articulated in Pesher Habakkuk. The ancient prophets are conceptualized as pronouncing oracles concerning ‘everything that is to come upon his people and [his] com[munity]’ (1QpHab 2.9-10).3 The text describes an inspired exegete imbued with the ability to interpret the meaning of these very words that signify ‘everything 1. The best general overviews of the Pesharim can be found in Timothy H. Lim, Pesharim (CQS, 3; London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002); and Shani Berrin, ‘Qumran Pesharim’, in Biblical Interpretation at Qumran (ed. M. Henze; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), pp. 110–33. 2. For broader discussion of attempts to characterize a pesher genre, see Maurya P. Horgan, Pesharim: Qumran Interpretations of Biblical Books (CBQMS, 8; Washington DC: The Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1979), pp. 229–59; George J. Brooke, ‘Qumran Pesher: Toward the Redefinition of a Genre’, RevQ 10 (1979–81), pp. 483–503; Lim, Pesharim, pp. 44–53. 3. Translations follow (with modification) Michael O. Wise, Martin G. Abegg, Jr, and Edward M. Cook, The Dead Sea Scrolls: A New Translation (New York: HarperCollins, 2nd edn, 2005).

194

This World and the World to Come

that is to co[me up]on the last generation’ (1QpHab 2.7). Pesher Habakkuk later claims that the hidden future meaning of the prophecy was not even known to the prophet: ‘God told Habakkuk to write down the things that are going to come upon the last generation, but when that period would be complete, He did not make known to him’ (1QpHab 7.1-2). The full meaning of the ancient prophetic pronouncements is known only to the Teacher of Righteousness, ‘to whom God made known all the mysteries of the words of his servants the prophets’ (1QpHab 7.4-5). The end of days envisioned in Pesher Habakkuk and throughout the Pesharim is not some distant eschatological age. These texts bear evidence that the sectarian community envisioned the unfolding of the eschatological age in its own time.4 Only when its eschatological expectations failed to materialize did the community assert that ‘the Last Days will be long, much longer than the prophets had said; for God’s revelations are truly mysterious’ (1QpHab 7.7-8), yet ‘all the times fixed by God will come about in due course’ (1QpHab 7.13). The Pesharim give voice both to the expectation of an imminent eschatology and a reconstituted set of eschatological ambitions. Through a variety of exegetical techniques applied to the scriptural lemmata, the ancient prophetic words are provided a new set of meanings and applications.5 One of the most distinctive elements of the Pesharim is their attempt to ‘contemporize’ the words of the ancient prophets, thereby infusing them with eschatological import.6 Formally, Pesharim are marked by the citation of a lemma from a scriptural verse that is then provided with a unique interpretation. In most cases, a distinct technical formula intervenes between the lemma and interpretation – most commonly, one finds some iteration of ‘the interpretation of the passage is …’ (rbdh r#p) or ‘its interpretation is …’ (wr#p).7 The recurring Hebrew technical term for ‘interpretation’ (pesher; pl. pesharim) provides the name for the broader set of texts exhibiting these formal characteristics and the interpretive activity. Pesharim are commonly classified in three distinct categories: (1) continuous Pesharim; (2) thematic Pesharim; (3) isolated Pesharim.8 Continuous Pesharim 4. See Annette Steudel, ‘Mymyh tyrx) in the Texts from Qumran’, RevQ 16 (1993), pp. 225–46. 5. For treatment of exegetical techniques in the Pesharim, see Horgan, Pesharim, pp. 244–6; Berrin, ‘Pesharim’, pp. 126–30; and the commentaries on Pesher Habakkuk by William H. Brownlee, The Midrash Pesher of Habakkuk (SBLMS, 24; Missoula: Scholars Press, 1979); and Bilhah Nitzan, Megillat Pesher Habakkuk (Jerusalem: Bialik Institute, 1986) (Heb.). 6. This feature is emphasized by Karl Elliger, Studien zum Habakuk-Kommentar von Toten Meer (BHT, 15; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1953), esp. p. 150. See further Lim, Pesharim, pp. 51–2; Berrin, ‘Pesharim’, pp. 114–22. 7. These are conveniently collected in Horgan, Pesharim, pp. 239–43. On the linguistic background of this terminology, see Isaac Rabinowitz, ‘“Pe¯sher/Pitta¯ro¯n”: Its Biblical Meaning and its Significance in the Qumran Literature’, RevQ 8 (1973), pp. 219– 32; Horgan, Pesharim, pp. 230–7; Berrin, ‘Pesharim’, pp. 123–6. 8. The distinction between the first two categories is found in J. Carmignac, ‘Le Document de Qumrân sur Melkisédek’, RevQ 7 (1969–71), pp. 342–78. The third category



Survival at the End of Days

195

represent sustained interpretations of entire prophetic books or sections of books. In these texts, a lemma from the scriptural book (of varying length) is cited followed by the technical pesher formula and then the interpretation (also of varying length). This entire structure is repeated for the next lemma in the scriptural text, thus producing a series of similar ‘units’ in the continuous Pesher.9 Thematic Pesharim are characterized by the appearance of pesher exegesis of disparate scriptural passages clustered around a focused theme (see 4Q174, 4Q177, 11Q13). Isolated Pesharim denote individual examples of pesher-type exegesis embedded in larger literary works of clearly different genres.10 The focus of this study is the continuous Pesharim, though I call attention to relevant content from the thematic Pesharim and related sectarian documents where appropriate. Seventeen manuscripts of continuous Pesharim have been identified among the Dead Sea Scrolls:11 Six Pesharim on Isaiah (3Q4, 4Q161-165); two Pesharim on Hosea (4Q166-167); two Pesharim on Micah (1Q14, 4Q168), one Pesher on Nahum (4Q169); one Pesher on Habakkuk (1QpHab); two Pesharim on Zephaniah (1Q15, 4Q170); three Pesharim on the Psalms (1Q16, 4Q171, 4Q173). While Pesher Habakkuk has enjoyed the most scholarly attention, all of the Pesharim have been available for a considerable amount of time and thus a substantial library of editions, commentaries, and studies exists.12 The clear presence in the Pesharim of ideology, language, and figures associated with the sectarian community of the Dead Sea Scrolls confirms their composition by the sectarian community. Paleographical dating places the copying of the bulk of the (continuous) Pesharim from the first century bce through the first half of the first century ce, though a few reflect prefirst century bce dates.13 Attempts to date the composition of each Pesher is developed in Devorah Dimant, ‘Qumran Sectarian Literature’, in Jewish Writings of the Second Temple Period (ed. M. E. Stone; CRINT, 2; Assen Van Gorcum; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984), pp. 483–550 (504–5). See also Lim, Pesharim, pp. 14–15, 24–43, 46–8. 9. See Berrin, ‘Pesharim’, pp. 111–13. 10. Examples of the latter two categories are collected in Lim, Pesharim, pp. 16–18. 11. My numeration follows Horgan, Pesharim. Lim excludes 3Q4 (3QPesher Isaiah) and 4Q168 (4QPesher Micah), presumably because they are too fragmentary to identify with certainty as Pesharim and the technical term pesher is not extant in either. 12. For the editiones princepes, see Millar Burrows, with the assistance of John C. Trever and William H. Brownlee, The Dead Sea Scrolls of St. Mark’s Monastery, Volume 1, The Isaiah Manuscript and Habakkuk Commentary (New Haven: American Schools of Oriental Research, 1950); J. T. Milik, Qumran Cave 1 (DJD, I; Oxford: Clarendon, 1955), pp. 77–81; and John M. Allegro, with Arnold A. Anderson, Qumran Cave 4.I (4Q1584Q186) (DJD, V; Oxford: Clarendon, 1968). All of the Pesharim were re-edited in a single volume with commentary by Horgan, Pesharim, which forms the basis for Horgan’s more recent presentation in James H. Charlesworth (ed.), The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations: Pesharim, Other Commentaries, and Related Documents (PTSDSSP, 6b; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2002). A new edition of Allegro’s DJD V volume is forthcoming under the general editorship of Moshe J. Bernstein and George J. Brooke. 13. Lim, Pesharim, pp. 20–1, conveniently gathers together the suggested paleographical dates along with corroborating evidence from Accelerator Mass

196

This World and the World to Come

are more difficult. While several Pesharim seem to contain allusions to contemporary historical events – a generally effective tool in dating texts – this information is veiled behind the sobriquets and opaque language of the Pesharim and thus difficult to apply to issues of dating.14 Notable exceptions are the historical allusions in Pesher Nahum (4Q169), which are generally recognizable as alluding to events during the reigns of Alexander Janneaus (103–76 bce) and Salome Alexandra (76–67 bce) and the ongoing conflict between their sons Hyrcanus II and Aristobulus II.15 The identification of the Kittim – commonly understood as a cipher for the Romans – as the primary foreign enemy in several other Pesharim suggests a date of composition after the Roman conquest of Judea in 63 bce.16 While the Pesharim no doubt were composed over a lengthy period of sectarian history, the paleographical evidence and contribution of internal allusions point to the first century bce as the most likely time frame for the bulk of this literary activity, with a few composed earlier in the second century bce.17 2. On soteriology and the Dead Sea Scrolls The Pesharim as a unit provide a useful set of texts to examine concepts often associated with the subject of soteriology. The Pesharim reflect a deeply engaged interest in eschatology. More importantly, in this eschatological scenario, humanity will be divided into righteous and wicked, the latter doomed to destruction.18 Thus, one would expect to find in the Pesharim attempts to outline the character of the righteous and why they receive immunity in the unfolding drama of the end of days. Treatments of soteriology in the Dead Sea Scrolls must admit at the outset that the very search for a doctrine of salvation imposes on the material a foreign concept. The sectarian community of the Dead Sea Scrolls, like much of Second Temple Judaism, was quite clearly concerned with questions Spectrometry dating for Pesher Habakkuk and Pesher Psalmsa (4Q171). Early Pesharim are Pesher Isaiah C (4Q163) – c. 100 bce; and the Cave 1 copies of Pesher Micah (1Q14) and Pesher Psalms (1Q16) – before the first century bce. 14. See a complete review of these allusions in James H. Charlesworth, The Pesharim and Qumran History: Chaos or Consensus? (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), pp. 77– 118. 15. See Lim, Pesharim, pp. 31–2. 16. The identification of the Kittim as the Romans in Pesher Habakkuk is assured based on the reference to the Kittim sacrificing to their standards in 1QpHab 6.3-5, a practice elsewhere identified with the Roman armies (Josephus, War 6.316). See also 4Q169 3-4 i 2-3, which seems to allude to the conquest of Jerusalem by the Kittim/Romans. See further George J. Brooke, ‘The Kittim in the Qumran Pesharim’, in Images of Empire (ed. L. Alexander; JSOTSup, 122; Sheffield: JOST Press, 1993), pp. 135–59. 17. So Horgan, Pesharim (2002), p. 1; Charlesworth, Pesharim and Qumran History, p. 118. 18. On this orientation of the Pesharim, see especially Nitzan, Pesher Habakkuk, pp. 11–19.



Survival at the End of Days

197

related to one’s salvation. At the same time, soteriology as a fully developed theology and even in many of its constitutive elements is a concept unique to early Christianity. As noted in most discussions of soteriology in Second Temple Judaism, one cannot find in the scrolls terminology found in the later Christian doctrine of salvation or even an overriding concern with many of the individual elements.19 Thus, scholars interested in this issue generally comb through the scrolls in search of individual ideas and concepts. These are then pulled together into a coherent model that draws out the major themes and ideas that later become central to a more fully developed Christian doctrine of salvation. This type of approach is best exemplified by the work of E. P. Sanders, who draws upon a wide range of material to construct his portrait of Palestinian Judaism, which includes a section on the Dead Sea Scrolls then available to him.20 While Sanders’ stated goal was to let the Jewish sources speak for themselves, he has been criticized for reading too much into the Jewish evidence.21 More generally, in the specific 19. It is true that Hebrew terms appear in the scrolls that may approximate later Pauline categories (e.g., qdc, +p#m). This terminology, however, has a wide range of meanings and often only corresponds to soteriological categories in light of scholarly understandings of their literary context as read through the analytical lens of Christian soteriology. 20. See E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns in Religion (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977). The scrolls are treated on pp. 233–338. Several other attempts to map out a soteriology of the scrolls have been undertaken, both before and after Sanders. Most significantly, see Walter Grundmann, ‘The Teacher of Righteousness of Qumran and the Question of Justification by Faith in the Theology of the Apostle Paul’, in Paul and Qumran: Studies in New Testament Exegesis (ed. J. Murphy-O’Conner; London: G. Chapman, 1968), pp. 85–114 (earlier version appeared in RevQ 2 (1960), pp. 237–59); Paul Garnet, Salvation and Atonement in the Qumran Scrolls (WUNT, 2.3; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1977; see also idem, ‘Qumran Light on Pauline Soteriology’, in Pauline Studies: Essays Presented to F.F. Bruce on His 70th Birthday (eds D. A. Hagner and M. J. Harris; Exeter: Paternoster; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1980), pp. 19–32); Otto Betz, ‘Rechtfertigung in Qumran’, in Rechtfertigung: Festschrift für Ernst Käsemann zum 70. Geburtstag (eds J. Friedrich, W. Pöhlmann, and P. Stuhlmacher; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1976), pp. 17–36; Mark A. Seifrid, Justification by Faith: The Origin and Development of a Central Pauline Theme (NovTSup, 68; Leiden: Brill, 1992), esp. pp. 81–106; Martin Abegg Jr, ‘4QMMT C 27, 31 and “Works Righteousness”’, DSD 6 (1999), pp. 139–47; idem, ‘4QMMT, Paul, and the “Works of the Law”’, in The Bible at Qumran: Text, Shape, and Interpretation (eds P. W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), pp. 203–16; Mark A. Elliot, The Survivors of Israel: A Reconsideration of the Theology of Pre-Christian Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), passim; Markus Bockmuehl, ‘1QS and Salvation at Qumran’, in Justification and Variegated Nomism: Volume 1: The Complexities of Second Temple Judaism (eds D. A. Carson, P. T. O’Brien, and M. A. Seifrid; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), pp. 381–414 (reprinted as pp. 229–61 in this volume); Simon J. Gathercole, Where is Boasting? Early Jewish Soteriology and Paul’s Response in Romans 1-5 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), esp. pp. 91–111; Albert L. A. Hogeterp, ‘4QMMT and Paradigms of Second Temple Jewish Nomism’, DSD 15 (2008), pp. 359–79. 21. Indeed, nearly every treatment of the subject post-Sanders – whether with a focus on Paul or the contemporary Jewish evidence – is in some way a critical engagement with Sanders’ presentation. A broad review of post-Sanders scholarship is found in Seifrid, Justification by Faith, pp. 46–75.

198

This World and the World to Come

case of the scrolls, attempts to map out a soteriology of the scrolls run the risk of pulling together disparate material into a unified theological system that likely would have seemed foreign to the community of the Dead Sea Scrolls.22 While neither the Dead Sea Scrolls as a whole nor the specific corpus of Pesharim speak to a fully developed soteriology, many of the individual elements associated with how and why one achieves eschatological salvation are scattered among the writings of the community of the Dead Sea Scrolls. In some cases, as for example in column 11 of the Rule of the Community (1QS), these ideas are considerably developed.23 Examples like this are helpful because they shed light on the Jewish background for the later Christian doctrine of salvation. Thus, if we limit ourselves to the individualized theological concepts – and draw our linguistic and conceptual categories from the scrolls – both the scrolls and the Pesharim do provide a range of useful data that can be drawn upon to construct a model of the sectarian community’s beliefs regarding salvation. This in turn allows us to understand better the pre-history of many of the constitutive elements of Christian soteriology. The discussion that follows focuses on three broad areas: (1) the identity of the true Israel; (2) the role of the law in eschatological salvation; (3) the eschatological reward of the righteous. 3. The building blocks of soteriology in the Pesharim 3.1. Election, Israel, and remnant theology Markus Bockmuehl has observed a series of tensions in the sectarian literature regarding the conceptualization of the true Israel and its consequences for sectarian conceptions of who will survive the utter devastation envisaged for the eschaton.24 On the one hand, several passages in the Damascus Document and the War Scroll seem to present earlier scriptural notions of Israel, which is conceived of as a distinct ethnic people with a special relationship to God, thus ensuring eschatological salvation. Yet, other texts such as the Hodayot appear far more restrictive in their view of election as vouchsafed for the righteous and not the wicked outsiders, the emphasis being their outsider status not their wicked disposition.25 Both approaches, observes Bockmuehl, seem to exist together in the Rule of the Community. Ultimately, Bockmuehl argues, the scrolls identify the community as ‘eschatologically representative

22. Bockmuehl, ‘1QS and Salvation’, pp. 383–4 (pp. 231–2). This very point is noted in Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 75, in the context of rabbinic Judaism. 23. See Garnet, Salvation, pp. 73–80; Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 306– 12; Seifrid, Justification, p. 90; Bockmuehl, ‘1QS and Salvation’, pp. 398–9 (pp. 246–7). 24. See also Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 240–57; Seifrid, Justification, pp. 83–9. 25. Bockmuehl, ‘1QS and Salvation’, pp. 388–90 (pp. 236–7).



Survival at the End of Days

199

(rather than substitutive) for the nation as a whole’.26 Bockmuehl’s model of the community as the ‘vanguard of the nation’ works well with the ‘remnant’ language commonly applied to the community, both in the past and eschatological future.27 The community, as the righteous, survives unscathed at the end of days not because it is the only true Israel, but rather because the community is unique among Jews for properly upholding Israel’s covenantal obligations. Conversely, the outsiders are apostates and beyond the pale of the remnant of Israel – but still Israel in a broadly conceived sense.28 Throughout Bockmuehl’s discussion, the Pesharim are never introduced as conversation partners. The eschatological urgency detected in the Pesharim would seem to suggest an interest in working out some of these seemingly pressing questions. Indeed, a closer examination of several passages, particularly in Pesher Habakkuk (1QpHab), Pesher Psalmsa (4Q171), and Pesher Isaiah A (4Q161) alongside other Pesharim, provides further evidence in support of Bockmuehl’s general schema as well as further nuances it. Pesher Habakkuk uses the scriptural text as an exegetical springboard to outline the divisions of humanity – the righteous sectarians over against the wicked Kittim (Romans) and non-sectarian Jews – and the final devastation that the wicked will suffer. Yet, Pesher Habakkuk never identifies the sectarians as the only true Israel, though they do possess a special status. The non-sectarians are clearly regarded as members of Israel, albeit treacherous apostates. The divisions of Israel are enumerated in the Pesher unit on Hab. 1.5 in column two. Pesher Habakkuk sees in the scriptural lemma ‘nations’ (Mwygb) a threefold allusion to ‘traitors’ (Mydgwb).29 They are the traitors, who in collusion with the Man of Lie, fail to listen to the Teacher of Righteousness (ll. 1-2) and the ‘trait[ors to] the new [covenant]’ who are not faithful to the ‘covenant of God’ (ll. 3-4).30 The first group seems to refer to general nonsectarians who have consistently rejected the sectarian viewpoint, while the 26. Bockmuehl, ‘1QS and Salvation’, p. 390 (p. 238). 27. See below on Pesher Isaiah A (4Q161) and Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 250–2; Elliot, Survivors of Israel, pp. 115–18; Craig A. Evans, ‘Covenant in the Qumran Literature’, in The Concept of the Covenant in the Second Temple Period (eds S. E. Porter and J. C. R. Roo; JSPSup, 71; Leiden: Brill, 2003), pp. 55–80. 28. Bockmuehl notes the existence of a more exclusivist stance in 1QS 5.11-13, though attributes this to a later redactional phase (‘1QS and Salvation’, pp. 406–10 (pp. 253–7)). 29. For further analysis of this unit with fuller bibliography, see Alex P. Jassen, Mediating the Divine: Prophecy and Revelation in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Second Temple Judaism (STDJ, 68; Leiden: Brill, 2007), pp. 30–4. 30. The restoration of the first appearance of ‘covenant’ seems assured based on the second usage (cf. ll. 6, 14). See Horgan, Pesharim (2002), p. 162. On the concept of covenant more broadly, see Lawrence H. Schiffman, ‘The Concept of Covenant in the Qumran Scrolls and Rabbinic Literature’, in Qumran and Jerusalem: Studies in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the History of Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), pp. 235–55; Evans, ‘Covenant in the Qumran Literature’, pp. 55–80; Martin G. Abegg, ‘The Covenant of the Qumran Sectarians’, in The Concept of the Covenant in the Second Temple Period (eds S. E. Porter and J. C. R. Roo; JSPSup, 71; Leiden: Brill, 2003), pp. 81–97.

200

This World and the World to Come

second group alludes to individuals who joined the sectarian community, but have since reneged on their commitment and therefore forfeited their alliance with the sect.31 A third group of traitors are located at the end of days, and further described as ‘violator[s of the cove]nant’ (ll. 5-6). As noted by Horgan, this negative appellation could be understood as a subjective genitive (i.e., ‘those of the covenant who are violators’) or an objective genitive (i.e., ‘violators toward the covenant’).32 The former understanding would apply to a group of people within the sect who are now regarded as traitors (like the group in ll. 3-4), while the latter would seem to imply outsiders (ll. 1-2). According to either understanding, the division is still between two groups of Jews. It is possible that the author has exploited the syntactic ambiguity to condemn both groups of ‘traitors’ from lines 1-4 and affirm their shared fate in the end of days. When we read through the thick sectarian rhetoric in this passage, it becomes clear that the traitors are condemned for two interconnected reasons. First, the threefold reference to traitors is matched by a threefold reference to their failure to adhere to the covenant. In this context, the ‘covenant of God’ (l. 4) is presented as commensurate with the ‘new covenant’ (l. 3), the terminology for the sectarian designation of its covenantal identity.33 Moreover, the traitors are condemned for their failure to listen to the Teacher of Righteousness (ll. 2-3, 7-8). The issue here is not merely about power and authority, but the recognition that the Teacher is imbued with special knowledge from God (cf. 1QpHab 7.4-5). He has received ‘discernment’ from God to interpret all the words of the ancient prophets (ll. 8-9) and speaks from the ‘mouth of God’ (ll. 2-3). Thus, rejection of him is tantamount to rejection of the proper way to observe the covenant. The division of the righteous sectarians and the apostate non-sectarians plays out throughout the rest of Pesher Habakkuk and reappears in other Pesharim. This distinction is drawn within the framework of the people of Israel, whereby both groups constitute God’s nation. Again, the issue is fidelity to the covenantal obligations. The designation of the sectarians as the ‘men of truth’ is specifically tied to their performance of the law (hrwth y#w() (1QpHab 7.10-11; cf. 8.1; 12.4-5; 4Q171 1-10 ii 15; 4Q174 (Florilegium) 1 ii 2). Several Pesharim identify the sectarians as (1): ‘His chosen ones/Elect’ (wryxb; 1QpHab 5.4; 9.12; 4Q164 (Pesher Isaiah D) 1 3; 4Q169 (Pesher Nahum) 1-2 ii 8;34 4Q171 1-10 ii 5; 1-10 iii 5; 1-10 iv 12);35 (2) the ‘elect of Israel’ (l)r#y yryxb; 4Q165 (Pesher Isaiah E) 6 1; 4Q171 11 2); and (3) 31. See Brownlee, Midrash Pesher, p. 55; Jassen, Mediating the Divine, p. 32. 32. Horgan, Pesharim (2002), p. 163 n. 18. My translation ‘violators’ (contra Horgan, ‘ruthless ones’) follows Brownlee, Midrash Pesher, p. 55, as a way to capture better the precise nature of the opposition implied by the Hebrew ycyr(. 33. See John J. Collins, Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), pp. 12–51. 34. Horgan, Pesharim, p. 170, reconstructs l)r#y y]ryxb [td(, though likewise allows for the possibility of merely w]ryxb [td( (Pesharim (2002), p. 147). 35. This word contains a morphologically ambiguous possessive suffix, whereby it could be rendered as ‘His chosen one’ or ‘His chosen ones’. Even if the singular is intended,



Survival at the End of Days

201

the ‘elect of God’ (l) yryxb; 1QpHab 10.13; 1Q14 (Pesher Micah) 8-10 7-8; 4Q171 1-10 iv 14).36 In contrast, negligence marks the non-sectarians as not only ‘traitors’, but as ‘wicked’ (1QpHab 5.5; 4Q171 1-10 ii 18-20; 1-10 iii 12). Pesher Hoseab interprets Hos. 6.7 – ‘They, like Adam, broke the covenant’ – as alluding to those who ‘abandoned God and followed the laws of …’ (4Q167 7-8 1-2). Notwithstanding the fragmentary text, it is clear that violation of the divine law is equated with the scriptural reference to failure to adhere to the covenant. The Man of Lies moreover is identified as such on account of his rejection of the Torah (1QpHab 5.11-12; cf. 2.1-2). The pejorative designation of the outsiders in column two of Pesher Habakkuk as ‘violators of the covenant’ (1QpHab 2.6; cf. 1.11) also appears as the preferred moniker for sectarian enemies in Pesher Psalmsa (4Q171 1-10 ii 14-15; 1-10 iii 12; 1-10 iv 1-2 (recon.)).37 While covenantal negligence places the non-sectarians outside the pale of the ‘chosen ones’, they are clearly still within Israel. Column five of Pesher Habakkuk describes the eschatological fate of the ‘wicked ones of His people’ (l. 5). This Pesher unit describes how God will not destroy ‘His people’ at the hands of ‘the nations’. Rather, the ‘chosen ones’ – the sectarian community – are entrusted with the task of judging the nations (l. 4). The ‘chosen ones’ have a second task – they will render as guilty (wm#)y) the wicked ‘of His people’ (l. 5).38 In this context, the ‘chosen ones’ are identified as those that ‘kept his commandments in the time of their distress’, presumably attesting to their suitability to judge the wicked ones.39 The designation of the outsiders it likely still refers to the sectarian community (i.e., ‘His Elect’). See fuller discussion of the syntactic and interpretive issues in Brownlee, Midrash Pesher, pp. 86–7. The larger formulation wryxb td( (i.e., ‘congregation of His chosen ones’) in Pesher Psalmsa and Pesher Isaiah D suggests that at least in those cases it should be understood as a plural form. See also the restoration of 4Q169 1-2 ii 8 as found in the previous note. 36. Similar terminology appears elsewhere in the Dead Sea Scrolls: CD 4.3-4; 1QS 8.6; 9.14; 11.7, 16; 1QM 12.1; 1QHa 6.15; 10.13; 4Q174 1-2 i, 21 19; 4Q286 7 a Col. i, b–d 2; 4Q375 2 ii 5; 4Q380 1 ii 11; 4Q416 2 ii 14; 4Q418 21 1; 4Q438 3 2. cf. 4Q275 1 2. See Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 244–6; Ellen Juhl Christiansen, ‘Election as Identity Term in 1 Peter with a View to a Qumran Background’, SEÅ 73 (2008), pp. 39–64. 37. The same syntactic ambiguity detected above in the use of this expression in Pesher Habakkuk exists in the use in Pesher Psalmsa. See also the characterization of the non-sectarians as tyrb y(y#rm in 1QM 1.2. 38. Some have argued that this expression should be understood as ‘shall atone for’, in the sense that the judgement of the ‘chosen ones’ will expiate the sins of even the wicked. Some even read here a reference to the vicarious suffering of the ‘chosen ones’. See Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 254–5. On the linguistic issue, see Horgan, Pesharim, pp. 32–3, who correctly notes that the meaning ‘to atone’ is otherwise unattested for M#). See the further discussion and rejection of this understanding in Elliot, Survivors of Israel, pp. 67–72. Elliot’s discussion is set in a broader treatment of the attitude toward atonement in the scrolls (drawing on Garnet, Salvation). 39. Pesher Nahum contains a fragmentary reference to what seems to describe the destruction (db)) of the wicked by the chosen ones (4Q169 1-2 ii 8). The precise identity of the wicked is not entirely clear.

202

This World and the World to Come

as ‘violators of the covenant’ in Pesher Psalmsa twice qualifies their ethnicnational status as ‘violators of the covenant, who are in the house of Judah’ (4Q171 1-10 ii 14-15) and ‘violators of the co[venant, the wi]cked ones of Israel’ (4Q171 1-10 iii 12).40 In the former passage, the ‘violators’ are contrasted with the ‘doers’ of the Torah (hrwth y#w(). In all these settings, a clear distinction is made between the detested foreigners and the apostate Jews. The presentation of the apostate Jews throughout Pesher Habakkuk stands in further contrast to that of the foreigners. Column three describes the initial success of the Kittim; indeed, their military might is crushing and cruel (cf. 1QpHab 6.8-12). Despite this early success, God will destroy the Kittim in the eschatological battle. More specifically, columns 12-13 describe the fate of ‘all the nations’ (1QpHab 13.1), presumably including the Kittim.41 In contrast to the covenantal apostasy of the non-sectarian Jews, the crime of these nations is identified as idolatry (12.12–13.4; cf. 6.3-5).42 This unit concludes by describing the circumstances of the day of judgement (ll. 2-4), on which God will ‘exterminate those who worship false gods and the wicked ones’. The former group is clearly the foreigners. The earlier use of ‘wicked ones’ to describe the apostate Jews suggests that they are likewise intended here.43 In adding this final reference to the ‘wicked ones’, Pesher Habakkuk points to the shared fate of the foreign nations and the apostate Jews, notwithstanding their divergent crimes and distinct national-ethnic identity. A similar rhetorical point is found in Pesher Psalmsa (4Q171) 1-10 ii 1-20 to describe the divisions within Israel. Psalm 37.8-9 ‘Renounce your anger and abandon your resentment, don’t yearn to do evil, because evildoers will be wiped out’, is interpreted to refer to the competing fates of those that return to the Torah and those that refuse to do so (ll. 1-4). As the Pesher continues, ‘But those who trust in the Lord are the ones who will inherit the earth’ (Ps. 37.9b) refers to the community of his chosen ones, while ‘Very soon there will be no wicked man; look where he was, he’s not there’ (Ps. 37.10) identifies the complete annihilation of the wicked (ll. 4-9). In the aftermath of the downfall of the wicked, the ‘meek’ who ‘inherit the earth’ (Ps. 37.11) are the ‘community of poor ones’ (ll. 9-12), a title used again in Pesher Psalmsa (4Q171 1-10 iii 10) and in Pesher Habakkuk to refer to the

40. A similar qualification likely is found in the lacuna in the third iteration of this designation (4Q171 1-10 iv 1). See also the reference to the ‘wicked ones of Ephraim and Manasseh’ (4Q171 1-10 ii 18; see also 4Q169 3-4 iv 5). Compare the expression ‘wicked ones of the nations’ as found in 4Q167 (Pesher Hoseab) 10, 26 3; 4Q169 3-4 i 1. 41. This understanding works well with the presentation of the eschatological war in 1QM 1-2, where the Kittim are one among many foreign enemies. 42. Though, Elliot, Survivors of Israel, p. 116, correctly observes that the covenantal disobedience of non-sectarians is described in 1QS 5.18-20 with terminology (esp. lbh) reminiscent of the scriptural condemnation of idolatry. See also 1QS 2.11-12, 16-17. 43. So also Brownlee, Midrash Pesher, p. 217.



Survival at the End of Days

203

special status of the sectarian community (1QpHab 12.3, 6, 10; cf. 1QHa 10.32; 13.22). Pesher Psalmsa continues by describing the nature of the downfall of the wicked non-sectarians, here introduced with the designation ‘violators of the covenant’ (tyrbh ycyr(), as found in Pesher Habakkuk. They will be obliterated at the hands of the ‘ruthless ones of nations’ (My)wg ycyr() (4Q171 1-10 ii 18-20; see also 1-10 iv 8-10), terminology drawn from Ezekiel to describe the foreign nations that lay waste to Israel (Ezek. 28.7; 30.11; 31.12; 32.12). Whereas in Ezekiel they destroy Israel more broadly, in the Pesher the object of their destruction is merely the wicked within Israel. At the same time, use of terminology (… ycyr() for the wicked nations to describe the wicked in Israel has a potent rhetorical effect of marginalizing the latter and placing them even further outside the pale of the chosen ones within Israel. The intersecting issues of election, remnant identity, and the eschatological war converge in Pesher Isaiah A (4Q161).44 As a Pesher on the scriptural remnant imagery of Isa. 10.20-23, it is uniquely poised to reveal the nature of the sectarian self-identity as the remnant of Israel. The bulk of the Pesher on these verses, however, is either not extant or highly fragmentary. In a separate study, I have reconstructed the fragmentary Pesher on Isa. 10.22 in light of the broader exegetical context (4Q161 2-4 1-5):45 1. […] for [ ]◦y sons of [ …] 2. […] his people [and re]garding that which it says: ‘Even if [your people, 3. O Israel], Should b[e as the sands of the sea, Only a remnant of it shall return. De]struction is decr]eed; and it overflows with righteous[ness]’ (Isa. 10.22) 4. [ its interpretation (is that) … until des]truction on the d[ay of slau]ghter; and many shall peri[sh 5. [… they will es]cape to be as a truthful plan[ting in the] land ◦[…

The scriptural lemma describes the destruction of wider segments of Israel, while a small remnant remains. These circumstances are then mapped onto the eschatological situation of the sect and its enemies. In particular, line four describes the destruction (db)) of the ‘many’ (Mybr), a word combination employed in other Pesharim to describe the eventual downfall of wider segments of Jews.46 In contrast, the Pesher describes the escape (w+lmy) 44. See also Joel Willitts, ‘The Remnant of Israel in 4QpIsaiaha (4Q161) and the Dead Sea Scrolls’, JJS 57 (2006), pp. 11–25. 45. See Alex P. Jassen, ‘Rereading 4QPesher Isaiah A (4Q161) Forty Years after DJD 5’, in The Mermaid and the Partridge: Essays from the Copenhagen Conference on Revising Texts from Cave Four (eds G. J. Brooke and J. Høgenhaven; STDJ 96; Leiden: Brill, 2010), pp. 57–90. The numbering system supplied here follows Allegro’s editio princeps. In Horgan’s modified line numbering, it is 2-6 ii 8-9. 46. See 1QpHab 6.10; 4Q171 1-10 i 26–1-10 ii 1; 1–10 iii 2-4; cf. 1QpHab 2.13 as restored by Horgan, Pesharim, p. 26. See further, Jassen, ‘Rereading 4QPesher Isaiah A’, p. 67. See also the fragmentary passage in 4Q169 1-2 ii 8, in which an unclear group – perhaps the ‘many’ introduced in line 6 – perishes (db)) at the hands of the ‘chosen ones’.

204

This World and the World to Come

of a particular group, thus corresponding to the remnant in the lemma.47 The final clause in the Pesher is extremely fragmentary, but seems to refer to the constitution of the surviving remnant as a ‘truthful planting’.48 The self-referential imagery is well known for the community of the Dead Sea Scrolls (e.g., 1QS 8.5; 11.8) and reinforces the community’s identity as the reconstituted Israel in the eschatological age.49 Pesher Isaiah A draws on the remnant imagery of Isa. 10.22 to make a distinction between the sectarian community – the embodiment of the remnant – and all other Jews, who will be destroyed, just as the wider segments of Israel in the scriptural base-text. As in Pesher Habakkuk, the enemies of the sect suffer the same fate as the foreigners – fragments 8-10 of Pesher Isaiah A describe the eventual demise of the Kittim at the hands of the Prince of the Congregation. Even taking into account the fragmentary nature of the Pesher on the remnant theme, there is no indication that Pesher Isaiah A envisions the sectarian remnant as the one true realization of the people Israel. Though we are provided with precious few details about the ‘many’, they are never presented as complete outsiders. Rather, as in Pesher Habakkuk, they seem to be on the wrong side of the division of Israel. 3.2. Covenantal nomism and eschatological salvation The foregoing discussion has demonstrated how central the covenant and its obligations are to the sectarian conceptualization of the unfolding drama of the end of days. Put very simply, the sectarians, as upholders of the covenant, are rewarded for their fidelity, while the wicked ‘violators of the covenant’ are obliterated along with the foreign nations. What is not yet clear is the nature of the relationship between the observance of covenantal obligations and eschatological salvation. Does fidelity to the covenant ensure one’s eschatological salvation (i.e., justification by works) or, following Sanders’ model of covenantal nomism, does this fidelity serve to maintain one’s place in the elect of Israel?50 Or, perhaps a different model is appropriate. The situation described in the Pesharim must be understood within the broader context of the developing sectarian worldview. In particular, 47. Similar language and imagery appears in CD 7.14; 7.21–8.1; 19.9-10. 48. See Jer. 32.41b and Isa. 60.21; Jub. 21.24 (4Q219 2.29-31); cf. 16.26; 36.6; 1 En. 10.16 (4Q204 1 v 4); 93.5, 10 (4Q212 1 iv 12-13); 1QHa 14.15; 16.10. See further, Jassen, ‘Rereading 4QPesher Isaiah A’, pp. 71–2. 49. See Patrick A. Tiller, ‘The Eternal Planting in the Dead Sea Scrolls’, DSD 4 (1997), pp. 312–35; Paul Swarup, The Self-Understanding of the Dead Sea Scrolls Community: An Eternal Planting, A House of Holiness (LSTS, 59; London: T&T Clark, 2006). 50. Sanders succinctly summarizes ‘covenantal nomism’ as ‘the view that one’s place in God’s plan is established on the basis of the covenant and that the covenant requires as the proper response of man his obedience to its commandments, while providing means of atonement for transgression’ (Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 75).



Survival at the End of Days

205

any understanding of the Pesharim must consider their likely composition toward the later period of the history of the sectarian community and the eschatological orientation of their content. In other words, these texts stem from a period in the history of the community where the dualistic and predestinarian mindset so often associated with the full-fledged sectarian community predominates. This division of humanity in the Pesharim stands in stark contrast to the porous social boundaries outlined in the earlier sectarian text 4QMiqs. at Ma‘as´e Ha-Torah (4QMMT – 4Q394-399).51 This text outlines a series of disagreements over the application of Jewish law and ritual (identified as ‘works of the Law’, hrwth y#(m – C 27 = 4Q398 14-17 ii 3), whereby its author(s) claims to possess the single correct interpretation.52 As in the Pesharim, the covenantal obligations are central in 4QMMT. In particular, the Epilogue to 4QMMT affirms that observance or perceived non-observance divides humanity into righteous and wicked (esp. C 7-9, 23-32). While noncompliance will bring about the scriptural curses (C 12-16), the opponents in the text are never condemned to inevitable destruction. On the contrary, they are provided with a simple solution to correct their errant ways: if only they would study scripture carefully – obviously with the sectarian hermeneutic lens – they would be able to observe the laws properly (C 10-11). This is conceptualized as good for both the sectarian opponents and for all of Israel (C 31).53 In this text, the covenantal obligations are the reason for the marginalization of the non-sectarian opponents. Accordingly, their proper observance is viewed as the path to the reconstitution of all of Israel, which seems to be the desired goal of the author(s). 4QMMT fits well Sanders’ model of covenantal nomism. Proper observance of the commandments is the key to maintaining one’s place within the elect community of Israel.54 Yet, non-observance does not exclude oneself from Israel. Rather, it places the covenantal transgressors among the wrong part of Israel and thus liable to suffer the appropriate eschatological punishment. At the same time, for 4QMMT, proper observance of the covenant is the very mechanism of atonement for covenantal disobedience. The Pesharim agree with much of the portrait outlined in 4QMiqs. at Ma‘as´e Ha-Torah, though significant distinctions exist. In both settings, it is 51. See Elisha Qimron and John Strugnell, Qumran Cave 4.V: 4QMiqs. at Ma‘as´e Ha-Torah (DJD, X; Oxford: Clarendon, 1994). References are drawn from their composite edition. 52. On 4QMMT (not available to Sanders) and its significance for soteriology, see the articles by Abegg and Hogeterp cited above n. 20, and J. D. G. Dunn, ‘4QMMT and Galatians’, NTS 43 (1997), pp. 147–53; M. Bachmann, ‘4QMMT und Galaterbrief hrwth h#(m and ERGA NOMOU’, ZNW 89 (1998), pp. 91–113. 53. See further, Alex P. Jassen, ‘Violence and the Dead Sea Scrolls: Sectarian Formation and Eschatological Imagination’, BibInt 17 (2009), pp. 12–44 (20–1). 54. See especially Abegg, ‘4QMMT C 27, 31’; Hogeterp, ‘4QMMT’. The attempt to read a ‘justification by works’ model into 4QMMT in Gathercole, Where is Boasting?, esp. pp. 93–5, misconstrues the broader social and literary setting of the text.

206

This World and the World to Come

observance or non-observance of the commandments that divides humanity. As in related sectarian literature, the Pesharim also subscribe to a dualistic division of humanity, whereby the sectarians are predestined to be among the righteous Sons of Light and all others are likewise predestined to be among the Sons of Darkness. Within this division of humanity, covenantal observance ensures one’s place among the righteous, as outlined in the passages cited above that inextricably link the special status of the community and its eschatological survival to its fidelity to the covenant. Conversely, failure to follow the law according to the sectarian interpretation can result in the forfeiture of one’s elect status, as found with regard to the ‘traitors to the new covenant’ in Pesher Habakkuk (1QpHab 2.3-4).55 This translates into their eschatological annihilation. A passage in Pesher Micah expresses well the role of the law in securing eschatological salvation: ‘And what are Judah’s high places? [Behold, they are Jerusalem’ (Mic. 1.5). This refers t]o the Teacher of Righteousness who himself [shall teach the law to his par-] ty and to all those who are willing (Mybdndmh) to be added to the chosen of [God, the ones who observe the law] in the party of the Yah. ad who will be saved on the day of [judgement]. (1Q14 8-10 5-9)

This passage closely links observance of the law and salvation on the day of judgement.56 Yet, it is not observance of the law alone that ensures eschatological salvation. Rather, knowledge of the law and its observance is a sine qua non of membership in the elect community. Knowledge and observance outside of the communal framework is impossible. Thus, it is not the law that saves, but one’s status as a member of the community that secures survival at the end of days. A second important element in this passage is the assumption that outsiders can join the community of the Yah. ad. In a curious formulation, the outsiders choose to become members of God’s elect. This choice involves obtaining knowledge of the correct meaning of the law. In this sense, Pesher Micah agrees with 4QMiqs. at Ma‘as´e Ha-Torah that knowledge (meaning sectarian knowledge) coupled with observance is sufficient to join the side of the elect. The possibility of obtaining knowledge about the law in Pesher Micah contrasts with the obstinacy of the opponents in Pesher Habukkuk. In the passage from column two discussed above, they reject the special knowledge of the Teacher of Righteousness (1QpHab 2.6-10). As expressed elsewhere in Pesher Habakkuk, God has granted the Teacher alone the knowledge of the mysteries (zr) of the ancient prophets (1QpHab 7.3-5). With this perspective on the relationship of law, eschatological salvation, and the Teacher of Righteousness, we can now examine the interpretation of 55. A similar sense of losing one’s place in the covenant is expressed in CD 7.11-14; 20.25-27. See further Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 255–7. 56. The ‘day of judgement’ (+p#mh Mwy) also appears in 1QpHab 12.14; 13.23 (see above); 3Q4 (3QPesher Isaiah) 6. See also 4Q275 2; 4Q418 212 2 (both very fragmentary).



Survival at the End of Days

207

Hab. 2.4b – ‘But the righteous man by his faith (wtnwm)) shall live’ – in Pesher Habakkuk (1QpHab 7.17–8.3).57 As is well known, Paul’s interpretation of this passage is a cornerstone of his ‘justification by faith’ model, whereby faith in Christ ensures salvation (Rom. 1.17; Gal. 3.11; cf. Heb. 10.38).58 Pesher Habakkuk interprets Hab. 2.4b as follows: This refers to all those who obey the Law among the Jews whom God will rescue from among those doomed to judgement, because of their suffering (Mlm() and their belief (Mtnm)) in the Teacher of Righteousness. (1QpHab 8.1-3)

The similarities to the Pauline interpretation on Hab. 2.4b have long been noted, but the nature and significance of these similarities have been contested. Some early scholars sought to see an exact replica of the Pauline interpretation of faith in Christ. So, for example, A. Dupont-Sommer: ‘The Faith which saves is faith in the Teacher of Righteousness, divine founder of the New Covenant’.59 Even those who recognize the significance of the law in this passage have tended to focus on the faith in the personage of the Teacher of Righteousness.60 Moreover, attempts to read a model of justification by faith and works in this passage are likewise misguided.61 As the passages in Pesher Micah and elsewhere in Pesher Habakkuk attest, the importance of the Teacher is as the authoritative interpreter of the law. Thus, ‘faith’ (hnm)) in him is commensurate with fidelity to his interpretation of the law.62 Indeed, the threefold condemnation of the ‘traitors’ in column 57. Pesher Habakkuk (and Paul) seems to have a Vorlage of Hab. 2.4b that reads ‘his faith’ (wtnwm)). The Septuagint reads ‘my faith’ (pi/stew&j mou). 58. On the use of Hab. 2.4 in Paul’s writings, see Joseph Fitzmyer, ‘Hab 2:3-4 and the New Testament’, in To Advance the Gospel: New Testament Studies (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2nd edn, 1998), pp. 236–46; Maureen W. Yeung, Faith in Paul and Jesus (WUNT, 2.147: Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002), pp. 196–225. 59. A. Dupont-Sommer, ‘Le Commentaire d’Habacuc découvert près de la Mer Morte: Traduction and Notes’, RHR 137 (1950), pp. 129–71 (162). Cited and translated in Matthew Black, The Dead Sea Scrolls and Christian Doctrine (Ethel M. Wood Lecture; London: Athlone Press, 1966), p. 8. The same basic understanding is found in DupontSommer’s later commentary on the scrolls: The Essene Writings from Qumran (trans. G. Vermes: Cleveland: Meridian, 1962), p. 263 n. 4: ‘it is faith in him that saves’. 60. See, e.g., James A. Sanders, ‘Habakkuk in Qumran, Paul, and the Old Testament’, JR 39 (1959), pp. 232–44 (233); Helmer Ringgren, The Faith of Qumran: Theology of the Dead Sea Scrolls (New York: Crossroad, 1995; Repr. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1963), pp. 185–6. See the criticism of this approach in Fitzmyer, ‘Hab 2:3-4’, p. 256 n. 16. 61. See Kurt Schubert, ‘Die jüdischen und judenchristlichen Sekten im Lichte des Handschristenfundes von “En Fescha”’, ZKTh 74 (1952), pp. 1–62 (22). See also, idem, The Dead Sea Community: Its Origins and Teachings (trans. J. W. Doberstein; Westport, CN: Greenwood, 1959), pp. 155–6); Robert H. Eisenman, James the Just in the Habakkuk Pesher (Leiden: Brill, 1986), p. 40. 62. See Black, Dead Sea Scrolls, p. 9; J. Carmignac, Les Textes de Qumran, Volume 2 (eds J. Carmignac, É. Cothenet and H. Lignée; Paris: Letouzey et Ané, 1963), p. 107 n. 4. Brownlee, Midrash Pesher, p. 128, suggests translating ‘Teacher of Right’ in order to express clearly that ‘faith in him is not due to his personal righteousness, but to the rightness of his teaching’.

208

This World and the World to Come

two of Pesher Habakkuk similarly three times condemns them for their lack of ‘belief’ (Nm)–hiph‘il); twice for failing to believe in the Teacher’s ability to interpret the word of God (1QpHab 2.2, 6) and once, more generally, for not believing in the ‘covenant of God’ (1QpHab 2.4). 1QpHab 8.1-3 therefore contrasts those who do not ‘believe’ in the Teacher’s interpretation of the law (‘those doomed to judgment’) and those who recognize the Teacher’s abilities and thus ‘obey the law’. Following the larger model of Pesher Habakkuk, the latter are secure in the covenant and thus live.63 For the former, Pesher Habakkuk interprets Hab. 2.4a – ‘See how bloated, not smooth [his soul is!]’ – as assuring that ‘their sins will be doubled against them [and they will] n[ot] find favour when they come to judgment’ (1QpHab 7.14-16). The relatively welcoming attitude toward outsiders in Pesher Micah in contrast to Pesher Habakkuk may stem from their composition at distinct points in sectarian history. As noted above, Pesher Micah is one of the few Pesharim that seem to predate the first century bce, and thus its composition and outlook is closer to that of 4QMiqs. at Ma‘as´e Ha-Torah. The more exclusivist stance of Pesher Habakkuk and the other Pesharim finds fuller expression in the Rule of the Community, which assumes that one can ‘return to the law of Moses’, but its dualistic and predestinarian division of humanity into Sons of Light and Sons of Darkness leaves little ability for the latter to gain access to the all-important knowledge of the law.64 3.3. The eschatological reward of the righteous The Pesharim are united in their view that the end of the days will witness the complete annihilation of the wicked, both non-sectarian Jews and foreigners. The righteous – that is, the sectarian community – will emerge unscathed in the eschatological upheaval. Thus, the ultimate eschatological reward of the righteous is their very survival at the end of days. Yet, amidst the preoccupation with the eschatological destruction of the wicked, the Pesharim are surprisingly silent regarding what will happen after the dust settles. As discussed above, Pesher Isaiah A (4Q161) recounts the emergence of the sectarian community as a ‘truthful plan[ting in the] land’. The fragmentary nature of this passage makes it unclear if further eschatological rewards for the righteous remnant are lost in the lacuna. While the emphasis 63. The potential role of suffering (lm() in this passage is not readily apparent. The Hebrew word has a range of possible meanings, including ‘suffering’, but also ‘toil’ or ‘labour’ (see Brownlee, Midrash Pesher, p. 127). It may merely refer to the persecution that the sectarians endured for their loyalty to the Teacher (so Brownlee, Midrash Pesher, p. 130). Some have understood the suffering as fulfilling an atoning function (see Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 304–5). Note the later rabbinic dictum of ‘toiling (lm() in the Torah’ (m. Abot 4.10). 64. See especially 1QS 5. See Seifrid, Justification, pp. 89–93, for further discussion of the competing themes of election and voluntary admission in the Rule of the Community. See also Bockmuehl, ‘1QS and Salvation’, esp. pp. 399–402 (pp. 247–50).



Survival at the End of Days

209

on the establishment of the community ‘in the] land’ may be symbolic, other Pesharim give voice to biblical presentations of restoration in the land as eschatological reward. Thus, in Pesher on Psalmsa, Ps. 37.11 – ‘Then the meek will inherit the earth and enjoy all the abundance that peace brings’ – is interpreted to refer to the ‘poor ones’ who are delivered from the ‘snares of Belial’ and ‘enjoy all the […] of the earth and grow fat on every human [luxury]’ (4Q171 1-10 ii 8-11). The ‘poor ones’ are likewise the subject of the interpretation of Ps. 37.22: ‘for those whom God blesses will inherit the earth, but those whom He curses will be exterminated’. In contrast to the wicked who are destroyed, the lemma is understood to refer to the ‘poor ones [who will ge]t the possessions of all […,] who will inherit the lofty mount of Is[rael and] enjoy His holy mount’ (4Q171 1-10 iii 10-11).65 The end of Pesher Isaiah A describes how the messianic Branch of David will rule over all the nations of the world (4Q161 8-10 17). The royal messiah, however, will be guided by the priestly authorities (ll. 21-24).66 The twofold eschatological rule of a royal messiah alongside priestly authority echoes the sectarian vision of two messiahs (1QS 9.11; CD 12.23–13.1). More significantly, the dominance of the priestly authority over the royal messiah can likewise be detected in other sectarian eschatological texts such as the Rule of the Congregation (1QSa), Florilegium (4Q174), and Sefer haMilh. amah (4Q285). The fragmentary nature of Pesher Isaiah A, however, precludes learning any more about its vision of the post-war eschatological age. Other sectarian texts speak of the post-war eschatological era as a time of heightened knowledge for the remaining righteous. The War Scroll describes the jubilation that will follow the annihilation of the wicked and the constitution of the righteous under the direction of the archangel Michael (1QM 17.4-11). Specifically, ‘righteousness shall rejoice on high, and all the children of His truth shall rejoice in eternal knowledge’ (1QM 7.8). Similarly, following the final defeat of the forces of darkness in the Rule of the Community, God ‘shall give the upright insight into the knowledge of the Most High and the wisdom of the angels, making wise those following the perfect way’ (1QS 4.22). In both texts, moreover, the covenant itself is the reward for righteousness and its proper observance is closely tied to the special knowledge. Thus, in the War Scroll, God will ‘joyfully light up the covenant of Israel’ (1QM 17.7) and in the Rule of the Community, God has chosen the upright wise ones ‘for an eternal covenant’ (1QS 4.22). A fragmentary passage in Pesher Habakkuk hints at a similar orientation. In Pesher Habakkuk, following the description of the violent destruction of the 65. On this theme in the Pesharim and the Dead Sea Scrolls, see Lawrence H. Schiffman, ‘The Concept of Restoration in the Dead Sea Scrolls’, in Restoration: Old Testament, Jewish, & Christian Perspectives (ed. J. M. Scott; JSJSup, 72; Leiden: Brill, 2001), pp. 203–21. 66. See further, Jassen, ‘Re-reading Pesher Isaiah A’, pp. 76–7. Note that Pesher Isaiah A does not identify the priestly authority as messianic. Indeed, the text has in mind a singular royal messiah under the direction of a group of priests.

210

This World and the World to Come

wicked, Hab. 2.14 – ‘The earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord’s glory as waters cover the sea’ – is understood to allude to ‘true knowledge (that) will be revealed to them’ (1QpHab 11.1). A lacuna, however, renders the broader interpretation of the lemma unclear.67 4. Conclusion Scholars have long noted the difficulty of creating a coherent picture of the religious outlook of the Dead Sea Scrolls or even just the sectarian community.68 The foregoing treatment of soteriology in the Pesharim reinforces the complexity and diversity that inhere in these texts and the ancient Jews who created and were guided by them. At the same time, several unifying factors can be detected in the Pesharim, which can be profitably analysed in the context of the broader corpus of sectarian literature. In this sense, the treatment of the identity of the true Israel and its eschatological consequences and the intersection of covenantal obligations and eschatological salvation in the Pesharim and related texts offers insight into the sectarian community’s emerging beliefs regarding eschatological salvation. These texts outline an eschatological setting in which the sectarian community imagines itself as the only upholders of Israel’s covenantal obligations. As the true remnant of Israel, the community is immune to the divine wrath that encapsulates all the ‘violators of the covenant’ and foreigners at the end of days. In turn, the surviving remnant enjoys all the eschatological rewards that follow.

67. Note as well the presence of the lemma from Isa. 11.2 – ‘And] on him [will re-] st the sp[irit of] [Yahweh, a spirit of] wisdom and discernment, a spirit of coun[sel and might,] a spirit of knowle[dge] [and fear of Yahweh’ – in Pesher Isaiah A (4Q161 8-10 1113). The pesher unit tied to this lemma, however, is not preserved. 68. See Alex P. Jassen, ‘Religion in the Dead Sea Scrolls’, Religion Compass 1 (2007), pp. 1–25.

Chapter 13

Salvation through Emulation: Facets of Jubilean Soteriology at Qumran Ian Werrett 1. Introduction One of the most interesting theological features in the documents from Qumran is an extreme form of dualism that divides the entirety of creation into two camps or opposing forces: the Sons of Light and the Sons of Darkness (1QS 3.13–4.14; 1QM 1.1-7). According to this bifurcated worldview, those who endeavour to understand God’s deeds and engage in activities that are pleasing to Him are counted among the Sons of Light (1QS 3.20a). The wicked, by contrast, are ruled by the K#wx K)lm, or ‘angel of darkness’, who manipulates and cajoles humans into turning their backs on God and walking along a sinful path of disobedience (1QS 3.20b-23a). Exemplars of these two camps are nearly ubiquitous in the sectarian writings from Qumran and the authors of these documents frequently used recognizable archetypes as a way to encourage their readers to adopt certain behaviours and avoid others. Where the sons of Noah and the Nephilim were seen as the poster children for disobedience and sinful activity (CD 2.17b-19; 3.1; cf., Genesis 6; 1 Enoch 1–36; Jub. 11.2), Abraham was held up as a paragon of faith and patience (CD 3.2-3a; cf., Genesis 22; Jub. 17.15-18). Although he had some competition from the likes of Enoch and Moses, Abraham’s unshakeable faith and his elevated status as a ‘friend of God’ (cf. Isa. 41.8; 2 Chron. 20.7) meant that he was frequently pressed into service by the Qumran community and other Second Temple theologians to function as the obedient Jew par excellence. The quintessential story of Abraham’s unflappable faith is the Akedah or Binding of Isaac (Genesis 22). In the biblical version of this tale, Abraham, the surprisingly spry centenarian, is asked by God to sacrifice Isaac, his wife’s only son, as a burnt offering on the summit of a mountain in the land of Moriah, a place that would, according to tradition, become the very spot where the Jewish temple would be erected (cf. 2 Chron. 3.1). Many questions are left unanswered by the account of this story in Genesis – a fact that was not lost on the Jews of the Second Temple period. In particular, why

212

This World and the World to Come

would God ask an aged Abraham to sacrifice his only legitimate son when the Lord had already agreed to make Abraham’s offspring as numerous as the stars in the sky (Gen. 15.1-6)? Moreover, if God were omniscient, why would He need to test Abraham’s resolve by asking him to do something that God already knows he will do? These and other questions regarding the ambiguity of Scripture fired the imagination of Jewish theologians during the Second Temple period and it inspired some scribes to address these ambiguities by engaging in a variety of exegetical and interpretive practices, such as gap-filling, homogenization, conflation, and the creation of a type of literature that modern scholars refer to as ‘rewritten Scripture’ or ‘rewritten Bible’.1 This explosion of scribal activity and dialogue with the material that would eventually become the Hebrew Bible resulted in the creation of numerous pseudepigraphic and apocryphal compositions that, although considered by some to be divinely inspired and authoritative, failed to be included in the canon of the Hebrew Scriptures at the end of the first century ce. Among this collection of literature are such works as Jubilees, 1 Enoch, and the Temple Scroll, to name but a few. And as we will see below, the book of Jubilees appears to have had a particularly strong influence on the members of the Qumran community, their dualistic worldview, and their salvific aspirations. It goes without saying that it is potentially hazardous to use a word like ‘salvation’ when discussing the theology of Jubilees, the Qumran community, and the contents of the Dead Sea Scrolls. My fear in using this word is that the evidence discussed below will be read in a Christian context without letting Jubilees and the documents from Qumran speak with their own voices. For example, although the members of the Qumran community were contemporaries of the early Christian community and experienced many of the same religious, socio-economic, and political pressures from their foreign rulers and fellow Jews, the contents of the Dead Sea Scrolls reveal a vastly different Jewish community that describes an exclusive and exacting interpretation of Judaism. In contrast to Paul, who argues that humanity cannot be justified through ‘works of the law’ but has been redeemed by God’s grace through the redemptive acts of Jesus Christ (Gal. 2.16; Rom. 3.19-26), the Dead Sea Scrolls repeatedly proclaim that ‘works of the law’ are the key to maintaining an appropriate relationship with God and ensuring His covenantal blessings (1QS 6.18-19a; 4Q265 4 ii 3-7a; 4Q394 3-7 i 4-5a; 4Q398 14–17 ii 2b-5).2 From the Qumran perspective, God had seen fit 1. For discussions on these terms, see Sidnie White Crawford, Rewriting Scripture in Second Temple Times (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), pp. 1–15; Daniel K. Falk, The Parabiblical Texts: Strategies for Extending the Scriptures among the Dead Sea Scrolls (New York: T&T Clark, 2007), pp. 1–25; Michael Segal, The Book of Jubilees: Rewritten Bible, Redaction, Ideology, and Theology (JSJSup, 77; Leiden: Brill, 2007). 2. See Martin G. Abegg Jr, ‘Paul and James on the Law in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls’, in Christian Beginnings and the Dead Sea Scrolls (eds J. J. Collins and C. A. Evans; Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2006), pp. 63–74; idem, ‘4QMMT, Paul, and the “Works of the Law”’, in The Bible at Qumran: Text, Shape, and Interpretation (eds P. W. Flint and



Salvation through Emulation

213

to bestow the community’s leaders with the ability to correctly interpret the Law and its meanings (1QpMic frg. 8–10 6-9; 1QpHab 2.1-10a; 7.45; CD 4.4b-10; CD-B 20.6-8). Although these interpretations functioned as boundary markers between the community and other Jews, the halakha of Qumran also had an eschatological component: its observance guaranteed a community member’s status as a Son of Light and their deliverance from the forces of evil at the end of days (1QM). This is not to say, however, that the grace of God failed to play a role in the community’s soteriological aspirations. On the contrary, the members of the Qumran community were keenly aware of their own fallibility and dependence upon God’s mercy for all aspects of their relationship with Him (1QS 2.25b–3.9a; 5.1-6; 11.10b15; 1QHa 8.26-30; 12.30-34a). Salvation at Qumran, therefore, was a multi-staged process that started and ended with God’s grace. The intermediate stages involved: (1) the repentance of sins; (2) entrance into the covenant/Qumran community; and (3) diligence in upholding the community’s halakhic, ethical, and organizational principles. Far from being a ‘works = salvation’ approach, Qumran’s soteriology has much in common with E. P. Sanders’ model of ‘covenantal nomism’.3 Where Qumran diverges from this model, however, is on its exclusive stance regarding the proper interpretation of the Law and, more importantly, on the eschatological ramifications of ‘being in the covenant and … remaining in the covenant’4 – otherworldly concerns that are generally understood as being peripheral to the covenantal nomism of Judaism and the rabbinic tradition. In the following discussion I will attempt to show how the book of Jubilees informed and inspired the theologians of the Qumran community by discussing Jubilees’ status as an authoritative composition at Qumran. After establishing Jubilees’ authoritative status, I will then attempt to show how the Qumran community used the refined images of the patriarchs in Jubilees as archetypal models for emulation and salvation. 2. The Qumran community and the authority of Jubilees Prior to its discovery in the caves surrounding Khirbet Qumran in the late 1940s, the book of Jubilees was somewhat of an enigma. Although academics had been aware of the book’s existence since the early part of the eighteenth J. C. VanderKam; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), pp. 203–16; idem, ‘4QMMT C 27, 31 and “Works Righteousness”’, DSD 6/2 (1999), pp. 139–47; Joseph A. Fitzmyer, ‘Paul and the Dead Sea Scrolls’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls After Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (eds P. W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; 2 vols; Leiden: Brill, 1998), pp. 2.599– 621; N. T. Wright, ‘Paul and Qumran’, BRev 14/5 (1998), pp. 18–54; James D. G. Dunn, ‘4QMMT and Galatians’, NTS 43 (1997), pp. 147–53. 3. E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1977), p. 75. 4. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 75.

214

This World and the World to Come

century, scholarship on this text did not begin in earnest until the end of the nineteenth century when copies of the book were located in Ethiopia and brought to the attention of the European academy by the German scholar Heinrich Ewald.5 Since the end of the nineteenth century, scholars have identified nearly 30 copies of the book in Ethiopic and a partial copy in Latin dating to the fifth or sixth century ce.6 Based upon the extant textual evidence for Jubilees, scholars had long suspected that the book was originally composed in Hebrew, but these suspicions would not be confirmed until the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls and the recovery of 13 to 16 copies of the book from the caves of Qumran.7 Of these manuscripts, which were all written in Hebrew, 4QJuba is the oldest, having been copied sometime between 125 and 100 bce.8 Despite its age, however, there is no evidence to suggest that 4QJuba is an autograph of Jubilees or that the Qumran community was responsible for the book’s authorship. Rather, it is the general consensus of the scholarly community that the book of Jubilees was originally composed sometime between 170 and 150 bce (i.e., during or shortly after the Hellenistic reforms in Jerusalem and the end of the Maccabean revolt), some 50 to 70 years before the establishment of the Qumran community at the beginning of the first century bce.9 The rationale for dating Jubilees to this period of time rests, in part, upon the palaeographic dating of 4QJuba, which suggests a terminus post quem that must be earlier than 125 to 100 bce (i.e., prior to the oldest copy of Jubilees at Qumran), and upon the book’s aggressive stance against intermarrying with Gentiles (Jub. 20.4; 22.20-22; 25.5-10; 27.8-10; 30.7-16), which suggests a terminus ante quem that falls shortly after the Hellenistic reforms of 175 bce. According to the witness of Jubilees, the book is set during Moses’ 40day sojourn on Mt Sinai and it claims to be an account of the events from 5. James C. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees (Sheffield; Sheffield Academic Press, 2001), pp. 11–21; idem, ‘The Manuscript Tradition of Jubilees’, in Enoch and the Mosaic Torah: The Evidence of Jubilees (eds G. Boccaccini and F. Ibba; Grand Rapids, MN; Eerdmans, 2009), pp. 3–21; White Crawford, Rewriting Scripture, pp. 60–2. 6. VanderKam, ‘The Manuscript Tradition of Jubilees’, pp. 17–21. 7. Although the archaeological evidence would seem to suggest that we have recovered 15 copies of the book of Jubilees from Qumran (i.e., 1QJuba, 1QJubb, 2QJuba, 2QJubb, 3QJub, 4QJuba-i, and 11QJub), there is some question as to whether or not 1QJuba and 1QJubb are from the same manuscript. It is also unclear if the fragments from Cave 3 are from multiple copies and if 4QJubb is a copy of Jubilees or a work that is somehow related to it. 8. James C. VanderKam and Józef T. Milik, ‘Jubilees’, in Qumran Cave 4. VIII: Parabiblical Texts, Part 1 (eds H. Attridge, T. Elgvin, et al.; DJD, 13; Oxford: Clarendon, 1994), p. 2. 9. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees, pp. 17–21; White Crawford, Rewriting Scripture, pp. 61–2; Jodi Magness, ‘Qumran Archaeology: Past Perspectives and Future Prospects’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls After Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (eds P. W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; 2 vols; Leiden: Brill, 1998), pp. 1.47–77 (65); idem, The Archaeology of Qumran and the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), pp. 64–5.



Salvation through Emulation

215

the creation of the world to the Exodus from Egypt, as dictated to Moses by an angel of God’s presence (Jub. 1.1–2.1; cf. Genesis 1–Exodus 14). Responding to the Lord’s call to ‘write all these words which I will tell you on this mountain’ (Jub. 1.26),10 Moses is credited as being both the recipient of God’s revelation and the pseudepigraphic author of the book – literary devices that were used by the second century author of Jubilees to establish the text’s authority and importance. Interestingly, this is the oldest known reference in the corpus of Jewish literature to the Mosaic authorship of the Torah or portions thereof.11 Despite arguments to the contrary, the case for the book of Jubilees having authoritative status at Qumran is quite pronounced.12 Beyond the book’s internal claims of authority, there are at least five additional reasons to understand this book as having been regarded by the Qumran community as an authoritative composition.13 First, in comparison to the 15 or so copies of Jubilees that were recovered from the caves near the site of Qumran, only Psalms (36 copies), Deuteronomy (30), Isaiah (21), Genesis (20), and Exodus (17) have a greater frequency of attestation.14 Although a large number of copies is not, in and of itself, a compelling reason to see Jubilees as an authoritative text, it is nevertheless apparent that the book was of great interest to the Qumran community and that it was deemed important enough to be retained in multiple copies. A second reason to see Jubilees as having an elevated status among the members of the Qumran community concerns the fact that copies of the book were recovered from 5 of the 11 manuscript caves surrounding the site of Qumran. By contrast, the Temple Scroll, which also purports to be a divinely revealed document with Mosaic origins (11Q19 44.5), was recovered in only one cave and has been positively identified in a mere two instances: a largely 10. All English translations of the book of Jubilees are from James C. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees: A Critical Text (2 vols, CSCO, 510–11; Scriptores Aethiopici, 87–88; Leuven: Peeters, 1989). 11. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees, pp. 23–4. 12. For discussions on the authoritative status of Jubilees, see Hindy Najman, ‘Reconsidering Jubilees: Prophecy and Exemplarity’, in Enoch and the Mosaic Torah: The Evidence of Jubilees (eds G. Boccaccini and G. Ibba; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), pp. 229–43; Aharon Shemesh, ‘4Q265 and the Authoritative Status of Jubilees at Qumran’, in Enoch and the Mosaic Torah: The Evidence of Jubilees (eds G. Boccaccini and G. Ibba; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), pp. 247–60; White Crawford, Rewriting Scripture, pp. 60–1; see also footnote 29. 13. Although I disagree with VanderKam and Flint’s somewhat indiscriminate use the words ‘authoritative’ and ‘scriptural’, they have nevertheless compiled a helpful list of criteria for determining the authoritative status of ancient documents. These characteristics include: appeals to prophecy; claims of divine authority; the quantity of manuscripts preserved; books quoted or alluded to as authorities; and dependence on earlier books. For the complete list, see James C. VanderKam and Peter W. Flint, The Meaning of the Dead Sea Scrolls: Their Significance for Understanding the Bible, Judaism, Jesus, and Christianity (New York: HarperCollins, 2002), pp. 172–80; See also footnote 29. 14. VanderKam and Flint, The Meaning of the Dead Sea Scrolls, p. 150.

216

This World and the World to Come

intact copy (11Q19) and one that is fragmentary (11Q20).15 Interestingly, the relatively few number of copies of the Temple Scroll, and its rather poor distribution among the caves, has not affected the scholarly community’s understanding of the text as being a highly influential and authoritative document at Qumran.16 The three remaining arguments pointing to the authoritative status of Jubilees at Qumran focus on those instances where the book has had an identifiable influence on the composition of other documents. Some of the most compelling examples of this activity can be seen in 4Q228 and 4Q384, which contain citation formulas and overt references to Jubilees,17 and the Damascus Document, which exhibits an explicit citation of the book’s title: Therefore, one will impose upon self to return to the law of Moses, for in it all is defined. And the exact interpretation of their ages about the blindness of Israel in all these matters, behold, it is defined in . And on the day on which one has imposed upon himself to return to the law of Moses, the angel Mastemah will turn aside from following him, should he keep his words. (CD 16.1-5)18

Not only does the Damascus Document quote the title of Jubilees (i.e., ‘The Book of the division of the periods according to their jubilees and their 15. See Émile Puech, Qumran Grotte 4 XVIII: Textes Hebreux (4Q521-4Q528, 4Q576-4Q579) (DJD, XXV; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998), pp. 85–114; Sidnie White Crawford, The Temple Scroll and Related Texts (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000), p. 14. 16. Here I have in mind the work of Elisha Qimron and Hannah Harrington, who have respectively used the Temple Scroll to reconstruct large portions of the fragmentary work known as 4QMMT and to outline the purity system that may have been observed at Qumran. For discussions of these hypotheses, see Ian Werrett, Ritual Purity and the Dead Sea Scrolls (STDJ, 72; Leiden: Brill, 2007), pp. 169–209; idem, ‘The Reconstruction of 4QMMT: A Methodological Critique’, in Northern Lights on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Proceedings of the Nordic Qumran Network 2003–2006 (eds A. K. Petersen, et al.; STDJ, 80; Leiden: Brill, 2009), pp. 205–16. 17. Where 4Q384 does not appear to contain any of the telltale scribal features of the Qumran community, such as the use of technical terms like dxy, references to the covenant renewal ceremony, or allusions to messianic figures, 4Q228 does refer to an angel (4Q228 1 i 8) and its author appears to have embraced a dualistic worldview (4Q228 1 i 5-8), which are two of the hallmarks of Qumran sectarianism. Although it is difficult to say with absolute certainty whether or not the Qumran community was responsible for the authorship of 4Q228 and 4Q384, these texts nevertheless testify to the elevated status of Jubilees in the Dead Sea Scrolls. For example, in 4Q228 1 i 9b-10a the author emphasizes the authority of Jubilees through the use of a standardized citation formula (bwtk Nk yk) and a partially reconstructed reference to the title of the book: ‘For thus is it written in the Divisions of [the Times (?) …]’. Similarly, the poorly preserved 4Q384 contains a citation formula (bwtk r#)k – 4Q384 8 2) and a heavily reconstructed reference to Jubilees: ‘[… in the book of the Di]visions of Ti[mes …]’ (4Q384 9 2). 18. All English translations of the Dead Sea Scrolls are from Florentino García Martínez and Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition (2 vols; Leiden: Brill, 1997).



Salvation through Emulation

217

weeks’ – Jub. 1.4, 26; 50.13),19 but it also describes the book as occupying a secondary role to that of the ‘law of Moses’, which is clearly an allusion to the Pentateuch. This latter point is significant in that the book of Jubilees makes a similar claim regarding its own status vis-à-vis the Torah or, as it is known in Jubilees, the ‘book of the first law’ (Jub. 6.22).20 Additionally, the references in the Damascus Document to the ‘blindness of Israel’ and the hm+#mx K)lm, or ‘angel Mastemah’, who will refrain from tormenting any man who follows the law and keeps God’s words (CD 16.4b-5), would appear to parallel the eschatological material in Jubilees 23, which claims that, after a period of disobedience, a faithful remnant will ‘return to the right way’ and experience a time of peace when there will be ‘neither a satan nor any evil one who will destroy’ (Jub. 23.26-29).21 The presence of a 364-day calendar in the documents from Qumran is yet another argument in support of Jubilees’ authoritative status. As many scholars have noted, the authors of 4Q252, 4Q394 1-2, 11QPsalmsa, and the Temple Scroll appear to have embraced a 364-day solar calendar that, unlike 1 Enoch, seemingly fails to integrate the phases of the moon into its yearly calculations (Jub. 6.35-38).22 ‘There has been’, notes VanderKam, ‘an energetic and inconclusive debate about whether the 364-day calendar of Jubilees, which is also attested in 1 Enoch 72–82 and the Qumran texts, was used by others … Whatever its prehistory and influence, it is clear that the 364-day calendar was a point at issue between the Qumran community and the larger Jewish community because it affected the dates for all the festivals.’23 Although I find myself in agreement with VanderKam’s statement regarding the importance of the 364-day calendar, it must also be said that the evidence for Jubilees’ functioning as the sole authoritative calendrical model

19. In spite of Devorah Dimant’s arguments to the contrary, I find myself in agreement with VanderKam who has argued that the oldest Hebrew reference to Jubilees is found in CD 16:3-4. VanderKam, ‘The Manuscript Tradition of Jubilees’, p. 4; Devorah Dimant, ‘Two “Scientific” Fictions: The So-called Book of Noah and the Alleged Quotation of Jubilees in CD 16:3-4’, in Studies in the Hebrew Bible, Qumran, and the Septuagint Presented the Eugene Ulrich (eds P. W. Flint, E. Tov, and J. C. VanderKam, VTSup, 101; Leiden: Brill, 2006), pp. 242–8. 20. Najman, ‘Reconsidering Jubilees: Prophecy and Exemplarity’, p. 231. 21. The author of the Damascus Document also seems to have been influenced by Jub. 23.11-12, which foretells of a time prior to the judgement of God when humans will age quickly and be robbed of their knowledge. Similarly, CD 10.7b-10a states: ‘And no-one over sixty years should hold the office of judging the congregation, for on account of man’s unfaithfulness his days were shortened, and because of God’s wrath against the inhabitants of the earth, he ordered their knowledge before they completed their days’. For more on the authority of Jubilees at Qumran, see Peter W. Flint, ‘“Apocrypha”, Other Previously-Known Writings, and “Pseudepigrapha” in the Dead Sea Scrolls’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls after Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (eds P. W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 2.62–6, esp. p. 64. 22. James C. VanderKam, Calendars in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Measuring Time (London: Routledge, 1998), pp. 63–5. 23. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees, pp. 99–100.

218

This World and the World to Come

at Qumran is severely undermined by a large number of documents that emulate 1 Enoch in combining the 364-day solar calendar and 354-day lunar calendar into a luni-solar arrangement (cf., 4Q208; 4Q209; 4Q317; 4Q320; 4Q321). This point takes on even greater significance when seen through the lens of Jubilees, which strenuously champions the solar model and explicitly condemns those who ‘carefully observe the moon with lunar observations because it is corrupt (with respect to) the seasons and is early from year to year by ten days’ (Jub. 6.36). If, as Jonathan Ben-Dov has observed, ‘the moon was accepted as a standard object for speculation in sectarian documents’, then the Second Temple debate over the proper calendar was far more complex than earlier believed and it places the exclusive solar reckonings of Jubilees in somewhat of an isolated position.24 Despite this apparent isolation, however, the overwhelming presence of the 364-day calendar in the Dead Sea Scrolls indicates that the authors of Jubilees, 1 Enoch, and the texts from Qumran were rooted in same calendrical tradition.25 An authorial dependence upon the witness of earlier writings is the final argument in favour of seeing Jubilees as an authoritative composition at Qumran. In a similar manner to that of the book of Jubilees, which is dependent upon the witness of Genesis and Exodus for its composition, the authors of 4QPseudoJubileesa-c (4Q225-227) appear to have been heavily influenced by the content and narratives of Jubilees. As VanderKam and Milik have noted, ‘the [PseudoJubilees] texts employ language that is familiar from and to some extent characteristic of Jubilees, but the documents themselves are not actual copies of Jubilees’.26 As proof of this statement, one need look no further than 4Q225, which is highly selective about the material it borrows from Jubilees and even more particular about the order in which that material is presented. In this fragmentary text, the author aggressively condenses the narratives of Jubilees, Genesis and Exodus by placing God’s promise to provide Abra(ha)m with descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky (4Q225 2 i 5-8a; Jub. 14.1-6; Gen. 15.1-6) and Isaac’s birth (4Q225 2 i 8b-9a; Jub. 16.12-14; Gen. 21.1-5) side by side with the Akedah (4Q225 2 i 9b–2 ii 10a; Jub. 17.15-18; Genesis 22), the Exodus from Egypt (4Q225 2 ii 13-14; 1 1-5; Jubilees 48; Exodus 13–14) and the Passover (4Q225 1 6-10; Jubilees 49; Exodus 12).27 More importantly, the presence of Prince 24. Jonathan Ben-Dov, ‘Tradition and Innovation in the Calendar of Jubilees’, in Enoch and the Mosaic Torah: The Evidence of Jubilees (eds G. Boccaccini and G. Ibba; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), pp. 288–93; see also, Stephen J. Pfann, ‘A Reassessment of Qumran’s Calendars’, Hen 31/1 (2009), pp. 104–9; VanderKam, Calendars in the Dead Sea Scrolls, pp. 74, 110–16; Uwe Glessmer, ‘Calendars in the Qumran Scrolls’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls after Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (eds P. W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 2.213–78 (235–8, 268–75). 25. VanderKam, Calendars in the Dead Sea Scrolls, p. 111. 26. James C. VanderKam and Józef T. Milik, ‘Jubilees’, in Qumran Cave 4. VIII: Parabiblical Texts, Part 1 (eds H. Attridge, T. Elgvin, et al.; DJD, 13; Oxford: Clarendon, 1994), p. 142. 27. Moshe Bernstein, ‘Pentateuchal Interpretation at Qumran’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls after Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (eds P. W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam;



Salvation through Emulation

219

Mastemah in 4Q225, whose adversarial activities are heavily reminiscent of Satan’s role in the book of Job, belies a strong dependence upon Jubilees, which likewise incorporates Mastemah into its retelling of the Akedah and Exodus narratives. As Kugler has observed: Because Jubilees links the binding of Isaac with the Passover by placing the former event on the legally-mandated day for the Passover meal (Jub 15:15; 18:18) and has Prince Mastemah appear in both incidents (Jub 17:15-18; 18:9, 11; 48:9, 12, 15), recipients of 4Q225 would have been prepared for the juxtaposition of the two episodes and the appearance of Prince Mastemah in each of them (2 i 9-10; 2 ii 7, 13-14).28

In short, 4Q225’s rearrangement of the patriarchal narratives, its insertion of Prince Mastemah into the Akedah and Exodus accounts, and its economical repackaging of these tales in language that is reminiscent of Jubilees indicate that 4Q225’s intended audience was expected to come to this text with a working knowledge and familiarity with Jubilees and the motifs contained therein. Taken altogether, these factors indicate that the book of Jubilees had a high level of authority for both the authors of the PseudoJubilees texts and their intended audiences. In contrast to Hindy Najman, who claims that, ‘we cannot say for sure that it [i.e., Jubilees] was authoritative for any second temple community’, the evidence presented above would seem to suggest otherwise.29 From the large number of copies of Jubilees recovered from Qumran to its internal claims of divine revelation/Mosaic authorship and from the book’s wide distribution among the caves to its undeniable influence on subsequent compositions, the rather extensive evidence outlined above would seem to 2 vols; Leiden: Brill, 1998), pp. 1.128–59 (137); Robert A. Kugler, ‘Hearing 4Q225: A Case Study in Reconstructing the Religious Imagination of the Qumran Community’, DSD 10/1 (2003), pp. 81–103 (89). For an important discussion on the rearrangement 4Q225, fragments 1 and 2, see Robert A. Kugler and James C. VanderKam, ‘A Note on 4Q225 (4QPseudo-Jubilees a)’, RevQ 20 (2001), pp. 133–9. 28. Kugler, ‘Hearing 4Q225’, p. 97. 29. In fairness to Najman, her comments regarding the authority of Jubilees are directed at those scholars who have used the terms ‘authoritative’, ‘Scripture’ and ‘rewritten Bible’ in an imprecise and indiscriminate manner. Although Najman is right when she states that it is anachronistic and potentially misleading to apply the labels ‘rewritten Bible’ or ‘rewritten Scripture’ to a work like Jubilees, I would argue that it is equally inappropriate to use the word ‘authoritative’ as a synonym for ‘Scripture’ and ‘scriptural’. While the words ‘Scripture’ and ‘scriptural’ are primarily used to describe a finite collection of literature that has been explicitly recognized by a religious community as having authoritative status for its members, a document need not be canonized or labelled as ‘Scripture’ for it to be considered authoritative. Deeds, legal documents, letters, and organizational texts, such as the Community Rule and the Damascus Document, can rightly be called ‘authoritative’ in that they have the power to influence the beliefs, intellectual life, and conduct of those who read, copy, and collect them. It is in this more limited sense that I am using the word ‘authoritative’ with regard to the status of Jubilees at Qumran. Najman, ‘Reconsidering Jubilees: Prophecy and Exemplarity’, p. 232.

220

This World and the World to Come

argue in favour of Jubilees having had authoritative status for the members of the Qumran community. Although I am unwilling to go as far as Aharon Shemesh, who claims, somewhat anachronistically, that Jubilees enjoyed ‘canonical status in Qumran’,30 it is nevertheless apparent that this document exerted a tremendous amount of influence over the individuals who were responsible for authoring, copying, and collecting the Dead Sea Scrolls. 3. Jubilean patriarchs: models for emulation and salvation Having established the authoritative status of the book of Jubilees for the Qumran community, I will now attempt to show how the Qumran community used the refined images of the patriarchs in the book of Jubilees as models for emulation and salvation. As noted above, the correct interpretation and implementation of the Law is, according to the Qumran community, the fundamental way to maintain the covenantal relationship with God and ensure His divine mercy and deliverance from the forces of evil at the end of days. The reward for those who are counted among the ‘sons of truth’ (i.e., the members of the Qumran community) is ‘long life, fruitful offspring with all everlasting blessings, eternal enjoyment with endless life, and a crown of glory’ (1QS 4.6b-8; cf. 5.1-6a). By contrast, those who remain outside of the community are predestined to endure ‘eternal damnation by the scorching wrath of the God of revenges, for permanent terror and shame without end’ (1QS 4.12b-13a). Total annihilation and the permanent loss of a remnant awaits those who continue to ‘walk along the path of wickedness’ (1QS 5.10b-13a), whereas countless generations, eternal blessings, and unending peace are promised to those who repent their sins, enter the ranks of the Qumran community, and remain faithful to the stipulations of the covenant, as properly interpreted by the community’s leadership (1QS 2.25b-3.9a; 4.6b-8; 5.1-6; 1QpMic frg. 8-10 6-9; 1QpHab 2.1-10a; 7.4-5). In the remainder of this discussion I will focus on the person of Abraham in Jubilees and on his appearance in writings of the Qumran community. By limiting my discussion to one patriarch and showing how the authors of the texts in question may have expected their intended audiences to interpret their respective compositions, I hope to show how Abraham’s model of faithfulness and piety in the book of Jubilees directly influenced the Qumran community and the author of the Damascus Document, who championed the Jubilean image of the patriarch as the ideal model of behaviour for emulation and salvation.

30. Shemesh, ‘4Q265 and the Authoritative Status of Jubilees at Qumran’, p. 260; For a similar position to my own, see Émile Puech, ‘Quelques Observations sur le “Canon” des ’, in Authoritative Scriptures in Ancient Judaism (ed. Mladen Popovic´; JSJSup, 141; Leiden: Brill, 2010), pp. 117–41 (138–9).



Salvation through Emulation

221

3.1. Abra(ha)m and the ravens of Prince Mastemah (Jub. 11.11-24) Prior to the birth of Abra(ha)m, the book of Jubilees tells us that Prince Mastemah had been attacking the Chaldeans with plagues of ravens that would descend upon their newly planted fields and ‘eat the seed which would be planted in the ground’ (Jub. 11.11). Not only did the ravens severely affect the planting of the crops and the produce that would have ultimately resulted from the Chaldeans’ agricultural efforts, but the ravens also consumed the fruit of the trees (Jub. 11.13), which reduced the Chaldeans to ‘poverty’, thereby providing the author with an etiological explanation for the name of Abra(ha)m’s father: Terah.31 The Chaldeans continued to be plagued by the ravens even after the birth of Abra(ha)m, but when Abra(ha)m reached the age of 14 he ‘began to realize the errors of the earth – that everyone was going astray after the statutes and after impurity’ (Jub. 11.16). As a result of this revelation, Abra(ha)m prayed to the ‘creator of all’ and asked God to ‘save him from the errors of mankind and that it might not fall to his share to go astray after impurity and wickedness’ (Jub. 11.17). Upon uttering this prayer Abra(ha)m immediately joins his fellow Chaldeans in the fields, so as to protect the seeds from Mastemah’s minions (Jub. 11.18). Running towards the ravens, who were descending towards the new plantings, Abra(ha)m cries out: ‘Do not come down; return to the place from which you came!’ (Jub. 11.19); upon hearing these words the birds dispersed. Over the course of the day Abra(ha)m repeats this process an additional 69 times and succeeds in turning back the ravens on 70 separate occasions (Jub. 11.20). So successful was Abra(ha)m that, according to the text, not one bird settled on the ground and ‘his reputation grew large throughout the entire land of the Chaldeans’ (Jub. 11.21). Abra(ha)m continued in this capacity for some time until he was inspired to create a new plough design that would protect the seeds by keeping them ‘hidden in the ground’ (Jub. 11.23). The story draws to a close with Abra(ha)m instructing the craftsmen of the region on how to build this implement; thereby eliciting the repeated refrain that the people ‘were no longer afraid’ (Jub. 11.23, 24). The provenance of this story is difficult to identify and, to the best of my knowledge, no consensus has been reached on its origins.32 For the purposes of this discussion, however, the provenance of this tale is secondary to the question of what it is that the author may have hoped to accomplish by incorporating this extra biblical story into his retelling of the patriarchal

31. See James H. Charlesworth (ed.), Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (2 vols; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1983, 1985), p. 2.74. 32. Sebastian P. Brock, ‘Abraham and the Ravens: A Syriac Counterpart to Jubilees 11-12 and its Implications’, JJS 9 (1978), pp. 135–52; Michael P. Knowles, ‘Abram and the Birds in Jubilees 11: A Subtext for the Parable of the Sower?’ NTS 41 (1995), pp. 145–51 (146–47); Cory D. Crawford, ‘On the Exegetical Function of the Abraham/Ravens Tradition in Jubilees 11’, HTR 97/1 (2004), pp. 91–7.

222

This World and the World to Come

narratives from Genesis 11–12. While I agree with those who have argued that the story of Abra(ha)m’s protection of the ‘seeds’ in Jubilees is connected to Genesis and its repeated references to the (rz or ‘seed’ of Abra(ha)m (Gen. 12.7; 13.15, 16; 15.3, 5, 13, 18; 17.7, 8, 9, 10, 12), which is likewise tied to the covenantal promise that Abra(ha)m’s ‘seed’ will receive a portion of the earth or land in which to grow and prosper (Gen. 12.7; 15.7; 17.8),33 the multivalent and dualistic nature of the Abra(ha)m/ravens episode in Jubilees lends itself to complimentary interpretations. Namely, that Abra(ha)m’s monotheistic revelations concerning the unrivalled sovereignty of God and the sinfulness of worshipping graven images (Jub. 11.16-17) provides him with a superhuman ability to repel the forces of evil, as represented by Mastemah’s ravens, and to protect his descendents from future attacks, as is indicated by his ingenuity regarding the invention of the seed-plough. Concerning the latter, the apotropaic quality of Abraham’s seed-plough, which, from a literary perspective, is undeniably phallic, would appear to prefigure God’s covenant with Abraham and, more specifically, the sign of that pact (i.e., circumcision; Gen. 17.9-14; Jub. 15.3-14). This interpretation is reinforced by Jubilees 12, when, after destroying the idols of the Chaldeans (Jub. 12.9-14), Abraham prayerfully acknowledges God’s exclusive authority and appeals to Him for continued protection from the forces of evil: My God, my God, God most High, You alone are my God. You have created everything; Everything that was and has been is the product of your hands. You and your lordship I have chosen. Save me from the power of the evil spirits who rule the thoughts of people’s minds. May they not mislead me from following you, my God. Do establish me and my posterity forever. May we not go astray from now until eternity. (Jub. 12.19-20)

God’s exclusive sovereignty over creation, the foreshadowing of the Abrahamic covenant, and the dualistic struggle between the forces of good and evil are powerful themes in both this passage and in the passage concerning Abraham’s battles with Mastemah’s ravens. For the Jews of the Second Temple period, the Jubilean image of a solitary Jew worshipping the one, true God of Israel and doing battle with the forces of evil in a Gentile society that was exclusively polytheistic must have provided great comfort and joy. Moreover, the apotropaic power wielded by the superhuman image of Abraham in Jubilees, when combined with this power’s explicit connections to the Abrahamic covenant, would have resonated loudly with a group like the Qumran community, whose dualistic worldview (1QS 3.13– 4.26; CD 4.12–6.2a; 1QM 1; 1QHa 14.19b-26a), emphasis on covenantal faithfulness (1QS 1.16–3.12), and demanding interpretation of Judaism necessitated a level of commitment and dedication that would have rivalled that of Abraham himself.

33. Crawford, ‘On the Exegetical Function’, p. 97. See also, VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees, pp. 46–7.



Salvation through Emulation

223

Beyond the overarching similarities between the theology of the Qumran community and the Jubilean story of Abra(ha)m and the ravens, the Damascus Document contains a reference to Abraham that is explicitly tied to the book of Jubilees and the aforementioned themes: Therefore, one will impose upon self to return to the law of Moses, for in it all is defined. And the exact interpretation of their ages about the blindness of Israel in all these matters, behold, it is defined in The Book of the divisions of the periods according to their jubilees and their weeks. And on the day on which one has imposed upon himself to return to the law of Moses, the angel of Mastemah will turn aside from following him, should he keep his words. This is why Abraham circumcised himself on the day of his knowledge. (emphasis mine; CD 16.1-6)

As noted above in our discussion on the authority of Jubilees at Qumran, this passage explicitly cites the title of the book of Jubilees and seems to have in mind the eschatological ruminations of Jubilees 23. In CD 16.6, however, the author adds a compelling interpretive gloss concerning Abraham and his circumcision on ‘the day of his knowledge’. Although Menahem Kister has argued, ‘Abraham’s circumcision [in CD 16.6] is mentioned merely because of his prompt performance of God’s commandment … [and] has nothing to do with deliverance from Mastemah’, I find it difficult to accept this interpretation.34 Rather, it seems more plausible to follow the line of thought articulated by Solomon Schechter, Louis Ginzberg, Chaim Rabin, and Joseph Baumgarten, who have argued that those individuals who do not follow the model of Abraham by entering the covenant and circumcising themselves are vulnerable to Prince Mastemah and his evil machinations.35 Not only is this interpretation supported by our reading of the Abra(ha)m/ravens episode above, but it is further bolstered by the witness of Jubilees, which, when retelling the story of Abraham’s circumcision in Genesis 17, repeatedly mentions that those who do not circumcise the flesh of their foreskin are not protected from the forces of evil and will remain under the authority of spirits that will ‘lead them astray from following him [i.e., God]’ (Jub. 15.31; cf. Jub. 15.26-34). Furthermore, the reference in CD 16.6 to the ‘day’ on which Abraham was circumcised (i.e., the festival of weeks, which Jubilees dates to the fifteenth day of the third month; cf. Jub. 6.17-20; 15.1) seems to coincide with the Qumran community’s annual celebration of the covenant 34. Menahem Kister, ‘Demons, Theology, and Abraham’s Covenant’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls at Fifty: Proceedings of the 1997 Society of Biblical Literature Qumran Section Meetings (eds R. A. Kugler and E. M. Schuller; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1999), pp. 167–84 (180–1). 35. Solomon Schechter, Documents of Jewish Sectaries: Fragments of a Zadokite Work (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1910), p. lvi; Louis Ginzberg, An Unknown Jewish Sect (New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary, 1976), p. 95; Chaim Rabin, The Zadokite Documents (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2nd rev. edn, 1958), p. 75; Joseph M. Baumgarten, The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations (eds J. Charlesworth and Henry W. M. Reitz; 2 vols; Tubingen: J. C. B. Mohr/ Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1995), p. 41.

224

This World and the World to Come

renewal ceremony (4QDa 11 16b-20a; 4QDe 7 ii 11-14; cf. Deut. 31.9-13),36 which was also held during the third month, thereby suggesting that the members of the community, new and old alike, were emulating the model of Abraham in Jubilees in hope of being protected from the activities of Prince Mastemah and ultimately securing God’s eternal blessings and deliverance at the end of days. 3.2. The Akedah (Jub. 17.15–18.9) In the book of Jubilees’ retelling of the Akedah from Genesis 22, Abraham once again does battle with Prince Mastemah. This time around, however, Abraham’s struggles with the forces of evil are indirect inasmuch as it is God, responding to Mastemah’s Job-like accusation that Abraham loves Isaac and ‘finds him more pleasing than anyone else’ (Jub. 17.16), who ultimately ‘tests’ Abraham’s fidelity. Nevertheless, it is Mastemah’s suggestion that Abraham be commanded to offer Isaac as ‘a sacrifice on an altar’ (Jub. 17.16) that is the motivating factor behind this trial, which Mastemah claims will settle the question of Abraham’s devotion and obedience to God once and for all. In contrast to Genesis 22, which implies that God may have been unaware of the limits of Abraham’s faith (Gen. 22.12), the Akedah in Jubilees is not so much a test of Abraham as it is an opportunity for God to show Mastemah, and anybody else who may have doubted Abraham’s faith, that the patriarch has been, and will continue to be, obedient in all that is asked of him (cf. Jub. 18.16). This is accomplished, in part, by the author’s insertion of a preface before the story of Isaac’s near sacrifice in which Abraham is acknowledged by God as having passed six prior tests (Jub. 17.17-18)37 and is described by the narrator as one who ‘loved the Lord’ and had been faithful and patient in ‘everything through which he tested him’ (Jub. 17.18; cf. Jub. 17.15; 23.10; Isa. 41.8; 2 Chron. 20.7). According to VanderKam, these exegetical moves on the part of the author indicate that ‘the purpose of this test [in Jubilees] was not to instruct God; he already knew the nature of Abraham. Others, however, needed to be shown.’38 The ‘others’ to whom VanderKam is referring would no doubt include the collection of unidentified voices in heaven who had been discussing Abraham’s faith (Jub. 17.15), and Prince Mastemah, 36. Kister, ‘Demons, Theology, and Abraham’s Covenant’, p. 180 n. 68; Sarianna Metso, The Serekh Texts (London: T&T Clark, 2007), p. 25. 37. The tests mentioned in Jub. 17.17-18 include: (1) Abraham’s withdrawal from his homeland; (2) the famine that was instigated by Mastemah’s ravens; (3) the wealth of kings; (4) the abduction of his wife by Pharaoh; (5) the act of circumcision; and (6) the dismissal of Hagar and Ishmael. From the standpoint of Jubilees, the Akedah is the seventh test of Abraham’s faith. Although Jubilees fails to describe the eighth and ninth trials, the tenth test, which is referred to in Jub. 19.8-9, is the death of Sarah and her subsequent burial. 38. James C. VanderKam, ‘The Aqedah, Jubilees, and Pseudojubilees’, in The Quest for Context and Meaning: Studies in Biblical Intertextuality in Honor of James A. Sanders (eds C. A. Evans and S. Talmon; Leiden: Brill, 1997), pp. 241–61 (251).



Salvation through Emulation

225

who is described in Jubilees as being ‘put to shame’ when Abraham succeeds in passing God’s seventh trial (Jub. 18.12). Beyond the aforementioned deviations from the biblical base text, the book of Jubilees largely follows the wording of Gen. 22.11-19 in its retelling of the Akedah narrative. The remaining deviations from the biblical narrative include: Mastemah’s presence behind the Angel of the Lord during the climactic moment of Isaac’s near sacrifice (Jub. 18.9); the identification of the event as having transpired on Mt Zion (Jub. 18.13); the subtle but important shift from Gen. 22.16’s ‘because you have done this, and have not withheld your son, your only son’ to ‘because you have performed this command and have not refused me your first-born son whom you love’ in Jub. 18.15; and Abraham’s celebration of the prefigured festival of Passover at the culmination of the Akedah narrative (Jub. 18.18-19). Taken in order, Mastemah’s presence as a witness to Abraham’s success with regard to God’s trial serves to magnify the shame that Mastemah is forced to endure and emphasizes the concept that God’s faith in Abraham had been well placed. Second, the association between the Akedah and Mt Zion, although not exclusive to Jubilees (cf. 2 Chron. 3.1), is yet another way in which the author elevates and imbues the character of Abraham with a priestly mantle (cf. Jub. 12.25-27; 13.4; 15.1-2; 16.20-31). Third, the shift from describing Isaac as Abraham’s ‘only son’ (Gen. 22.16) to calling him his ‘first-born son whom you love’ is a rather clever exegetical move that simultaneously solves the imprecise claim in Genesis that Abraham has only one son, and amplifies the force of Mastemah’s accusations against Abraham by creating dramatic tension between the patriarch’s love for God and his love for Isaac. And finally, the prefiguring of the festival of Passover, although not specifically named as such in Jubilees, sees a priest-like Abraham celebrating a sevenday festival in remembrance of his journey to, and trial on, Mt Zion (Jub. 18.18-19). The intentional foreshadowing of the Exodus event in the Akedah is accomplished in Jubilees (1) through Mastemah’s efforts to disrupt the covenantal relationship between God and Abraham during the Akedah and again when Mastemah attempts to kill Moses and aids Pharaoh’s magicians (Jub. 17.16; 48.2-4, 9-11; cf. CD 5.18-19); (2) through the shame that Mastemah repeatedly endures when his efforts to shatter the covenant are twice thwarted (Jub. 18.12; 48.12-18); (3) through the activities of the Angel of the Presence who ‘stood’ between Mastemah/Pharaoh and Abraham/Israel in order to protect those who were in the covenant with God (Jub. 18.9; 48.13); and (4) through Abraham’s celebration of the prefigured festival of Passover, which Moses and the Israelites are commanded to observe after the Exodus event (Jub. 18.18-19; 49.1-23). Contrary to those who have interpreted Jubilees’ intentional foreshadowing of the Passover during the Akedah as having no theological import,39 and those who have argued that 39. Bruce Chilton and Philip R. Davies, ‘The Aqedah: A Revised Tradition History’, CBQ 40 (1978), pp. 514–46.

226

This World and the World to Come

it prefigures the Christian interpretation of Jesus’s death by imbuing Isaac and the Passover sacrifice in the Exodus event with a salvific function beyond their immediate contexts,40 I am inclined to agree with Leroy Huizenga, who has convincingly argued that ‘the presentation of the Aqedah [in Jubilees] has a paranetic function – the author wishes to make clear that only strict obedience to covenant stipulations secures deliverance from earthly and heavenly threats against the covenant people’.41 This interpretation accords well with both our reading of the Abraham/ravens episode and that of the Akedah in Jubilees and suggests that the apotropaic and salvific dimensions of covenantal faithfulness in Jubilees should be understood as being emblematic of a ‘mimetic soteriology rather than a vicarious or expiatory soteriology’.42 In other words, Abraham’s repeated successes in upholding the covenant and defeating Mastemah in Jubilees do not afford future generations with eternal salvation or a lasting protection from the forces of evil.43 Rather, the Abraham of Jubilees is intended to function as a model of obedience and covenantal faithfulness that must be emulated in order for subsequent generations to secure their own protection from Mastemah’s deceptions and to ensure the promise of countless offspring, unending peace, and God’s eternal blessings (cf. 1QS 4.6b-8). The mimetic dimension of Jubilees’ soteriology, as exhibited in the passages above, is likewise reflected in the writings of the Qumran community, who single out Abraham as a model of obedience that must be emulated. In a section on the dualistic nature of existence, the author of the Damascus Document provides an extensive list of those who have been faithful to God’s commandments and those who have erred (CD 2.14–3.12). In this rather lengthy passage, which condemns the Nephilim, the sons of the Nephilim, the sons of Noah, the sons of Jacob, and the grandchildren of Jacob for heeding their own desires and not keeping the commandments of God, only Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are singled for their obedience to the Lord: Abraham did not walk in it [i.e., the path of his own desires] and was counted as a friend for keeping God’s precepts and not following the desire of his spirit. And he passed (them) on to Isaac and to Jacob, and they kept (them) and were written up as friends of God and as members of the covenant for ever. (CD 3.2-4a)

40. Geza Vermes, ‘Redemption and Genesis xxii’, in Scripture and Tradition in Judaism (Leiden: Brill, 1961), pp. 193–227 (215). 41. Leroy A. Huizenga, ‘The Battle for Isaac: Exploring the Composition and Function of the Aqedah in the Book of Jubilees’, JSP 13.1 (2002), pp. 33–59 (36). 42. Huizenga, ‘The Battle for Isaac’, p. 59. 43. This observation is supported by Jubilees’ retelling of the Exodus event and the Israelites’ continued struggles with Prince Mastemah (Jub. 48.1-19). Despite the explicit association between the Akedah and the Passover in Jubilees, neither Abraham’s faithfulness nor Isaac’s implicit willingness to offer himself up as a sacrifice to God can protect the Israelites from the forces of evil and their repeated attempts to undermine the covenant. Huizenga, ‘The Battle for Isaac’, p. 59.



Salvation through Emulation

227

Here, as in Jubilees, Abraham is a paragon of faith and obedience who heeds the commandments of God and, as a result, becomes a ‘friend’ of the Lord (CD 3.2). Abraham’s son and grandson are likewise referred to as ‘friends of God and as members of the covenant for ever’ (CD 3.3b-4a) in that they have emulated the model of Abraham by being obedient to the Lord in their own right. The repeated notion that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob have secured God’s friendship through their obedience to His commandments echoes Jubilees retelling of the Akedah narrative, which twice refers to Abraham as a ‘friend’ or ‘beloved’ of God (Jub. 17.15, 18; cf. Isa. 41.8; 2 Chron. 20.7). Furthermore, the references in the Damascus Document to not walking along the path of sinful desires (CD 3.2; cf. Jub. 21.22; 22.23), to Abraham transmitting God’s precepts to his descendants (CD 3.3; cf. Jub. 21.5-20; 22.16-23), and to Isaac and Jacob becoming eternal members of the covenant (CD 3.4a; cf. Jub. 21.24-25; 22.9, 15, 24, 27-30) are explicitly mentioned in the book of Jubilees during two extrabiblical testimonies that Abraham shares with his son and grandson prior to his death (Jub. 21.1-26; 22.10-30), thereby suggesting an even closer affinity between the image of Abraham in Jubilees and that of the Damascus Document. 4. Conclusion In the preceding discussion I have attempted to present a case for seeing the book of Jubilees as an authoritative composition at Qumran. Moreover, I have endeavoured to show how the book of Jubilees and the Qumran community understood the patriarch Abraham as the quintessential example of piety and obedience. As a result of this intentionally circumscribed study I have come to the conclusion that the refined and highly polished image of Abraham in the book of Jubilees had a significant bearing on the soteriologial aspirations of the Qumran community. In contrast to the faithful yet overtly human image of Abraham in the Hebrew Scriptures, Qumran was captivated by the patriarch’s refined and sacerdotal visage in the book of Jubilees. It is this Abraham – not the Abraham of Genesis – that the author of the Damascus Document had in mind when he singled out the patriarch as being an example of covenantal faithfulness that was worthy of emulation (CD 3.2-4a, 12b-16a; cf. Jub. 17.15-18; 23.9-10). Although the rewards/consequences of aligning oneself with the Sons of Light or the Sons of Darkness are simultaneously temporal and eschatological in the Dead Sea Scrolls, future generations are neither eternally damned nor eternally blessed by the actions of previous generations. Rather, each successive generation must decide for themselves whether or not they will embrace a model of pious behaviour and covenantal faithfulness, as embodied by the person of Abraham in the book of Jubilees, or if they will continue to follow the inclinations of their own hearts by walking along sinful paths of disobedience. Not unlike the Gospel of Luke, which describes John the Baptist as chastising his contemporaries for passively relying on their status

228

This World and the World to Come

as the descendants of Abraham in order to secure the promise of God’s covenantal blessings and protection (Lk. 3.7-9), the Qumran community claims that the divine promises of the covenant cannot be secured unless the heirs to that agreement actively embrace and imitate the model of their pious forefather Abraham. Only by emulating the Jubilean example of Abraham, who was ‘perfect with the Lord in everything he did’ (Jub. 23.10), entering the covenant/Qumran community, and following the commandments of God, as properly interpreted by the divinely inspired leaders of the community, could an individual hope to become a member of the true Israel, secure God’s protection from the forces of evil, and claim one’s eschatological reward. To do otherwise would be akin to placing oneself under the authority of Prince Mastemah, whose ways lead to erroneous halakhic interpretations, death, and the forfeiture of future generations.

Chapter 14

Grace, Works and Destiny: Salvation in Qumran’s Community Rule (1QS/4QS) Markus Bockmuehl How did the Qumran community envisage the salvation of God’s people? Before we can engage with the sources and with previous scholarship on this question, several preliminary issues require attention. These include the exponential growth of the available source material in recent years, the place of soteriology in the Qumran literature as a whole, and some consideration of the most suitable point of departure. 1. Preliminary considerations 1.1. New sources After decades of delay at the hands of an exclusive coterie of specialists, free access to the photographs of the Dead Sea Scrolls was at last opened up to the scholarly community in the autumn of 1991. At the same time, the editorial team was significantly enlarged and reorganized under the new aegis of Emanuel Tov. Since then, there has been a dramatic acceleration in the official publication of the Scrolls, and numerous new university appointments, academic journals and monograph series have been created to cope with the increased pace of scholarly activity. One small but significant statistic may serve to indicate the scale of change: in the 35 years from its inception until 1990, the definitive Discoveries in the Judaean Desert edition had produced only eight volumes. Between 1992 and the end of 1997, however, a further 13 volumes appeared. In the study of Jewish and Christian origins, no other area has in the 1990s seen such large-scale engagement with new sources as the study of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Before embarking on our study of Qumran’s view of human salvation, therefore, it is important to note that almost the entire body of secondary literature on this subject pre-dates the scholarly watershed of 1992. Since then, numerous literary and theological questions have come to be clarified, new issues have been raised, and a far greater sense has been gained of the

230

This World and the World to Come

religious complexity behind that vast collection of texts found at Qumran. Several of the new texts have received attention far beyond the scholarly world, not least because of their supposed relevance to Christian origins.1 Well beyond the sensationalist and idiosyncratic arguments of recent years, however, it is clear that many of the ‘new’ texts are of considerable interest for the understanding of Jewish life and faith around the beginning of our era. 1.2. Salvation and ‘the Qumran pattern of religion’ In one sense this dramatic development significantly complicates our attempt to study the texts in dialogue with earlier scholars. When E. P. Sanders, for example, devoted 90 pages of his celebrated work Paul and Palestinian Judaism to the Scrolls,2 he could assume as largely unproblematic their Essene authorship in toto and, with only minor exceptions, their more or less homogeneous character as representative of ‘the Qumran pattern of religion’.3 What is more, his study was overwhelmingly concerned with just four main documents, the first of which was then accessible to the public only in two medieval copies from the Cairo Genizah, while the others could be studied solely from published fragments in Cave 1: the Damascus Document (CD), the Community Rule (1QS)4 and related eschatological texts (1QSa, 1QSb), the War Scroll (1QM) and the Hodayot or Hymns (1QH).5 The only other 1. This essay was originally published as ‘1QS and Salvation at Qumran’, in Justification and Variegated Nomism: Volume 1: The Complexities of Second Temple Judaism (eds D. A. Carson, et al.; WUNT, 2.140; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), pp. 381–414. Of these, the ‘Messianic Apocalypse’ 4Q521 and the supposed ‘slain Messiah’ text 4Q285 are perhaps the best known. 2. E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion (London: SCM, 1977), pp. 239–328. 3. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 239 n. 1, emphasis mine; cf. pp. 316–21. 4. There is also a single passing reference to 4QSe as cited in C.-H. Hunzinger, ‘Beobachtungen zur Entwicklung der Disziplinarordnung der Gemeinde von Qumran’, in Qumran-Probleme: Vortläge des Leipziger Symposions über Qumran-Probleme vom 9. bis 14. Oktober 1961 (ed. H. Bardtke; Deutsche Akademie der Wissenschaften: Schriften der Sektion für Altertumswissenschaft, 42; Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 1963), pp. 231–47 (cited in Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 324). 5. 1QH will here be cited according to the reconstructed order as proposed by Émile Puech (‘Quelques aspects de la restauration du Rouleau des Hymnes (1QH)’, JJS 38 [1988], pp. 38–55) and now widely adopted, e.g., in the translation of Florentino García Martínez, The Dead Sea Scrolls Translated: The Qumran Texts in English (trans. W. G. E. Watson; Leiden: Brill/Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2nd edn, 1996) – see esp. p. 302. Unfortunately their line numbering does not always coincide; but since most readers seem likely at present to find García Martínez the most accessible translation, I have chosen to adopt his referencing. For the same reasons, citations of 4QMMT are given according to the ‘composite text’ in García Martínez’s translation, with the alternative reference to Qimron & Strugnell’s version in DJD vol. 10 in parentheses.



Grace, Works and Destiny

231

texts cited repeatedly are the Habakkuk Commentary (1QpHab), part of the Psalms Commentary (4QpPsa, olim 4QpPs37) and the so-called Midrash on Eschatology (4QMidrEschata, olim Florilegium=4QFlor).6 Even if it were possible, no serious student would today attempt to describe ‘the Qumran pattern of religion’ without reference to the large number of additional texts that have become accessible since 1977. For present purposes we need mention only a few of the most familiar: the Temple Scroll (11QTemple; cf. the earlier exemplar 4Q5247), the Halakhic Letter from Qumran (4QMMT) and the extensive new Cave 4 fragments of the Community Rule, Damascus Document, War Scroll and Hymns (4QS, 4QD, 4QM, 4QH), new apocalypses concerning a ‘son of God’ figure and the ministry of the Messiah (4Q246, 4Q521; cf. 4Q541), various important prayers and liturgical texts (4QPrFêtes, 4QShirShabb, 4QBarekîNafshî), etc. Numerous other texts could be listed, including biblical MSS as well as a large number of ‘para-biblical’ apocrypha, halakhic and wisdom texts (see e.g., DJD vols 19, 20, 22). Given this much larger text base, a contemporary treatment of Qumran’s ‘pattern of religion’ would probably not follow along the lines one might have chosen a quarter of a century ago. Indeed it is instructive to recall, for example, how Sanders’ at first largely soteriological construction of ancient Judaism came in for criticism, as suspiciously dominated by Christian and Protestant concerns.8 One wonders, too, about the extent to which both Sanders and some of his critics were guided in their perception of this topic by the desire to arrive at a large-scale systemic ‘comparison’ with central aspects of Pauline theology.9 It would be possible, for the sake of the argument, to grant the heuristic utility of such a ‘Protestant’ reading in the case of 1QS and CD with their penchant for sectarian questions of membership, covenant and eschatological identity – even though, as Otto Betz has rightly noted, the Scrolls seem to employ no noun or verb that could be said to correspond closely to the 6. For this proposed change in the nomenclature of 4Q174 (olim 4QFlor) see Annette Steudel, Der Midrasch zur Eschatologie aus der Qumrangemeinde (4QMidrEschata.b) (STDJ, 13; Leiden: Brill, 1994). Sanders does also cite 1QpMic 7ff. on two occasions; several minor texts from Cave 4 are cited once. 7. See Émile Puech, ‘Fragments du plus ancien exemplaire du Rouleau du Temple (4Q524)’, in Legal Texts and Legal Issues: Proceedings of the Second Meeting of the International Organization for Qumran Studies, Cambridge 1995 (Fs. Joseph M. Baumgarten; eds M. Bernstein et al.; Leiden: Brill, 1997). 8. So Jacob Neusner, ‘The Use of Later Rabbinic Evidence for the Study of Paul’, in Approaches to Ancient Judaism (ed. W. S. Green; Chico: Scholars Press, 1980), pp. 2.43–63 (49f.) and passim. This criticism may be said to have been effectively refuted by Sanders’ later work: see his Jewish Law from Jesus to the Mishnah: Five Studies (London: SCM/Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1990); idem, Judaism: Practice and Belief 63 bce–66 ce (London: SCM/Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1992); but note also his response at the time: Sanders, ‘Puzzling Out Rabbinic Judaism’, in Approaches to Ancient Judaism (ed. W. S. Green; Chico: Scholars Press, 1980), pp. 2.65–79. 9. Note the subtitle of Sanders’ 1977 book (n. 2 above).

232

This World and the World to Come

(Pauline) notion of justification.10 However, even a more broadly soteriological focus no longer adequately accounts for the great variety of textual genres and perspectives that the more recent texts have brought to light. Documents like 4QMMT or 11QTemple, and various texts of calendrical and ritual import demonstrate the extent to which concretely halakhic interests lie at the very heart of the Qumran community’s identity and self-understanding, quite in addition to any explicit preoccupation with gaining or maintaining status before God. Similarly, the importance of worship, prayer and liturgical developments at Qumran is something which might have been guessed from certain passages in the War Scroll and the Hymns, but which the recently published texts have clearly underscored. The group’s sustained interest in non-sectarian, traditional eschatology and apocalyptic, too, has emerged in a considerable number of both known and previously unknown works from Cave 4. In all these respects, an explanation of Qumran’s religion purely or even predominantly in classic soteriological terms would seem today to be unacceptably narrow. 1.3. Purpose and method of this study Having said all this, our brief here is of course at once more narrow than the one that E. P. Sanders set out to address, and yet more congenial to the methods and results he actually espoused than a comprehensive survey of the Qumran ‘library’ would lead one to conclude. Sanders’ results pertain to the problem of salvation in a covenantal relationship with God – in his own somewhat imprecise words, of ‘getting in’ and ‘staying in’ such a relationship.11 It may well be that Jacob Neusner was right to query this orientation as a biased interest more characteristic of the interpreter’s Christian concerns than those of the Judaism he is trying to understand.12 Christian or not, however, the question of human salvation is clearly a legitimate one; and it happens to be one which a great many Jewish texts (and not just these ones) do from time to time prominently address.13 In this sense, therefore, a meaningful discussion of Qumran’s soteriology is indeed well advised to take seriously the contributions of E. P. Sanders and other earlier contributors to the debate.14 What is more, even the 10. Otto Betz, ‘Rechtfertigung in Qumran’, in Rechtfertigung (Fs. Ernst Käsemann; eds J. Friedrich, et al.; Tübingen: Mohr [Siebeck]/Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1976), pp. 17–36 (17). His claim that the Scrolls never use the hifil of qdc to denote God’s act of justification (Betz, ‘Rechtfertigung in Qumran’, p. 17) needs to be slightly modified in light of the phrase hwhy qydcy in 4Q370 2.2 – though of course this still leaves the possibility that that text might have originated outside the sect. Note also 1QS 3.3. 11. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 544–5. 12. Neusner, ‘The Use of Later Rabbinic Evidence’, pp. 49–50 and passim. 13. Even Neusner concedes this (‘The Use of Later Rabbinic Evidence’, pp. 48, 50). 14. In addition to Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, significant contributors include Jürgen Becker, Das Heil Gottes: Heils-und Sündenbegriffe in den Qumrantexten



Grace, Works and Destiny

233

particular emphasis on the major documents from Cave 1 turns out to be not far from the mark. In many ways it is still these documents which most clearly concern themselves with both the social and theological aspects of people’s acceptance before God – even if a study of the Qumran community’s constitutional documents must now take into account the very significant manuscripts from Cave 4. Given the constraints of space, therefore, this narrower soteriological concern of our study still makes it appropriate to concentrate on the Community Rule as our base text – although taking into account the various newly published fragments from Cave 4.15 Where relevant, reference will of

und im Neuen Testament (SUNT, 3; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1964); Betz, ‘Rechtfertigung in Qumran’; William H. Brownlee, ‘Anthropology and Soteriology in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the New Testament’, in The Use of the Old Testament in the New and Other Essays (Fs. William Franklin Stinespring; ed. J. M. Efird; Durham: Duke University, 1972), pp. 210–41; John V. Chamberlain, ‘Toward a Qumran Soteriology’, NovT 3 (1959), pp. 305–13; Paul Garnet, Salvation and Atonement in the Qumran Scrolls (WUNT, 2.3; Tübingen: Mohr [Siebeck], 1977); Walter Grundmann, ‘The Teacher of Righteousness of Qumran and the Question of Justification by Faith in the Theology of the Apostle Paul’, in Paul and Qumran: Studies in New Testament Exegesis (ed. J. Murphy-O’Conner; London: Chapman, 1968), pp. 85–114; Norbert Ilg, ‘Überlegungen zum Verständnis von tyrb in den Qumrântexten’, in Qumrân: Sa piété, sa théologie et son milieu (ed. M. Delcor; BETL, 46; Paris: Duculot/Leuven: Leuven University, 1978), pp. 257–63; Annie Jaubert, La notion de l’Alliance dans le Judaïsme aux abords de l’ère chrétienne (Paris: Seuil, 1963), pp. 209–49; H.-W. Kuhn, Enderwartung und gegenwärtiges Heil: Untersuchungen zu den Gemeindeliedern von Qumran (SUNT, 4; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1966); A. R. C. Leaney, The Rule of the Community (NTL; London: SCM, 1966), pp. 31–107; Hermann Lichtenberger, Studien zum Menschenbild in den Texten der Qumrangemeinde (SUNT, 15; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1980); idem, ‘Atonement and Sacrifice in the Qumran Community’, in Approaches, pp. 2.159-71; idem, ‘Enderwartung und Reinheitsidee: Zur eschtologischen Deutung von Reinheit und Sühne in der Qumrangemeinde’, JJS 34 (1983), pp. 31–62; Helmer Ringgren, The Faith of Qumran: Theology of the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. J. H. Charlesworth; trans. E. T. Sander; New York: Crossroad, expanded edn, 1995), pp. 94–166; Siegfried Schulz, ‘Zur Rechtfertigung aus Gnaden in Qumran und bei Paulus: Zugleich ein Beitrag zur Formund Überlieferungsgeschichte der Qumrantexte’, ZTK 66 (1959), pp. 155–85; Mark A. Seifrid, Justification by Faith: The Origin and Development of a Central Pauline Theme (NovTSup, 68; Leiden: Brill, 1992), pp. 78–106; J. W. Semmelink, ‘Die verband tussen genade en werke in 1QS se reddingsbegrip’, SK 16 (1995), pp. 102–24; Peter Stuhlmacher, Gerechtigkeit Gottes bei Paulus (FRLANT, 87; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1966), pp.148–66; and others. 15. Beyond this, the scroll containing 1QS also included the eschatological Rule for the messianic age (1QSa, somewhat confusingly entitled ‘Rule of the Congregation’) and the eschatological Blessings (1QSb). It is of course true that aside from this one MS we have no evidence that 1QS was typically copied together with 1QSa and 1QSb. So also Sarianna Metso, The Textual Development of the Qumran Community Rule (STDJ, 21; Leiden: Brill, 1997), p. 151, although she somewhat overstates the case in claiming to find ‘no indication’ that the three documents were ‘ever copied together’ (emphasis mine). In any case it seems that at least the latest text form of the Community Rule was produced, and presumably read, together with 1QSa and 1QSb.

234

This World and the World to Come

course also be made to other leading sectarian documents such as CD, 1QH and 4QMMT. One might of course wish to argue that all the material maintained in the Qumran ‘library’16 is in some sense indicative of the sect’s beliefs at different stages. Nevertheless, even on a comprehensive view it is still in Serekh haYah. ad that we have the constitutional text that most clearly and explicitly sets out the sect’s distinctive beliefs and religious self-understanding. Its great importance for the sectarians is evident from the fact that no less than 12 copies have come to light at Qumran, more than of any other non-biblical text except Jubilees.17 Although the text underwent continual change and was perhaps never finalized in definitive terms, it is clear that in its explicit function as a leadership manual it was intended to encapsulate the community’s selfdefinition in terms of both theological and practical distinctives.18 2. The Rule of the Community The document entitled Sefer Serekh ha-Yah. ad (after 4QSa 1.1, where the phrase occurs verbatim) is a quasi-catechetical manual governing life in the Qumran sect, possibly intended in the first instance for the use of the community leader known as the Maskîl (‘Instructor’, lyk#m).19 In addition 16. I am aware of the difficulty in assessing whether the minor caves and the more remote Dead Sea finds actually belonged to the community ‘library’ – or, for that matter, whether that widely used term adequately interprets even the collections in the major caves. 17. Cf. also Geza Vermes, ‘Preliminary Remarks on Unpublished Fragments of the Community Rule from Qumran Cave 4’, JJS 42 (1991), pp. 250–5 (251) (‘the most copiously attested sectarian writing’ – unless of course one considers Jubilees ‘sectarian’); James H. Charlesworth (ed.), The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations. Vol. 1: Rule of the Community and Related Documents. Vol. 2: Damascus Document, War Scroll, and Related Documents (PTSDSSP, 1-2; Tübingen: Mohr [Siebeck]/Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1994–95), p. 1.2. 18. Note the reconstruction of 1QS 1.1: dxyh Krs rps wyxl y#n[) t) dmll lyk#m]l, ‘for the Maskîl (Instructor) to teach the men during his lifetime, the book of the order of the Community’. 19. Leaney, The Rule of the Community, pp. 117–18, and a majority of writers have followed J. Carmignac (‘Conjecture sur la première ligne de la Règle de la Communauté’, RevQ (1959), pp. 85–9) in restoring the opening word as lyk#m]l (cf. already A. DupontSommer, Les Écrits Esséniens découverts près de la Mer Morte (Bibliothèque Historique; Paris: Payot, 1959), p. 88, or more recently F. du T. Laubscher, ‘The Restoration of 1QS 1:1A’, JNSL 16 (1990), pp. 85–90), not least with reference to the undoubtedly central role of the Instructor elsewhere (e.g., 3.13; 9.12, 21). Whether or not this reconstruction is correct, however (note the cautious remarks of Michael A. Knibb, The Qumran Community (Cambridge Commentaries on Writings of the Jewish and Christian World 200 bc to ad 200; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), p. 79), any overly specific conclusion about the document’s actual Sitz im Leben must be tempered with the realization that the clearly liturgical Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice tend also to begin with the words lyk#ml 4Q401 1–2.1; 4Q403 1.30; 2.18; 4Q405 20–22.6; 4Q406 1.6; 11Q17 2.8; cf. similarly 4Q511 2i1.



Grace, Works and Destiny

235

to an almost complete MS from Cave 1, the document survives in ten fragmentary MSS of different text types in Cave 4 (4QSa-j) and, it appears, one small fragment from Cave 5 (5Q11). In substance, the Rule concerns the beliefs as well as the rules of admission and conduct that govern the life of the Qumran sectarians, although we cannot be wholly sure about its precise setting and use (a liturgical Sitz im Leben at least of the opening covenant renewal text is clear from 1QS 1.20; 2.18).20 A number of other unresolved questions about the Rule cannot be addressed here, including its possible status among Essenes outside Qumran as well as the likely role played by the Teacher of Righteousness in its composition.21 After a brief survey of its contents, we shall examine its view of salvation in systematic topical fashion before turning to a closer textual investigation. 2.1. Overview of 1QS Five separate sections can be discerned in 1QS, although the evidence from Cave 4 suggests that some earlier versions of this document may have comprised no more than the first part of section 4. (1) An introductory paragraph (1.1-18a) offers a definition of the community’s identity and solidarity in strongly theocentric and praxisorientated terms: the community seeks God in everything, concerned ‘to love all that he has chosen, and to hate all that he has rejected’ (1.3-4). Membership of the community is equivalent to membership of an open-ended but exclusive ‘covenant of mercy’ (1.8), which is at the same time sharply demarcated in opposition to the ‘children of darkness’ (1.10). Although this section does envisage people turning from their past ways and devoting themselves to the ways of God (1.6-9) within the community, there is no indication of a developed soteriology. Next, we find (2) an intriguing liturgy for admission to ‘the covenant’ (1.18b–2.18), containing instructions for the annual renewal of this ‘entry’ into the covenant and the exclusion of those who refuse to ‘enter’ in this fashion (2.19–3.12). This is followed by (3) the exposition of the doctrine of the Two Spirits (3.13–4.26), evidently intended as a précis of the sect’s central distinctive beliefs. The writer speaks in strongly predestinarian language22 20. Cf. further Sarianna Metso, ‘In Search of the Sitz im Leben of the Community Rule’, in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Technological Innovations, New Texts, and Reformulated Issues (eds D. W. Parry and E. Ulrich; STDJ, 30; Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 306–15 (314), who suggests a quasi-mishnaic purpose of the Rule, ‘as a record of judicial decisions and an accurate report of oral traditions’. 21. Some have attempted to derive the distinctive Two Spirits discourse (1QS 3.13–5.1) directly or indirectly from the Teacher of Righteousness, but this must remain speculative. 22. E.g., 1QS 3.15-16, ‘Before they came into being he established all their designs; and when they come into existence in their fixed times they carry through their task according to his glorious design. Nothing can be changed. In his hand are the judgements of all things’.

236

This World and the World to Come

and concerns himself with the nature and activity of the ‘spirit of light’ and the ‘children of light’ on the one hand, and the ‘spirit of darkness’ and the ‘children of darkness’ on the other. The children of light are the object of God’s eternal pleasure (cf. 4.1) and their way meets with great blessings in both this life and the life to come,23 while the spirit of falsehood and his followers will experience shame and afflictions, eternal destruction by God’s wrath, and eternal annihilation ‘in the fire of darkness’.24 The next section (4), which has also undergone considerable alteration and expansion over time, addresses the community’s overall organization (5.1–9.11). Finally (5), we find regulations pertaining to the role of the Maskîl or Instructor in particular (9.12–11.22; note previously 3.13). The document as a whole culminates in the psalm of praise and dedication that the Maskîl is to recite on a regular basis (10.6–11.22), and which no doubt serves in paradigmatic fashion to express the theology of the community. It is here that the document reflects most explicitly on the standing and eschatological acceptance of human beings before God. 2.2. Elements of a doctrine of salvation Practicalities of time and space prohibit a detailed exposition, so that we shall need to confine ourselves here to a brief examination of several key themes and passages. In order to facilitate discussion with earlier work on the subject, my outline here briefly addresses several of the themes highlighted by E. P. Sanders,25 with particular attention to issues of theological anthropology. Although initially confining our discussion to 1QS, we shall also see later in this chapter that some of the most interesting observations arise out of certain textual developments between the various MSS of Serekh Ha-Yah. ad. 2.2.1. Election and the people of God: the corporate dimension We begin by examining the Scroll’s use of the biblical ideas of Israel’s election and covenant with God (cf. e.g., Deut. 7.6-12). This language is of course consistently echoed in 1QS as in other Dead Sea Scrolls. Nevertheless, one finds considerable tensions in the way it is handled. Early Essene texts including parts of the Damascus Document (e.g., CD 1.1-4; 16.1-2), the War Scroll (e.g., 1QM 10.9-10; 12.13-14; 13.7-9; 17.8) and certain non-sectarian liturgical documents (e.g., 4QDibHama 3.3–4.12; 4QPrQuot 21-28 viii 8f.; 4QPrFêtes 97-98 5-7) seem to take for granted a universal call to repentance as well as the election and eventual salvation of 23. Cf. 4.7f.: ‘healing and great peace in a long life, multiplication of progeny together with all everlasting blessings, endless joy in everlasting life, and a crown of glory together with a resplendent attire in eternal light’. 24. Cf. e.g., 4.12-13; 4Q280 2.4-5; 4Q286 7 ii 5-11. 25. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 230–8.



Grace, Works and Destiny

237

ethnic Israel as the holy covenantal people of God.26 Although some members of Israel are evidently lost, there is no suggestion that the eschatological conflict with the enemies of God will entail a radical and final limitation of Israelite membership in the covenant. The difference is simply ‘between the just and the wicked’, between ‘those who repent from sin’ to seek refuge in God and those who do not (e.g., CD 20.17-34). Other sectarian texts, however, appear unambiguously restrictive, explicitly limiting covenantal membership and divine election to the righteous and devout and denying salvation to the wicked, to the adversaries of the Teacher of Righteousness and of the community, and sometimes to all Jews who are not part of the covenant. This is perhaps true particularly in the Cave 1 Hymns. The wicked and even the deceivers among Israel are not only excluded from the covenant but doomed to divine judgement and annihilation (e.g., 1QH 12(=4).7-20) – a polarity whose effect is heightened by the eschatological tension of the opponents’ persecution of the psalmist (e.g., 13(=5).17-39). In that connection, the righteous gives thanks that his lot has not fallen ‘in the congregation of falsehood, nor … in the counsel of hypocrites’ (15(=7).34). In fact, the same problem pertains within the argument of 1QS. The document’s language and vocabulary of salvation are to a considerable extent traditional, and familiar from biblical and other Jewish sources. One central theme for this as for other key sectarian documents (notably CD, 1QH, 1QM) is that of the covenant, sometimes explicitly the ‘covenant of God’.27 However, unlike the biblical use of the term to denote a normative divine relationship with the whole nation, the divine ‘covenant’ has here become the defining characteristic of the sectarian community or yah. ad in particular, over against the nation (and of course the nations) at large. In this sense the covenant, while still divinely established, is no longer sufficiently defined as God’s pact of grace with Abraham and his descendants or with all Israel at Sinai, but has become more particularly the sect’s own exclusive alliance devoted to Torah observance. This covenant is an arrangement which one cannot collectively inherit but must individually resolve to enter ()wb qal or rb() both initially (1.16f.) and continually (e.g., 10.10), and into which the community undertakes to bring ()wb hifil, e.g., 1.7; cf. #gn hifil, 11.13) its novices. In other words, membership in the ‘covenant of God’ has become virtually co-extensive with the ‘yah. ad of God’,28 even though the two

26. Cf. similarly Armin Lange and Hermann Lichtenberger, ‘Qumran. Die Textfunde von Qumran’, TRE 28 (1997), pp. 45–79 (69). 27. l) tyrb: 2.26; 5.8; 10.10; cf. CD 20.12, 1QpHab 2.5; 1QH 2.21-22, 28-29. For the term ‘covenant of God’ see also Hermann Lichtenberger and Ekkehard Stegemann, ‘Zur Theologie des Bundes in Qumran und im Neuen Testament’, Kirche und Israel 6 (1991), pp. 136–7. 28. Compare 1.7-8, 16 with 1.11-12: devotees of divine truth bring ()wb hifil) into the yah. ad of God (l) dxy) their knowledge, strength and property. The phrase l) dxy recurs in 2.22.

238

This World and the World to Come

concepts are not identical.29 Some scholars, indeed, have been led to argue that the very understanding of the term ‘Israel’ has in the Scrolls been largely subsumed under the community’s self-understanding as the ‘true’ Israel (as perhaps in 1QS 5.5, 22).30 All of this evidence, however, is in fact fraught with ambiguity and remains extraordinarily difficult to assess. Beginning with the last issue, it is important to note that the Community Rule in fact almost invariably applies the term ‘Israel’ to the nation as a whole (e.g., 1QS 1.22f.; 6.13; 8.11; cf. 3.24, ‘the God of Israel’). Even 1QS 5.5 or 5.22 are by no means unambiguous evidence of a restriction of ‘Israel’ to the chosen few; indeed their meaning may need to be assessed in the light of redactional alterations, as we shall see. Much as scholars continue to argue that the community sees itself, in discontinuity with the rest of Judaism, as the only or ‘true’ Israel,31 this assertion is in fact nowhere to be substantiated – let alone with the kind of explicit clarity that would surely need to underpin such an extraordinary claim. Instead, many Qumran writings use ‘Israel’ in its natural inclusive sense; it is particularly worth noting 4QMMT in this regard, given that document’s polemical function. Instead, a strong case can be made that the community’s self-understanding continues to be in some sense eschatologically representative (rather than substitutive) for the nation as a whole. There is clearly a sense in which the community regards itself as the spiritual heart of the chosen people, and indeed as the eschatological remnant out of all Israel. ‘Remnant’ language is of considerable importance for the definition of the community in both the Damascus Document (e.g., 1.4; 2.12-14) and the War Scroll (e.g., 13.7-9; 14.8-9),32 and it is this biblical topos which most adequately accounts for the sect’s notion of itself as ‘laying a foundation of truth for Israel’ (1QS 5.5) and as constituted of ‘the multitude of Israel’ who are dedicated to return together (or ‘in the yah. ad’: dxyb) to God’s covenant (5.22). In the absence of unambiguous evidence to the contrary, it seems incumbent on the interpreter to understand this material in the first instance in relation to the established remnant tradition of the Old Testament. For all its language of pruning, purification and even (in CD) of a ‘new covenant’,33 post-exilic 29. So rightly Lichtenberger and Stegemann, ‘Zur Theologie des Bundes’, p.136. 30. See e.g., Lichtenberger, Studien zum Menschenbild in den Texten der Qumrangemeinde, pp. 185–6; Seifrid, Justification by Faith, pp. 87–8. 31. E.g., Leaney, The Rule of the Community, p. 74; Lichtenberger, Studien zum Menschenbild in den Texten der Qumrangemeinde, p. 186; cf. Seifrid, Justification by Faith, p. 88. 32. Cf. e.g., 1QH 14(=6).8; 4Q163 4-6 ii 10-16. 33. CD 6.19; 8.21=19.33f.; cf. 20.12 and 6.5; 7.15, 18f.; also 1Q34 3 ii 5, 7; 1QpHab 2.3f. Lichtenberger and Stegemann, ‘Zur Theologie des Bundes’, p. 135, following Hartmut Stegemann, ‘Das Gesetzeskorpus der “Damaskusschrift” CD IX-XVI’, RevQ 14 (1990), pp. 409–34 (427–29), rightly correct a widespread misunderstanding about this term. The actual phrase ‘new covenant’ (as distinct from ‘covenant of God’, etc.) does not occur outside CD; more importantly, even there it concerns not the Qumran community’s



Grace, Works and Destiny

239

tradition nevertheless seems to imply that after extensive judgement on Israel will follow not replacement but restoration: the promises of God are not finally subject to revision. Though destruction may have overtaken even the majority along the way, the few who are now the faithful remnant represent the continuing core of the people of God, around whom all who survive will find their identity and the fulfilment of the promises.34 The salvation of the survivors gathered from the four corners of the earth thus finally incorporates and constitutes the salvation of ‘the whole house of Israel’.35 It is true that the Qumran sect generally had a narrower conception of God’s faithful people in the here and now. Nevertheless, the Scrolls give no indication that a belief in this same basic continuity of the covenant promises has been surrendered. Even the Damascus Document’s notion of a ‘new’ covenant (whose constitution in any case lies some way in the past: see above, n. 33) merely fulfils and validates, but does not displace, the old.36 In other words, for God to ‘renew’ the covenant is to ‘remember’ it, and vice versa.37 What is indeed ‘new’ is the revelation to the community of hitherto unknown religious mysteries, pertaining both to eschatology (Myzr) and to exegetical insights of a halakhic nature (twrtsn).38 It is this knowledge, and the

present self-understanding, but denotes the prior (and arguably pre-sectarian) group constituted ‘in the land of Damascus’. Perhaps a little overconfidently, H. Stegemann, ‘Das Gesetzeskorpus’, p. 428 n. 79, proposes to find in 1QpHab 2.3-4 confirmation that the original ‘new covenant’ was succeeded by ‘the covenant of God’. It is in any case worth noting that CD 20.12 identifies the pact in the land of Damascus as ‘the first covenant’. 34. See e.g., Sir. 47.22; Isa. 10.19-23 and 10.24–11.11, 16; 37.31-32. This is where Israel’s fate finally differs from that of Babylon, which is cut off without remnant or posterity (Isa. 14.22). 35. E.g., Isa. 45.24ff., esp. 45.25; 46.3, 13; Jer. 23.3-8; Ezek. 11.13-20; Mic. 2.12; 7.18, 20; Zech. 8.6-15. 36. Cf. Jaubert, La notion de l’Alliance, p. 222, who speaks of two ‘phases’ of the same covenant; Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 241; Shemaryahu Talmon, ‘“The Dead Sea Scrolls” or “The Community of the Renewed Covenant”’, in The Echoes of Many Texts: Reflections on Jewish and Christian Traditions (Fs. Lou Silberman; eds W. G. Dever and J. E. Wright; BJS, 313; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1997), pp. 135–40 (cf. idem, ‘The Community of the Renewed Covenant: Between Judaism and Christianity’, in The Community of the Renewed Covenant: The Notre Dame Symposium on the Dead Sea Scrolls (eds E. Ulrich and J. VanderKam; Christianity and Judaism in Antiquity, 10; Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1994), pp. 3–24 (12–15); idem, ‘The Essential “Community of the Renewed Covenant.” How Should Qumran Studies Proceed?’, in Geschichte – Tradition – Reflexion (Fs. Martin Hengel; eds H. Cancik, H. Lichtenberger and P. Schäfer; Tübingen: Mohr (Siebeck), 1996), pp. 323–52 (345–7); Lange and Lichtenberger, ‘Qumran’, p. 71 (‘“neu” bedeutet hier jedenfalls nicht, daß man sich im Gegensatz zum Sinai-Bund verstanden hätte’); contra Seifrid, Justification by Faith, p. 89 (‘it is certain that the Qumran covenant was understood to displace the covenant with Israel as a salvific structure’). 37. See 1Q34 3 ii 5, 7; cf. CD 1.2-8. 38. See Markus Bockmuehl, Revelation and Mystery in Ancient Judaism and Pauline Christianity (WUNT, 2.36; Tübingen: Mohr (Siebeck), 1990) (=repr. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997)), pp. 42–4; cf. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 241–2; Joseph M. Baumgarten, Studies in Qumran Law (SJLA, 24; Leiden: Brill, 1977), pp. 29–32.

240

This World and the World to Come

distinctive corporate religious praxis that accompanies it, which endow the community with a tangible ‘remnant’ identity and enable a clear distinction between faithful and unfaithful Israel. As in the Old Testament, that remnant is understood as the survivors and descendants of Israel, an eternal people. The War Scroll unmistakably stresses this element of genetic continuity: ‘You are the God of our fathers, we bless your name forever. We are the people of your inheritance. You established a covenant with our fathers and confirmed it with their offspring for times eternal … the remnant, the survivors of your covenant … you have created us for you, an eternal people’.39 It is true that the sect does not hesitate to view itself as ‘Israel’ (e.g., 1QS 2.22; cf. CD 12.22); and joining the community does indeed mean to join the definitive ‘covenant of God’ (e.g., 1QS 5.7-8; cf. ‘covenant of the yah. ad’ in 1QS 3.11-12; 8.16-17). Nevertheless, the very fact that there are those ‘in Israel’ (e.g., 1QS 6.13) or ‘of Israel’ (e.g., CD 4.2; 6.4-5; 8.16) who repent implies without doubt that ‘Israel’ must also include others who do not (or not yet) – and who are by the same token clearly regarded as outsiders or even adversaries.40 Qumran’s restrictive definition of the covenant is in many ways typical of a sectarian mindset: despite their sometimes idiosyncratic and innovative beliefs and practices, embattled religious minorities not infrequently take the view that they themselves are the only surviving group that is faithful to the letter and the spirit of the original religious reality, and that they are the loyal standard bearers in a sea of apostates and renegades. The yah. ad itself is indeed at the heart of the covenant, while the adversaries even of their own nation are outside it and will be judged – a fate that awaits above all the Wicked Priest and his cohorts.41 Moreover, as we shall see below, 39. 1QM 13.7-9. See also the interpretation of Isa. 10.21ff. in the pesharim (‘many will die … but they will be saved’, 4Q161 2-6 ii 5-7; the survivors will be a small number, 4Q163 7+6 ii 12-19). 40. Note, however, Sanders’ observation (Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 249– 50) that while 1QM and 1QSa envisage a straightforward battle between ‘Israel’ and the Gentiles, 1QS and 1QH include among the enemies the non-sectarian Israelites. Sanders surmises that this is because 1QM and 1QSa concern the time of the eschatological war, when the sect will have become co-extensive with ‘Israel’. The boundary lines then are drawn unambiguously: Jewish enemies will either have been converted in the last days (so 1QSa 1.1-3, 6-9; cf. also Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 253–4 on 1QpHab 5.3-6) or else have become wholly absorbed among the Gentile enemies (so apparently 1QM 1.2, which contains the scroll’s only mention of Jewish apostates as ‘those who assist them (the sons of darkness) from among the wicked of the covenant’. The eschatological Israel appears to be comprised only of the three tribes of Levi, Judah, Benjamin (1QM 1.2; 3.15 par. 4papQMf 4.10.5), although this is not consistently maintained (contrast 1QM 2.1-2 (par. 4QMd 1.4-5); 3.14; 5.1; 6.11 pace Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 248). In any case only ‘Israel’ is saved, never any Gentiles. See further Katell Berthelot, ‘La notion de rg dans le textes de Qumrân’, RevQ 19 (1999), pp. 171–216, on Qumran’s apparent exclusion of gerim, noting CD as a possible exception. 41. Note e.g., 1QS 5.7-8; on the fate of the Wicked Priest see e.g., 1QpHab 8.8-12; 9.9-12.



Grace, Works and Destiny

241

an extensive late sectarian gloss in 1QS 5.11-13 suggests that outsiders of any sort were perhaps increasingly consigned to eternal damnation ‘without remnant’, a phrase reserved elsewhere for Gentile enemies and the more vaguely defined cohorts of Belial, Melkiresha and the Spirit of Deceit.42 Despite such late sectarian tendencies, however, there is in fact no systematic questioning of the notion that the community will be the vanguard of the nation, and that in it, or through it, God’s promises to all Israel will come to fulfilment. In the same way restrictive-sounding remnant language (e.g., Isa. 10.22) and universal redemption language (e.g., 45.25) can happily coexist within the biblical book of Isaiah; ‘all the house of Jacob’ and ‘the remnant of the house of Israel’ can be equated (46.3). As for every sectarian grouping (including early Christianity), the new movement’s relationship with the majority is fractious and ambivalent, holding together a belief in the judgement of all apostasy with an expectation of the comprehensive eschatological realisation of the promises for the greater whole – however that may turn out to be defined.43 Far from seeking to replace the ‘true’ historic Israel, the sect saw itself as the vanguard of its final redemption, ‘the house of truth in Israel’ (1QS 5.6) which would one day encompass all the sons of light. The beliefs and practices of the group are held to be true and valid not just for the Damascus Document, they are ‘the covenant for all Israel for an eternal law’ (CD 15.5; cf. 15.8-9 ‘the covenant oath which Moses established with Israel’). Similarly, the remnant is instrumental for ‘the covenant for Israel’, disclosing the laws in regard to which ‘all Israel’ had gone astray (CD 3.13-14).44 Such a wider eschatological perspective on the community’s relationship to ‘Israel’ may even be in view in the Rule of the Community, as for example when the community is described in representative terms as ‘a holy house for Israel’ l)r#yl #dwq tyb, whose task it is ‘to atone for the Land’ Cr)h d(b rpkl (1QS 8.5, 6, 10;45 cf. 5.6). Qumran’s primary vision continues to be that the yah. ad is God’s ‘remnant for the land’, which will grow and grow until it ‘fills the face of the world’ with its offspring (CD 2.11-12). In short, it seems clear that exclusive and inclusive understandings of election operate side by side in 1QS and other Qumran writings. A similar situation pertains in relation to other soteriological topics.

42. See CD 2.6-7; 1QH 14(=6).32; 1QM 1.6; 4.2; 14.5; 18.3; 4Q280 2.5; 4Q374 2 ii 4; also 1QS 4.14. 43. Cf. rightly Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 245: the sect ‘did not simply appropriate the title “Israel”. The members seem to have been conscious of … being a forerunner of the true Israel, which God would establish to fight the decisive war’. 44. As in Rom. 11.25-26, one can only interpret the community’s role here in strictly exclusivist terms by assuming that ‘Israel’ must mean two contradictory things in adjacent lines. 45. Note that this second occurrence of Cr)h d(b rpkl is an interlinear gloss.

242

This World and the World to Come

2.2.2. Voluntarism and predestination: the individual dimension In addition to its sectarian view of the chosen people as a whole being focused in the Qumran covenant, the Dead Sea Scrolls could be said to reflect a wider trend in late Second Temple Judaism (and the contemporary Mediterranean world) towards a more individualized understanding of religious affiliation and experience. Religious status and acceptance before God could no longer be simply taken for granted as a matter of course; instead, especially in the wake of the deeply divisive cultural and religious crisis of the Maccabean revolt and the increasing ethnic complexity of Palestine, a personal commitment to Jewish faith and praxis came to be of decisive importance (cf. e.g., 1 Macc. 1.11-15, 52-63; 2 Macc. 6.23; 8.1). This is perhaps particularly evident in certain sectarian texts like the Hodayot (e.g., 1QH 13(=5).5-13). The Qumran psalmist acknowledges that his righteousness is the gift of God’s righteousness, preordained from all eternity (note e.g., 4(=17).18-22; 5(=13).23; 6(=14).23-25; 7(=15).16-20). The writer freely confesses his own sinfulness and impurity (e.g., 9(=1).21-23; 12(=4).29, 34-36; 15(=7).16-19), which is atoned only by the righteousness of God (12(=4).37). At the same time, however, the concrete expression of piety and moral rectitude does appear to be a definitive mark that sets apart the believer from the unbeliever and, as a necessary token of covenant membership, is instrumental in his salvation: ‘I will not admit into the council [of your truth] someone distant from your covenant’ (6(=14).21f.). Inclusion and exclusion are not only clearly demarcated between people groups, but even within those categories they depend fundamentally on one’s personal conversion, in faith and praxis, to the life of the Qumran covenant. Such personal faith commitment, or lack of it, singularly determines one’s standing before God in the final reckoning. In the Damascus Rule this perspective may even determine the membership of children born to sectarians. No underage child may enter the congregation (CD 15.18 = 4QDb 17 i 8); the children of novices must, like other members, attain the appointed minimum age before they can ‘pass over to the mustered’ (15.15-16).46 This dimension is also very clear in the Rule of the Community. Thus the opening two sections make the voluntaristic definition of covenant membership quite explicit. Qumran welcomes ‘into the covenant of mercy’ those who leave all evil, forsake the stubbornness of their own hearts (2.25) and ‘freely devote themselves (Mybdnh) to carry out the statutes of God’ (1.7; cf. e.g., 3.8; 5.6, 13-14, 22). Qumran’s adherents are quite clearly regarded in the first instance as individually responsible rather than as members of particular tribes or families. This is a perspective which finds confirmation in Josephus on the Essenes (e.g., War 2.134) and in the Essene practice of individual burial, documented both at the Dead Sea and near Jerusalem.47 46. Cf. 1QSa 1.8-9, where that minimum age is set at 20. I am grateful to Dr C. Hempel for drawing my attention to the significance of these passages. 47. See, e.g., R. Hachlili, ‘Burials’, ABD, pp. 1.792–93; Amos Kloner and Yosef Gat, ‘Burial Caves in the Region of East Talpiyot’, Atiqot (Hebr. Series) 8 (1982), pp. 74–6; Hanan Eshel and Zvi Greenhut, ‘Hiam el-Sagha, A Cemetery of the Qumran Type,



Grace, Works and Destiny

243

Those who belong to the covenant are only those who ‘choose the path, each one according to his spirit’ (1QS 9.17-18). No one is born into this covenant.48 To become members, the sectarians are individually examined for two years as to the soundness of their understanding and lifestyle (6.1323; cf. Josephus, War 2.137-38). Just as individuals choose to become members of the community, so individuals can become apostate from it. This is evident as early as the Damascus Document, where the problem of backsliding within the sect seems consistently to concern individuals rather than the group as a whole.49 In the Rule of the Community backsliders are still viewed as a phenomenon of wilful individual disobedience. Thus, in discussing the annual ceremony of covenant renewal the document states quite categorically, ‘anyone who declines to enter [the covenant of Go]d in order to walk in the stubbornness of his heart … shall not be righteous qdcy )wl’ (2.25–3.3). Such persons will be rejected as unclean, and excluded from divine atonement until they repent and turn from wickedness (3.4-9; 5.14; cf. 10.20-21; CD 2.4-5).50 In the Hodayot, the psalmist takes for granted that God ‘forgives those who turn away from sin and … punishes the depravity of the wicked’ (1QH 6(=14).24); 1QH 25 v 13 offers an even more laconic description of the final judgement as intended to ‘pronounce the righteo[us man right]eous and sent[ence the guilty …]’.51 This clear emphasis on the condemnation of the wicked also recurs in some texts of less evidently sectarian origin. The so-called Hymn to Zion seems to deny the possibility of being saved in iniquity (11QPsa 22.9-10=4QPsf 8.3-4), while the apocryphal Psalm 154 affirms that ‘the Lord’s eyes have pity on good people’ (11QPsa 18.16). A casual observer might be tempted to conclude from all this individualism that the Qumran community held to a straightforwardly merit-based understanding of salvation, not unlike the strictly legalistic position sometimes assumed to lie behind 4 Ezra, where only perfect individual righteousness

Judaean Desert’, RB 100 (1993), pp. 252–9 (256–8); cf. further Markus Bockmuehl, ‘“Let the Dead Bury their Dead” (Matt 8:22/Luke 9:60): Jesus and the Halakah’, JTS 49 (1998), pp. 553–81 (560 n. 31). On the subject of the afterlife, the silence of the Rule and other sectarian texts leaves uncertain to what extent the Qumran community believed in a general resurrection: 4Q385 and 4Q521, if sectarian, seem to be somewhat exceptional in this regard. Nevertheless, the community clearly did affirm a belief in some form of heavenly life after death. See e.g., John J. Collins, Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls (London/New York: Routledge, 1997), pp. 110–29; Philip R. Davies, ‘Death, Resurrection, and Life after Death in the Qumran Scrolls’, in Judaism in Late Antiquity, Part 4: Death, Life-after-Death, Resurrection and the World-to-Come in the Judaisms of Antiquity (eds A. J. Avery-Peck and J. Neusner; HO, 1.49.4; Leiden: Brill, 2000), pp. 189–211. 48. So rightly Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 260. 49. See e.g., CD 8.1-2, 19; 19.13-14. 50. See further, 1QS 2.12-18; 7.18-21; 8.16-25, etc. 51. Cf. similarly the Song of the Sage, 4Q511 63-64 iii 3-4; 4QDb 18 v 11-14.

244

This World and the World to Come

will ensure salvation at the judgement (e.g., 7.104-15, 127-31) and God is unconcerned about those who sin (7.20-22; 8.37-39).52 As E. P. Sanders rightly noted, however, Qumran’s assumptions about election are remarkably complex and do not necessarily lend themselves to a systematic analysis.53 Against its starkly voluntaristic dimension must be set a number of balancing considerations, including a strong doctrine of predestination.54 According to the Rule of the Community, the fate of both the just and the wicked is foreordained in detail by God himself (1QS 3.21– 4.1; cf. e.g., CD 2.7-11); ‘before they existed he made all their plans and … they will execute all their works … according to his glorious design without altering anything’ (3.15-16). God’s dual predetermination of both the good and the evil governs Qumran’s soteriology: salvation is for his chosen ones and judgement for the others. Nothing happens outside his control and purpose (e.g., 1QS 11.11, 17-18). This doctrine of predestination is one of the features highlighted in Josephus’s account of the Essenes (e.g., Ant. 13.172), and it comes into its own especially in the Qumran Hodayot (e.g., 1QH 9[=1].8, 19-20; 18[=10].9; 7[=15].13-19). Salvation, on this view, could never be a matter of human merit. The covenanters do not know themselves elect by their works but, on the contrary, their works bear witness to their election. God has ‘caused them to inherit the lot of the Holy Ones’ (1QS 11.7-8), ‘caused them to draw near’ to the covenant (so 1QS 11.13; cf. 1QH 6(=14).13). It is his agency that supremely determines a person’s standing, and which underwrites human choice in the first place. Although Josephus suggests that it was the Pharisees who held divine providence and human free will in a fine balance (War 2.162f.; Ant. 13.172; cf. m. ‘Abot 3.19), in these texts we do in fact find a comparable coexistence of these two theological topoi in tension. Here lies the paradox of Qumran’s view of salvation: although the sons of light freely choose to belong to the covenant and thus to be saved, the very fact that they do so is itself an expression of the overruling grace of God, whose sovereign design disposes over both the saved and the damned. At the same time, even the sect’s evident determinism in relation to historical and cosmological events serves fundamentally only to reinforce and confirm this eternal predestination of the elect.55 52. For an assessment of 4 Ezra as nevertheless located in some relation to the mainstream of the Yavnean rabbinic movement, see recently Bruce W. Longenecker, ‘Locating 4 Ezra: A Consideration of its Social Setting and Functions’, JSJ 28 (1997), pp. 271–93. 53. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 265–6. 54. Cf. e.g., Armin Lange, Weisheit und Prädestination: Wisheitliche Urordnung und Prädestination in den Textfunden von Qumran (STDJ, 18; Leiden: Brill, 1995), idem, ‘Wisdom and Predestination in the Dead Sea Scrolls’, DSD 2 (1995), pp. 340–54; Eugene H. Merrill, Qumran and Predestination: A Theological Study of the Thanksgiving Hymns (STDJ, 8; Leiden: Brill, 1975). 55. Lichtenberger, Studien zum Menschenbild in den Texten der Qumrangemeinde, pp. 186–7.



Grace, Works and Destiny

245

2.2.3. ‘Righteousness’ and justification Our remarks thus far have taken a deliberately broad approach, so as not to tie our understanding of Qumran’s view of salvation too closely to the terminology of ‘righteousness’ and ‘justification’ that has dominated the debate about Pauline and early Christian notions of grace and salvation at least since the Reformation. Nevertheless, the Rule of the Community and other texts do repeatedly employ the forensic terminology of justice and righteousness in such words as hqdc, qdc, and +p#m, all of which describe different nuances of a quality that is ultimately defined in relation to the character of God. Thus qdc is here best viewed as the quality of that which is right and pleasing to God, while hqdc is an action in keeping with that quality.56 At the same time, however, the notion of ‘the righteousness of God’ describes a quality that characterizes God, is exclusively constituted by him, and comes to be revealed in his historic and eschatological acts of salvation.57 This common Qumran conviction also corresponds closely with Deutero-Isaianic views, where divine righteousness and salvation are similarly linked (cf. e.g., Isa. 51.5-8; 56.1).58 In particular, the ‘righteous deeds of God’ (l) twqdc) are his saving actions in Israel’s past (1QS 1.21; 10.23; cf. 1QH 4.17), but the manifestation of his righteousness also characterizes the eschaton. God’s eschatological victory brought about by his ‘righteous acts’ past and future is the key to the sect’s understanding of salvation, as O. Betz among others has carefully documented.59 Perhaps the clearest account of what one might call Qumran’s ‘doctrine of justification’ appears in 1QS 10–11, which is partly paralleled in 4QSj. It is remarkable to note how this passage presumes a consistently forensic context with an emphasis on the individual – i.e., perhaps the Maskîl in the first instance, although the language seems clearly intended to be read in paradigmatic fashion. Here, then, the individual offers a remarkable confession of his own sinfulness and inadequacy – qualities that he accepts as characteristic of the human condition and altogether outside his power to change. ‘Man cannot establish his own steps, for to God belong judgement (+p#m) and perfection of way’ (1QS 9.10; cf. 1QH 7(=15).16); ‘no-one is righteous in your judgement, or innocent at your trial’ (1QH 17(=9).14f.). 56. Cf. further, Betz, ‘Rechtfertigung in Qumran’, pp. 18–19 with numerous references, which could now be extended in view of the subsequently published texts: see especially 4QMMT 117 (=C 31). Cf. also 11QTemple 57.13, 19 of a human judge. 57. See e.g., 1QH 6(=14).15-16; CD 20.19-21; cf. e.g., 1Q27 1.i.5-7 par. 4Q300 3.56. Despite the almost ‘metaphysical’ role played by God’s righteousness in the eschatological narrative of salvation, and poetic texts like 1QM 17.7-8 notwithstanding, I remain to be persuaded of the argument (e.g., of J. M. Baumgarten, ‘The Heavenly Tribunal and the Personification of Sedeq in Jewish Apocalyptic’, ANRW II 19.1 (1979), pp. 219–32; and Roy Rosenberg, ‘Sedeq as Divine Hypostasis in Qumran Texts and its Link to the Emergence of Christianity’, in Mogilany 1993: Papers on the Dead Sea Scrolls (Fs. Z. J. Kapera; Krakóv: Enigma Press, 1996), pp. 109–27) that qdc at Qumran is best viewed as a personified ‘hypostasis’. 58. Cf. Betz, ‘Rechtfertigung in Qumran’, pp. 23–4. 59. See Betz, ‘Rechtfertigung in Qumran’, pp. 20–5.

246

This World and the World to Come

This appeal to the human condition is employed not in order to excuse the believer’s sin but rather to underscore the exclusively divine constitution of righteousness and forgiveness. In fact, it is specifically through God’s righteous character and righteous acts that sins can be forgiven: As for me, in God is my judgement (+p#m); in his hand is the perfection of my path and the uprightness of my heart; and by his righteous acts (wtwqdcb)60 he will cancel my transgression … From the fountain of his righteousness is my judgement (y+p#m wtqdc rwqmmw) … And if I stumble, the mercies of God are my salvation for ever (dcl ytcw#y l) ydsx); and if I fall in guilt of the flesh, my judgement is by the righteousness of God (l) tqdcb) which endures eternally. (1QS 11.2-3, 5, 12)

God’s righteousness and his righteous acts, therefore, constitute the salvation and justification of the individual. This is a notion which finds an explicit parallel in the apocryphal psalms appended to the Biblical Psalter of Cave 11 (11QPsa 19.5, 7, 11 par. 11QPsb frag. a 6), and which recurs in a variety of different forms elsewhere. The Hodayot psalmist, for example, repeatedly makes the point that righteousness to cleanse from sin is solely in God’s gift to bestow, and cannot be attained by human effort (e.g., 1QH 4(=17).17-20; 7(=15).16-20; 12(=4).37; 19(=11).30-32).61 60. We would expect wytwqcb. The unusual defective spelling is most likely due to a simple error of omission, perhaps parablepsis due to what would have been a triple succession of waw and yod, letters which are almost identical here, as frequently elsewhere in 1QS (but cf. P. Wernberg-Møller, ‘Waw and Yod in the “Rule of the Community” (1QS)’, RevQ (1960), pp. 223–36). Seifrid’s proposed reading ytwqdc (Justification by Faith, pp. 100–3), by contrast, somewhat implausibly introduces the otherwise unattested idea of an individual atoning for his own sins by acts of righteousness (cf. also Justification by Faith, pp. 94–5, and passim). The proposed form is not attested either at Qumran or in the Hebrew Bible. What is more, the context repeatedly denies human righteousness, and stresses instead that it is only God’s righteousness (qdc) and righteous acts (hqdc sg. and pl.) that are instrumental to salvation (e.g., 10.11, 23 (l) twqdcw), 25; 11.5, 6, 12 (l) tqdcb), 14, 15); contrast the prayer that God will subsequently go on to establish the justified psalmist’s own ways in that same righteousness (qdc, 11.16). The notion of God’s saving righteous acts (twqdc) as instrumental in averting his wrath over human sin appears in very similar fashion e.g., in 11QPsa 19.5, 7, 11 par. 11QPsb frag. a 6. In each of these cases the psalmist pleads with God to perform again his definitive saving acts in keeping with his past acts. (Cf. e.g., Dan. 9.16 and note the analogous eschatological revelation of God’s dikaiw&mata in Rev. 15.4.) It is worth pointing out that the Scrolls nowhere use the plural twqdc of actual human deeds of righteousness. An interesting counterexample to prove the rule may be present in 1QH 15(=7).17f.: ‘I have no fleshly refuge, nor righteous deeds (twqdc) to be delivered from s[in, ex]cept through forgiveness’. See further Isa. 64.5; Dan. 9.18 (cf. Isa. 45.24) for the inadequacy of human twqdc (pl.), although some OT texts at least imply a somewhat more positive usage (e.g., Isa. 33.15; Jer. 51.5; Ezek. 18.24 and 33.13 (both Qere’, v.l.)). 61. The same idea may have remarkably concrete implications for the eschatology of the War Scroll, where ‘God’s righteousness’ (l) qdc) is among the slogans written on the battle standards of the Sons of Light (1QM 4.6). The Sons of Light are also called ‘sons of righteousness’ (e.g., 1QM 1.8), and 1QM 17.8 may suggest that this should be understood of the divine qdc personified: ‘righteousness will rejoice in the heights, and all the sons of his truth will have joy in eternal knowledge’. Cf. 4Q163 23.8 ‘This is why the Lord waits to take pity on you, this is why he rises to be lenient with you. For YHWH is a god of righteousness’.



Grace, Works and Destiny

247

Thus, the Serekh’s view of justification clearly rides on a cosmic order of God’s righteousness whose revelation constitutes both the final salvation of his people and the final destruction of the forces of darkness.62 The revelation of that righteousness, moreover, does not depend on either the predicament or the achievements of believers,63 but is determined solely by God himself. 2.2.4. Sin and atonement In keeping with what we have discovered thus far, it is clear that the Qumran sect combined a remarkable recognition of the universality of sin with a keen awareness of the fact that atonement rests with God alone. ‘All the sons of your truth you take to forgiveness in your presence, you purify them from their sins by the greatness of your goodness, and in your bountiful mercy, to make them stand in your presence for ever and ever’ (1QH 15(=7).30f.). And in keeping with what we discovered in the previous section, God himself here atones for sin through his righteousness (1QH 12(=4).37). Within the Serekh ha-Yah. ad, too, atonement is initially said to be the work of God (1QS 11.3,64 14) or of his Spirit (1QS 3.6-8); and while CD usually also makes God the agent of atonement,65 there is one significant passage in which the Messiah will atone for sin.66 What is more, as Garnet and Lichtenberger have pointed out, the language of atonement varies considerably and its implied setting can be either cultic or non-cultic.67 At the same time, however, we have already seen the tendency in many of these same texts to make it quite clear that atonement for sin is not available for the unrepentant and for those outside the community. Thus, atonement for sins is an act of God for believers: God does not atone for the sins of Belial’s lot (2.8). Sanders rightly points out that where it applies to members of the covenant, sin is always understood in terms of human actions rather than as a power that holds people in bondage. Sinfulness as such is merely part of the universal condition of human frailty, to which the believer also belongs; the sins of repentant believers do not affect their standing within

62. Cf. similarly 1QH 25 v 1-13. 63. So rightly Betz, ‘Rechtfertignung in Qumran’, p. 21, who further notes the close relationship between God’s ‘righteousness’ and God’s ‘truth’ (p. 23). See e.g., 1QS 4.20; 1QH 19(=11).7, etc.; cf. T. Gad 3.1; Rom. 3.4-5. 64. See, however, n. 60 above on the alternative reading of this passage proposed by Seifrid, Justification by Faith. 65. E.g., CD 2.4f.; 3.18; 4.6-7; 20.34. 66. 4QDb 18 iii 12 has supplied the lacuna in CD 14.19. Cf. also Joseph M. Baumgarten, ‘Messianic Forgiveness of Sins in CD 14.19 (4Q266 i.12-13)’, in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Technological Innovations, New Texts, and Reformulated Issues (eds D. W. Parry and E. Ulrich; STDJ, 30; Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 535–44, who sees this as part of a Qumran tendency to assign divine functions to ‘surrogate personifications’ like the Messiah, Melkizedek, etc. 67. Garnet, Salvation and Atonement in the Qumran Scrolls, pp. 57–80; Lichtenberger, ‘Atonement and Sacrifice in the Qumran Community’, with references.

248

This World and the World to Come

the covenant. 68 Even members of the community are led astray by the angel of darkness (1QS 3.21-23), and they are bound to sin as long as they live: ‘we are in sin from the womb, and from the breast in gu[ilt …] And while we exist, our steps are impurity’ (4Q507 1.1-3; cf. 1QH 12(=4).29f.; 1QS 11.9f.). The difference is that they have access to atonement for their sins, while outsiders do not. This being so, however, it seems understandable that Serekh ha-Yah. ad should come to view priestly atonement for sin as located exclusively within the remit of the sect. As we shall see below, one can in fact document an increasing trend in this direction in the development of salvation language at Qumran. For now, it may suffice briefly to indicate the full-fledged affirmations to this effect in 1QS. The yah. ad atones for all those who join it (5.5-6); it will be accepted to atone for the land (8.10), ‘for all the fault of transgression and the guilt of sin’ (9.3). The notion of an atonement for the land that has been polluted may already be anticipated in Num. 35.33 and Deut. 32.43.69 More interestingly, perhaps, the penitential liturgy entitled ‘Words of the Luminaries’ suggests that as Moses atoned for rebellious Israel in the desert, so now ‘we atone for our sin and the sin of our fathers’ (4Q504 1-2 ii 9-10, vi 5-6; 4.5-7). This atonement is explicitly said to operate outside the sacrificial cult; it serves either to replace it or, perhaps more likely in view of 11QT and 4QMMT, to function in deliberate analogy to it.70 The community’s worship here becomes the ‘pleasant aroma of righteousness’; its perfection of behaviour will be as a freewill offering; and some scholars have gone so far as to see two disputed passages (1QS 9.3-6; cf. 8.5-6) as evidence of the yah. ad itself taking on the role of the Temple’s inner sanctuary or ‘Holy of Holies’.71 68. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 275–6, 278–9. 69. Cf. further, Josh. 22.19; Zech. 13.2; Ezra 9.11; Ps. 106.38. 70. Non-cultic or quasi-cultic atonement for sin, especially through contrition and repentance, seems to have biblical antecedents in passages like Num. 25.13; Isa. 27.9; Pss. 50.23; 51.17; 65.3; 78.38; 79.8-9; Prov. 16.6; Dan. 9.24. 71. So e.g., Bertil Gärtner, The Temple and the Community in Qumran and the New Testament (SNTSMS, 1; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1965), pp. 26–7, 29; Georg Klinzing, Die Umdeutung des Kultus in der Qumrangemeinde und im Neuen Testament (SUNT, 7; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1971), pp. 55, 69; and more recently Otto Betz, ‘Jesus and the Temple Scroll’, in Jesus and the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. J. H. Charlesworth; ABRL; New York: Doubleday, 1992), pp. 75–103 (95); Johann Maier, Die Qumran-Essener: Die Texte vom Toten Meer (3 vols; Munich/Basle: Reinhardt, 1995–96), p. 1.190 and n. 517; Hartmut Stegemann, Die Essener, Qumran, Johannes der Täufer und Jesus: Ein Sachbuch (Freiburg: Derder, 4th edn, 1994), p. 229. This identification is, however, disputed, and most recent translations rightly avoid it. For the theme of the yah. ad as Temple see e.g., Gärtner, The Temple and the Community in Qumran; Klinzing, Die Umdeutung des Kultus in der Qumrangemeinde; Devorah Dimant, ‘4QFlorilegium and the Idea of the Community as Temple’, in Hellenica et Judaica (Fs. Valentin Nikiprowetzky; eds A. Caquot et al.; Leuven/Paris: Peeters, 1986), pp. 165–89; Michael O. Wise, ‘4QFlorilegium and the Temple of Adam’, RevQ 15 (1991), pp. 103–32, although it is clear from 11QTemple and 4QMMT that the sectarians continued to envisage the eventual restoration of the Temple



Grace, Works and Destiny

249

This important link between repentance and atonement also emerges in the sect’s characteristic observance of the Day of Atonement (Yom Kippur) as a penitential festival marked by self-mortification.72 Finally, it is also interesting to note Qumran’s significant connection of ritual purity with atonement for sins. This is quite clear in 1QS 3.3-9, where ritual washing is said to take place in the sanctifying ‘waters of repentance’, and through the Holy Spirit to be effective for the atonement of sins. For the unrepentant, by contrast, these washings and acts of atonement remain ineffectual (3.3-4; cf. 5.13f.). The liturgical application of these beliefs can be seen in 4Q414 and 4Q512; the latter in particular explicitly links purification with atonement (29-32 vii 9-10). For the Qumran community, therefore, atonement for sin remains the prerogative of God himself. Its appropriation, however, is possible only to repentant members of the sect, since its sacrificial locus comes to be situated very specifically in the worship and praxis of the yah. ad.73 2.3. Developments in the soteriology of Serekh Ha-Yah. ad74 Almost all our deliberations up to this point have proceeded on the assumption that 1QS represents for all practical purposes the complete and definitive version of the Rule of the Community. This assumption certainly simplifies interaction with previous scholarship on Qumran’s view of salvation, which almost universally took it for granted. It has long been recognized, however, that 1QS as it stands must be the result of a considerable textual development. As long as 30 years ago scholars were proposing and debating elaborate theories about the document’s

and even held specific halakhic views on current practices in the existing Temple. See also 1QM 2.3; 7.11; and cf. Lichtenberger (‘Atonement and Sacrifice’, idem, ‘Enderwartung und Reinheitsidee’) on the eschatological expectation; and note the more positive statements about the Temple cult in CD 9.13-14; 11.17-21; 16.13-14. 72. See Joseph M. Baumgarten, ‘Yom Kippur in the Qumran Scrolls and Second Temple Sources’, DSD 6 (1990), pp. 184–91. 73. It is worth briefly noting 1QS 8.1-4, which mentions the Community Council’s ‘paying for guilt’: lwk M( Klhthl Prcm trcw +p#m y#w(b Nww( tcrlw. One popular reading has been to assume that the council members atone for the sins of the community by means of their suffering (see e.g., Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 326–7 and the scholars cited there; Seifrid, Justification by Faith, p. 95; Charlesworth, The Dead Sea Scrolls, p. 1.35). However, the Hebrew of this passage (paralleled in 4QSe 2.10) is by no means clear, and García Martínez’s translation of the following phrase seems equally possible: ‘doing justice and undergoing trials in order to walk with everyone …’. It certainly seems precipitous to see here positive evidence of a ‘suffering servant’ motif, as Sanders does. 74. For a more detailed version of the redactional analysis offered in this section, see Markus Bockmuehl, ‘Redaction and Ideology in the Community Rule (1QS/4QS)’, RevQ 18 (1998), pp. 541–60.

250

This World and the World to Come

textual genesis.75 These tended to revolve around the suggestion that 1QS 8–9 represents the original pre-sectarian core of the Rule, to which other material including the liturgical columns 1-4 and the concluding psalm of columns 10-11 was added later. No clear resolution of this question was achieved at the time, and the composition and redactional history of the Community Rule continues to be debated in contemporary scholarship. However, the public release of ten additional manuscripts and fragments from Cave 4 (along with one from Cave 5, previously published) has helped in the 1990s to shed a good deal of fresh light on this ongoing debate, which turns out to have significant consequences for our perception of Qumran’s view of human redemption. 2.3.1 Notes on the redaction history of Serekh Ha-Yah. ad The manuscript containing 1QS was most probably copied in the first half of the first century bc, although subsequent scribal corrections especially in 1QS 7–8 suggest further textual developments in the later first century. Considerable further copying continued throughout the Herodian period, including the important MSS 4QSb,d. None of the Cave 4 MSS, however, has produced any evidence that columns 5-7 and/or 8-9 ever existed as separate entities;76 indeed it has recently been suggested that far from being early, most of 1QS 8 and 9 are secondary additions.77 One of the most difficult questions is the relative dating of 1QS, especially vis-à-vis 4QSb,d, and this turns out to be of some significance for our topic. Did the Rule of the Community develop from a text resembling 4QSb,d in the direction of that represented in 1QS, or vice versa? Simply put, the implication would be either that of a relatively lay-oriented renewal movement becoming increasingly authoritarian under explicit Zadokite governance, or else a development in the opposite direction. The soteriological implications are not insignificant. An answer to this question, however, is significantly complicated by the fact that the two key Cave 4 MSS represent a considerably shorter text type, but have been palaeographically dated by F. M. Cross78 about 50 years later 75. See esp. J. Murphy-O’Connor, ‘La genèse littéraire de la Règle de la Communauté’, RB 76 (1969), pp. 528–49; and J. Pouilly, La Règle de la Communauté de Qumrân: son évolution littéraire (CahRB, 17; Paris: Gabalda, 1976), who closely follows the former’s literary analysis of four stages in the genesis of 1QS. For a survey of scholarship prior to the public availability of the Cave 4 fragments, see Robert A. Gagnon, ‘How did the Rule of the Community Obtain its Final Shape? A Review of Scholarly Research’, JSP 10 (1992), pp. 61–79. 76. So also Metso, Textual Development, p. 108. 77. Metso, Textual Development, pp. 117–19. 78. See F. M. Cross, ‘The Palaeographical Dates of the Manuscripts’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations. Vol. 1. Rule of the Community and Related Documents (eds J. H. Charlesworth, et al.; PTSDSSP, 1; Tübingen: Mohr (Siebeck)/Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1994), p. 57; cf. idem, ‘The Development of the Jewish Scripts’, in The Bible and the Ancient Near East (ed. G. E. Wright; London: Routledge, 1961), pp. 132–202.



Grace, Works and Destiny

251

than 1QS (a date which is widely accepted, and seems to be confirmed by Carbon 14 testing79). The present study has no space and indeed no need for a detailed assessment of this complex subject matter, which I have attempted to address more fully elsewhere.80 Suffice it to say that three main options have been proposed. (1) The texts may not be not directly related, and perhaps served different purposes.81 If there was some sort of development between them, this could presuppose either (2) the relative priority of 1QS over 4QSb,d, in keeping with the chronological sequence of the MSS,82 or else (3) the opposite development of 1QS out of an earlier text form represented in 4QSb,d.83 (Option 1 could in theory be held in conjunction with either one of the other two, although obviously not both.) The most likely solution on balance seems to be (3), which is in some ways the simplest reconstruction and would recognize the likelihood that constitutional texts of this kind tend, rather like the Pentateuch and certain rabbinic or gospel traditions, to undergo successive emendation and augmentation rather than simplification and cutting.84 The question as to why earlier text forms such as 4QSb,d should continue to be copied after the completion of 1QS is obviously far from trivial;85 but it is worth bearing in mind that the same phenomenon of authoritative writings preserved in multiple text types is very clearly present in the biblical manuscripts from Qumran. In practice, of course, day-to-day authority for the sect ultimately resided not in a given text form but in the person of the Maskîl.

79. Cf. Philip S. Alexander, ‘The Redaction History of Serekh Ha-Yah. ad: A Proposal’, RevQ 17 (1996), pp. 437–56 (450). 80. See Bockmuehl, ‘Redaction and Ideology of the Community Rule’. 81. So e.g., Philip R. Davies, Behind the Essenes: History and Ideology in the Dead Sea Scrolls (BJS, 94; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987); James H. Charlesworth and Brent A. Strawn, ‘Reflections on the Text of Serek Ha-Yah. ad found in Cave I’, RevQ 17 (1996), pp. 403–35. 82. So especially Alexander, ‘The Redaction-History of Serekh Ha-Yah. ad’; cf. Paul Garnet, ‘Cave 4 MS Parallels to 1QS 5.1-7. Towards a Serekh Text History’, JSP 15 (1997), pp. 67–78. Note that Philip S. Alexander and Geza Vermes (eds), Qumran Cave 4, Vol. 19: Serekh Ha-Yah. ad and Two Related Texts (DJD, 26; Oxford: Clarendon, 1998), pp. 9–12, do not reach an agreed resolution (see p. 9 n. 22). 83. Vermes, ‘Preliminary Remarks’; idem, ‘Qumran Forum Miscellanea I’, JJS 43 (1992), pp. 300–1; idem, ‘The Leadership of the Qumran Community: Sons of Zadok – Priests – Congregation’, in Geschichte – Tradition – Reflection (Fs. Martin Hengel; ed. H. Cancik, et al.; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996), 1.375-84; Charlotte Hempel, ‘Comments on the Translation of 4QSd I,1’, JJS 44 (1993), pp. 127–8; idem, ‘The Earthly Essene Nucleus of 1QSa’, DSD 3 (1996), pp. 253–69; Metso, Textual Development, p. 146; cf. also A. I. Baumgarten, ‘The Zadokite Priests at Qumran: A Reconsideration’, DSD 4 (1997), pp. 137–56. 84. I am indebted to Dr W. Horbury for this observation. In gospel studies, the socalled Griesbach hypothesis of Mark as an abbreviator of Matthew and Luke has once again been much discussed in recent years, but without winning many converts. 85. So rightly Alexander, ‘The Redaction-History of Serekh Ha-Yah. ad’, p. 448.

252

This World and the World to Come

If we take the view that 1QS is indeed the later text form, textual comparison suggests some interesting observations on the community’s development, as apparently having originally been a relatively democratic renewal movement that grew more authoritarian and also came increasingly under the direct governance of its Zadokite priestly members. The notion of a period of heightened Zadokite emphasis may find indirect support in a number of other texts, including the so-called Midrash on Eschatology,86 which distinguishes between those who originally ‘turn aside from the council of the wicked’ and ‘the sons of Zadok and the men of his council … who will come after them to the council of the community’.87 So also we find in the scroll containing 1QS (5.2, 9) along with the Messianic Rule (1QSa 1.2, 24; 2.3) and Blessings (1QSb 3.22) consistent signs of a preoccupation with Zadokite authority. The opposite hypothesis of a secondary removal of Zadokite primacy would need to account for the absence of any anti-Zadokite sentiment in the later documents. The Zadokite emphasis, therefore, is likely to be a later superimposition.88 It may have plausibly arisen in the aftermath of the Hasmonean usurpation of the Zadokite High Priesthood: the archaeological record at Qumran certainly suggests that the settlement appears to have expanded precisely during the ruthless persecutions under Alexander Jannaeus (103–76 bce),89 just when our scroll from Cave 1 was most likely copied. It seems in any case plausible that a renewal movement of Qumran’s convictions might increasingly stress the importance of Zadokite status the more a succession of illegitimate incumbents in Jerusalem was perceived to degenerate into corruption. My argument here will tentatively proceed on this assumption of 1QS as the latest form of the text, but in view of the uncertain evidence the 86. See above, n. 6 for this nomenclature. 87. 4Q174 1-3 i 14-17; cf. the reference in the Isaiah pesher 4Q163 22.3. 88. So also Davies, Behind the Essenes, pp. 56–72, although he then concluded, as yet without access to the Cave 4 MSS, that scholarship ‘must stop talking Zadokite’ altogether (p. 71). He would also appear on pp. 64–5 to dismiss somewhat hastily the evidence for a consistent redaction of 1QSa and QSb in the same scroll. It is worth noting the possibility that this increasing Zadokite emphasis may have gone hand in hand with the group’s increasingly sectarian self-perception. Thus, Charlotte Hempel, The Laws of the Damascus Document: Sources, Tradition, and Redaction (STDJ, 29; Leiden: Brill, 1998), pp. 71–2, points out that unlike the specific rules governing the community, the wider halakhah in CD appears to be traditional and does not as yet show any signs of redactional activity or polemics against outsiders. Pre-sectarian halakhah is similarly suggested for 4QMMT by Miguel Pérez Fernández, ‘4QMMT: Redactional Study’, RevQ 18 (1997), pp. 191–205. In 1QS, as we shall see, the Zadokite takeover appears to be accompanied by the development of a more stringently sectarian soteriology as well as principles of governance and discipline. Cf. further, the suggestion of Émile Puech, review of Metso, The Textual Development, in RevQ 18 (1998), pp. 448–53 (451), that the Teacher’s death may have occasioned the group’s reinforcement of its Zadokite identity and governance as a result of renewed reflection on its own history and origins. 89. Cf. e.g., John J. Collins, ‘Essenes’, ABD 2.626.



Grace, Works and Destiny

253

conclusion will also indicate the implications that the opposite view would have for Qumran’s understanding of salvation. 2.3.2 Redaction in 1QS 5 1QS 5–8 is now widely held to form part of the earliest core of the Community Rule,90 a section which is well attested in the two important manuscripts from Cave 4 (4QSb,d), mentioned earlier. Some of the most significant textual changes for our purposes affect column 5 of 1QS, a passage that now opens a major new section and at one time may well have constituted the beginning of the whole document, outlining the central principles around which the community is organized. A number of observations in the handling of this section suggest that the group’s self-understanding may have changed in a more clearly sectarian direction, stressing Zadokite authority and more rigorously enforced compliance with the ideals of the community. Within the confines of our present assignment, therefore, it seems justifiable to concentrate on 1QS 5. Beginning in 1QS 5.1, the original description of the ‘men of the Torah’ (hrwth y#n)) in 4QSb,d has become the more technical ‘men of the yah. ad’ (dxyh y#n)).91 Similarly, in 5.2-3 the simple term ‘the many’ (Mybrh) of 4QSb,d has been changed to ‘the multitude of the men of the yah. ad’ (dxyh y#n) bwr). While one should not over-interpret these changes, it is interesting that the selfidentifications of the community in these crucial opening lines have both been altered to reflect the more clearly sectarian term yah. ad 92 – a word which in 90. 4QSd clearly begins with the text of 1QS 5.1. See further Metso, Textual Development, pp. 37, 108–9; Alexander, ‘The Redaction-History of Serekh Ha-Yah. ad’, pp. 443–6; more cautiously Puech (see n. 88), p. 450. 91. The contrary position, viz. that 4QSd here carries the later reading, sometimes seeks support (so e.g., Garnet, ‘Cave 4 MSS Parallels to 1QS 5.1-7’, p. 78) in the twofold omission in 1QS 5.23-24 of the words ‘in the Torah’ after the phrase ‘and his works’. Although not likely due to a technical scribal error, this change seems hardly intelligible in terms of systematic redactional activity, since the full phrase hrwtb wy#(mw is happily used in 1QS 5.21 (cf. 6.18, etc.) and the words ‘of the Torah’ are, for example, added to ‘his counsel’ in 1QS 9.17. It would be worth considering whether the absolute use of the term ‘works’ might serve as a sort of technical term interchangeable with ‘works of the Law’, in which case the difference may have seemed inconsequential to a scribe working in haste. That, at any rate, is how the terminology seems to function in texts like 4QMMT (5 (=B 2) ‘the works’, 109 (=C 23), 113 (=C 27) ‘the works of the Torah’), in Paul (e.g., Rom. 3.20, 27-38; 4.2, 6), and in 4 Ezra (7.24, 77; 8.32f.). Cf. also the term ‘doers of Torah’, hrwth y#w(, in 1QpHab 7.11, 8.1, 12.4-5. On the subject of ‘works of the Law’ at Qumran as a halakhic concept important for the study of Paul, see David Flusser, ‘Die Gesetzeswerke in Qumran und bei Paulus’, in Geschichte – Tradition – Reflexion (Fs. Martin Hengel; ed. H. Cancik, et al.; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996), pp. 1.395–403; James D. G. Dunn, ‘4QMMT and Galatians’, NTS 43 (1997), pp. 147–53; and Michael Bachmann, ‘4QMMT und Galaterbrief, hrwth y#(m and ERGA NOMOU’, ZNW 89 (1998), pp. 91–113. 92. Note that although 1QM repeatedly uses the word Yah. ad (e.g., 1QM 13.11-12), it does not yet carry a sectarian meaning; cf. Jean Duhaime in Charlesworth, The Dead Sea Scrolls, 2.84.

254

This World and the World to Come

4QSb,d does not in this context occur until line 5.93 Although we shall see in line 9 that the pattern of redaction is not wholly consistent, the Cave 1 redactor’s general tendenz throughout is to enhance the sectarian flavour of the passage.94 Elsewhere in the Rule, the same words are, for example, twice inserted in 1QS 9.5-7. Still in line 2, 1QS adds the phrase ‘and acquiesce to the authority of the sons of Zadok, the priests who keep the covenant’ (Mynhwkh qwdc ynb yp l( tyrbh yrmw#). Here, then, to belong to the eschatological covenant now means to submit to the authority of the Zadokite priests within the sect.95 Although this change is unlikely to imply a definite change in the community’s authority structure, there can be little doubt of the implied change of emphasis.96 Further on this subject, an additional insertion in 5.5-6 suggests that this priest-centred sectarian yah. ad has now acquired for 1QS the status of an ‘eternal covenant’ that inherently ‘atones’ for its members (rpkl Mlw( tyrb, Ostracon 1 (KhQ 1), found at the perimeter wall of Khirbet Qumran in 1996, may well provide an important missing link between the sectarian Scrolls and the settlement itself. It appears to describe a novice’s transfer of his property to the yah. ad (line 8; see F. M. Cross and Esther Eshel, ‘Ostraca from Khirbet Qumran’, IEJ 47 (1997), pp. 17–28 (18–19, 28)). Although the initial reading of the ostracon was repeatedly questioned (e.g., P. R. Callaway, ‘A Second Look at Ostracon No. 1 from Khirbet Qumran’, QC 7 (1997), pp. 147–70; Norman Golb, ‘Qadmoniot and the “Yah. ad” Claim’, QC 7 (1997), pp. 171–3; F. H. Cryer, ‘The Qumran Conveyance: A Reply to F. M. Cross and E. Eshel’, SJOT 11 (1997), pp. 232–40; and Ada Yardeni, ‘Breaking the Missing Link’, BAR 24 (1998), pp. 44–7), Cross has more recently issued a careful rejoinder: see F. M. Cross and E. Eshel, ‘l. Khirbet Qumran Ostracon (Plate xxxiii)’, in Qumran Cave 4: XXVI (eds S. J. Pfann and P. S. Alexander; DJD, 36; Oxford: Clarendon, 2000), pp. 497–507. 93. Note, however, the unexpected change in 1QS 5.9 from ‘the men of the Yah. ad’ (dxyh y#n)) to ‘the men of their (sc. the Zadokites’) covenant’ (Mtyrb y#n)). But since the contextual stress on the yah. ad is already unmistakable, the reference to the Zadokite covenant simply reinforces the redactional Tendenz of 1QS (cf. similarly 9.2-3). The word ‘covenant’ (tyrb) is in any case another favourite word of this redactor, which he also inserts, for example, at 1QS 5.22. 94. Similarly see 5.21-22, where (compared to 4QS d) the Cave 1 redactor introduces an additional reference to the yah. ad (dxyb Mybdntmh, 5.21) and to the covenant (Mtyrbl dxyb bw#l Mybdntmh; 4QS g here may read even more simply tb#l dxy, i.e., lit. ‘to dwell together’). There are numerous other instances in this column and elsewhere in 1QS 5–9. 95. Charlesworth, The Dead Sea Scrolls, p. 1.19, suggests that this could in theory be a case of parablepsis in 4QSd. Instead, however, it agrees with other redactional trends in 1QS and should be seen as a clear Tendenz. Cf. also Metso, Textual Development, p. 84. 96. See further Vermes, ‘Preliminary Remarks’, pp. 254–5 and cf. Metso, Textual Development, p. 78; also Robert A. Kugler, ‘A Note on 1QS9:14: The Sons of Righteousness or the Sons of Zadok?’, DSD 3 (1996), pp. 315–20 (on the apparent redaction of 1QS 9.14), idem, ‘The Priesthood at Qumran: The Evidence of References to Levi and the Levites’, in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Technological Innovations, New Texts, and Reformulated Issues (eds D. W. Parry and E. Ulrich; STDJ, 30; Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 465–79 (on the Scrolls’ elevation of the Levites following the Zadokites’ alienation from the Jerusalem Temple). Cf. further, Frans du T. Laubscher, ‘The Zadokites Element in the Qumran Documents in the Light of CD 4:3’, JNSL 24 (1998), pp. 165–75.



Grace, Works and Destiny

255

lacking in 4QSb,d).97 This insertion further reinforces the desert community’s isolation from the central Temple cult, in confirming that theirs is the divinely appointed, definitive covenant for the eschaton98 which provides effective and sufficient atonement for all who join (cf. similarly 1QS 8.3-4, 9-10; 3.11, etc.). It is of course true that the Cave 4 MSS do offer hints both of the priestly emphasis and of atonement in the community elsewhere (e.g., 4QSd 2 ii 4-5, 7); and so the redactor’s intention may be merely to make more explicit what is already there. Nevertheless, it remains the case that 1QS 5.56 must represent a further redaction in this direction.99 In relation to our earlier discussion of the meaning of ‘Israel’, this same passage in 1QS 5.5-6 also shows signs of a potential narrowing in the definition of this term. Whereas 4QSb,d seem to assume that the community is in the process of formation within and on behalf of Israel (‘a foundation of truth for Israel, for all who devote themselves’), 1QS 5.5 has begun to shift the perspective in the direction of making the one co-extensive with the other: in apposition to ‘Israel’ we now find ‘the yah. ad of an eternal covenant, in order to atone for all who devote themselves’. We argued above that this absolute identification of ‘Israel’ with the yah. ad has still not been made explicit, and that the text of 1QS as it stands does not admit of clear conclusions. Nevertheless, close observation of the redactional changes does suggest a trend in an increasingly narrow and exclusivistic direction. Similar insertions of references to the yah. ad and to its atoning significance occur in 8.10, 12, 16. Following a further insertion in lines 6b-7 concerning penal discipline in the yah. ad, the scroll turns to the oath of entry into the ‘council of the yah. ad’ (=1QS 5.7-9). In 4QSb,d, this is described primarily as a penitential act of returning to all that has been revealed to the ‘men of the yah. ad’ from the Torah. In 1QS this repentance has become an act under public scrutiny of the community (Mybdntmh lwk yny(l); it has become an explicit oath (rs) t(wb#) and is set in a more comprehensively commandmentoriented context (hwc r#) lwkk100) as well as a more clericalized concept of community authority and interpretation. The revelation from the Torah is now said to have been given not to the community at large (the dxyh y#n)) but – consistent with 5.2-3 – to ‘the sons of Zadok, the priests who keep the covenant and seek his will’. Lest there be any uncertainty about the identity of the outsiders, lines 11–13 clearly reinforce the sectarian perspective by means of a long gloss on the instruction ‘to separate (ldbhl) from all the men of deceit’ (l. 10). These 97. Cf. the apposite observation of Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 241, on the phrase ‘their covenant’ as applying to the priestly leaders both here and in 1QS 6.19 (which has no extant parallel MS). 98. Note similarly 1QS 3.11-12; 4.22; and see below on 5.22. 99. Metso, Textual Development, p. 79, rightly surmises that while the addition of this highly charged theological phrase is understandable, its removal would be difficult to account for. 100. But see similarly, 1QS 1.3, 17; 3.10; 5.1, 22; 8.15, 21; 9.15, 24.

256

This World and the World to Come

people are identified as ‘those who walk in the way of wickedness’ who as such ‘will not be accounted in his [God’s] covenant’ (wtyrbb wb#xh )wl). They have failed to seek God through his laws in order to know both his ‘revealed’ will and the ‘hidden’ halakhic regulations, i.e., those that are specifically known to the sect; instead, they have sinned wantonly against the former and ignorantly against the latter.101 As a result, they incur God’s wrath and judgement in the curses of the covenant; his great eschatological judgements (Mylwdg My+p#m) will result in their ‘eternal destruction without a remnant’ (tyr# Ny)l Mlw( tlkl). Given our earlier observations about the view of the remnant at Qumran, this gloss may document a further hardening of perspectives vis-à-vis outsiders: instead of seeing itself as the remnant in Israel, around which others will rally in the eschaton, here the community seems to assert that there will be no remnant at all among the outsiders from whom they have separated. It is particularly worth contrasting this assertion with the more liberal attitude in 4QMMT, which still envisages an outside readership able to recognize and be persuaded by the truth of the sectarian position, obedience to which will be reckoned to them as righteousness – ‘for your good and that of Israel’.102 Finally, the tightening sectarian position is further illustrated in lines 13–16. A reference in 4QSb,d about the outsider’s (?) exclusion from the purity and the food of the community is extended by the redactor to apply to the sect’s concern for ritual washing, in a parallel to 1QS 3.3-6 (par. 4QSh, 4QpapSc): he asserts that ordinary ritual washing is ineffectual against impurity unless it is accompanied by repentance from wickedness. More specifically, 1QS asserts that to maintain its purity the community must keep far from the wicked, in explicit accordance with Exod. 23.7 and Isa. 2.22, and goes on to deny them any legal authority and any contact. Throughout this passage 1QS shows a heightened concern with the exclusion of unrepentant outsiders and perhaps of novices whose conversion is not genuine.103 The expansions in the remainder of column 5 primarily fill in the picture of observant, humble and truthful conduct within the community. Although generally illustrative of the enhanced emphasis on corporate discipline, the details do not add substantially to the present argument. 101. twlgnh/twrtsnh: see Deut. 29.28 and cf. note 38 above. 102. 4QMMT 117 (=C 31). See also above, p. 241 and note 42 of this volume on the changing identity of those condemned ‘without remnant’. 103. So Metso, Textual Development, p. 114. A trend towards harsher corporate discipline recurs elsewhere, too. 1QS 9.1-2 laboriously underscores that inadvertent offenders against the Torah must be banned from serving on the council of the community for two years, as if to ensure that no deliberate sinner shall be restored in this fashion. Note also the interlinear gloss at 7.8 which raises the original penalty for an unjustified grudge from ‘six months’ to ‘one year’. We seem here to have solid textual evidence of the sorts of developments in penal legislation which Murphy-O’Connor (‘La genèse littéraire’) once postulated on the basis of more limited sources. At least in these cases, the coexistence of stricter and more lenient legislation in 1QS (compare 6.24-25; 8.16b-19 with 8.22f., 9.1-2) seems then to be resolved in terms of a development in the direction of greater strictness.



Grace, Works and Destiny

257

A number of significant changes are found in columns 6–9. Here, it is worth noting just one more in 1QS 8.10, where an interlinear insertion explicitly affirms that the community ‘will be accepted to atone for the land and to decide judgement over wickedness; and there will be no more iniquity’. The notion that the community ‘atones for the land’ is previously found in 8.6; but since neither of the two parallel manuscript fragments from Cave 4 (4QSd,e) has extant attestation of the text here, we cannot be absolutely certain what was in the Vorlage of 1QS.104 Nevertheless, the interlinear additions here do underline the trend towards an enhanced sectarian emphasis, including the desert community’s self-conscious independence from the official Temple cult in Jerusalem. I have attempted to document these and other changes in 1QS 5–9 more fully elsewhere.105 The remainder of 1QS, too, contains material of considerable relevance to our topic, above all in column 11. Unfortunately the only available parallel to 1QS 11 is MS 4QSj, which deviates from the Cave 1 text primarily in showing a preference for defective rather than plene orthography. On balance it seems clear that the final psalm appended to the Rule was originally separate, as was perhaps 9.12-26a.106 2.3.3. Implications for Qumran’s view of salvation In the end, the significance of these observations should not perhaps be overrated: they are based on relatively limited evidence and do not greatly alter the picture of Qumran soteriology that we presented earlier. Although the priority of 4QSb,d seems to this writer a sound hypothesis, future research may still question it on the basis of superior argument or evidence, and thereby reverse the conclusions we must draw. It certainly remains the case that 1QS is a composite document which, when taken at face value, manifests signs both of a lenient theology of grace and of a strongly authoritarian vision of the covenant, and a tension between milder and stricter penal regulations. At the same time, what has become quite clear is that the manuscript tradition of the Community Rule did undergo significant changes, and that these changes may attest developments in Qumran’s overall understanding of theology and membership in the people of God. This alone is a significant correction of earlier views. Scholars in the past tended to ‘take their pick’ from this complex evidence, alternately stressing either the elements of grace or those suggesting a strict legalism. Sanders merely contemplated the possibility of development in passing, but then seemingly dismissed its relevance to the interpretation of 1QS in order to read discrepancies within 104. But contrast Charlesworth, The Dead Sea Scrolls, p. 1.35 n. 205, who makes the implausible claim that these supralinear additions are really just corrections of faulty copying. 105. See Bockmuehl, ‘Redaction and Ideology’. 106. See Metso, Textual Development, p. 119.

258

This World and the World to Come

the penal code as simultaneously valid for two different groups.107 As late as 1992 Seifrid, though largely critical of Sanders’ interpretation, explicitly declined to consider literary developments as indicative of changes in the sect’s soteriology.108 While such judgements were understandable in the absence of the evidence from Cave 4, the situation has now changed to the point where flat, achronic readings of doctrine can no longer be justified. If our redactional analysis of 1QS is correct, it suggests a tightening religious practice in which atonement and forgiveness were increasingly limited to the sect itself and religious authority is concentrated in the hands of Zadokite priests. The same point is reinforced by the eschatological vision of the Messianic Rule 1QSa (1.1-3, 23-25; 2.2f.) and in the Blessings of 1QSb (3.22-25), both of which were deliberately linked with 1QS by being included in the same scroll, and arguably subjected to a comparable proZadokite redaction.109 Several caveats are in order. First, with the obvious exception of the Zadokite emphasis, the effect of the redactional changes in 1QS is not so much to innovate as to reinforce and make more explicit certain tendencies of community doctrine and discipline that are already present in the earlier text forms. In most cases, the text bears witness to underlying trends and emphases rather than to radical change. Secondly, the redaction of 1QS is in any case rather haphazard; an emphasis on divine grace, for example, continued to coexist side by side with the more stringent views. In this respect Sanders’ observation that the Qumran sect’s views of predestination remain unsystematic110 must profitably be extended to its overall understanding of salvation. 3. Conclusion In this study we have approached Qumran’s understanding of salvation from the relatively narrow perspective of its development in the constitutional Rule of the Community. A fuller treatment of the subject would certainly need to offer systematic treatments of several other key texts. In particular, it would be worth conducting a similar redactional analysis for the soteriology of the Cave 1 and Cave 4 fragments of both the Damascus Document and 107. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 324–5. He assumes that, since it is a Rule, 1QS must be both consistent and valid in its entirety. 108. Seifrid, Justification by Faith, p. 82, who writes with reference to MurphyO’Connor, ‘La genèse littéraire’, and Pouilly, La Règle de la Communauté, ‘It is not clear that the progressive stages of the community … involve shifts in the basic soteriology adopted by the group.’ 109. On this point cf. also Alexander, ‘The Redaction-History of Serekh Ha-Yah. ad’, p. 438. Hempel, ‘The Earthly Essene Nucleus of 1QSa’, pp. 256–60 and passim, argues the case for a Zadokite recension of 1QSa. 110. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, pp. 265–6.



Grace, Works and Destiny

259

the War Scroll, documents which have been thought to reflect a somewhat earlier stage of the Qumran community. The War Scroll in particular seems in its Cave 1 version to manifest a clear sectarian redaction in several respects, as was already observed by C.-H. Hunzinger.111 Overall, our findings are not fundamentally incompatible with those reached in E. P. Sanders’ famous study of 1977: Qumran manifests an eschatological faith in which salvation and atonement for sins are not humanly earned but divinely granted by predestined election and membership in the life of the observant covenant community. Here, too, we might wish to question the heuristic usefulness of his philosophically and psychologically infelicitous bifurcation between ‘getting in’ and ‘staying in’;112 but this is a query best addressed to his project as a whole rather than to his treatment of Qumran in particular. The major points of disagreement between Sanders’ treatment and mine may be said to arise from more extensive primary sources and, partly as a result, from the availability of more discriminating analytical methods. The text base at our disposal has increased significantly over that available to Sanders 25 years ago; this in turn has led to greater clarity on some questions and cast doubt on others that once seemed clear. Sanders himself already recognized theological diversity in the Qumran material, but dismissed the notion of legal or theological development. Since then, however, scholars have discovered positive evidence for precisely such development in 1QS and other sectarian texts, while at the same time beginning to realize that a great many of the newly released Dead Sea Scrolls are in no significant sense sectarian at all. Much of what was found at Qumran turns out to be far more widely indicative of the diversity of Palestinian Judaism in the later Second Temple period. Herein hangs the suggestion that ‘Qumran religion’ may be at once less coherent and more peculiar than Sanders thought. First, the texts themselves manifest a number of fundamentally unresolved tensions. As it stands, salvation is on the one hand ‘legalistic’ both in its individualistic voluntarism and in its closely regimented corporate life; and yet it is the gift of divine grace alone, both objectively in regard to predestination and subjectively in the experience of the believer. The evidence itself now confirms that the intrinsically unsystematic soteriology of a central document like 1QS is due at least in some part to textual developments over a considerable length of time. Secondly, however, while the fact of diversity in the Scrolls in some ways invites more ready comparison with other elements in Palestinian Judaism, it also makes it more difficult to distil ‘the Qumran pattern of religion’ and then proceed to find, as Sanders does, that it is fundamentally the same as that of

111. Claus-Hunno Hunzinger, ‘Fragmente einer älteren Fassung des Buches Milhama aus Höhle 4 von Qumran’, ZAW 69 (1957), pp. 131–51; cf. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 251; J. Duhaime in Charlesworth, The Dead Sea Scrolls, p. 2.84. See also n. 88 above on the halakhah of the Damascus Document. 112. Cf. again, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 320.

260

This World and the World to Come

rabbinic literature.113 To be sure, Sanders is quite right to observe important particular similarities as well as a number of ‘striking differences and special emphases’114 between major sectarian texts and central documents of the later normative rabbinic Judaism. What is less clear today is whether such grand systemic comparison is still appropriate at least to the Qumran sources – and, perhaps more importantly, whether the parties concerned would have found it not just true in generalities but meaningful in practice to speak of ‘the same basic pattern of religion’. Time and space prevent the pursuit of several other interesting questions. It is particularly interesting that several sectarian documents stress the community’s existence ‘without a mediator’ between it and ‘the holy angels in their midst’.115 This consciousness of direct participation in angelic worship is considerably strengthened by the redemptive role of Melchizedek in 11QMelch, by the function of Michael and other angels in 1QM, and by the Angelic Liturgy 4QShirShabb. Such a sense of ‘unmediated’ contact with the angels, however, would be worth assessing in view of the apparently contrary move of concentrating power in Zadokite hands. Our study is therefore only a beginning, and limited in scope. Nevertheless, it has served to show that the Qumran community had a strongly covenantal understanding of the salvation of Israel as centred in its own covenant community. Membership in the covenant of God was characterized both by a strong individual voluntarism and by an all-embracing doctrine of divine predestination. The community combined a strong sense of the sinfulness of all humanity with a belief in divine grace to the believer as the only means of salvation. The texts manifest an uneasy coexistence of the belief that atonement for sins remains emphatically an act of God with other statements that the faith and life of the community, and of its priestly leaders in particular, is in some sense instrumental to that atonement. If the direction of my redactional analysis is correct, we might have in Qumran a developing example of the sort of exclusivistic preoccupation with ‘works of the law’ against which Paul of Tarsus subsequently reacts in his letters to Gentile Christians.116 If, by contrast, it could be shown after all that 4QSb and 4QSd represent the later recension of the Serekh, the conclusion would have to be that Paul was not alone in his reaction against 113. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 320. 114. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 320. 115. 1QH 14(=6).13, Cylm Ny); CD 15.17 par.; cf. e.g., 1QM 10.11; 11QBer (=11Q14) 12f. 116. The motif of religious ‘exclusivism’ in the Rule of the Community and other Qumran texts is usefully surveyed in George W. E. Nickelsburg, ‘Religious Exclusivism: A World View Governing Some Texts Found at Qumran’, in Das Ende der Tage und die Gegenwart des Heils: Begegnungen mit dem Neuen Testament und seiner Umwelt (Fs. Heinz-Wolfgang Kuhn; eds M. Becker and W. Fenske; AGJU, 44; Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 45–67 (46–51) and passim. James Dunn has variously explored the possibility of finding here a foil for Pauline theology (so e.g., in Dunn, ‘4QMMT and Galatians’ with respect to 4QMMT).



Grace, Works and Destiny

261

narrow religious exclusivism.117 Either way, the soteriology of the scrolls is clearly not a monolithic theological construct but remained subject to flux and development over an extended period of time.118

117. He himself of course sometimes counsels separation from outsiders and exclusion of insiders: compare e.g., 1 Cor. 5.9-13 with 2 Cor. 6.14–7.1. 118. Parts of this chapter were presented at the Oxford Qumran Forum (Nov. 1997), the Cambridge Seminar in Hebrew, Jewish and Early Christian Studies (Jan. 1998), and the Congress of the European Association of Jewish Studies in Toledo (July 1998). I am grateful for comments and suggestions from members of these seminars, as well as from Professors P. S. Alexander of Manchester and M. A. Knibb of London, among others.

Part VI Rabbinic Texts

Chapter 15

Messianic Redemption: Soteriology in the Targum Jonathan to the Former and Latter Prophets Bruce D. Chilton 1. Introduction The term ‘targum’ simply means ‘translation’ in Aramaic, but the types and purposes of the renderings involved were diverse. By the first century ce Aramaic predominated as the common language of Judea, Samaria and Galilee (although distinctive dialects were spoken); Hebrew was understood by educated and/or nationalistic strata of the population; some familiarity with Greek was a cultural necessity, especially in commercial and bureaucratic contexts. The linguistic situation in Judea and Galilee demanded translation of the Scriptures into Aramaic, for purposes such as popular worship and study. The aim of Targumic production was to give the sense of the Hebrew Scriptures; paraphrase is characteristic of the Targumim. The theological programmes conveyed by Targumic renderings are not always consistent, even within a given Targum. Although the rabbis attempted to control Targumic activity, the extant Targumim themselves sometimes contradict rabbinic proscriptions. For example, m. Meg. 4.9 insists that Lev. 18.21 (‘You must not give of your seed, to deliver it to Moloch’) should not be interpreted in respect of sexual intercourse with Gentiles; yet the Targum Pseudo-Jonathan – a late work, produced long after rabbinic authority had been established – takes just that line. The Targumim evince such oddities because they are the products of a dialectical interaction between folk practice and rabbinic supervision – sometimes mediated through a love of dramatic and inventive speculation on both sides of the interaction. This dynamic tension persisted over centuries.1 Targumim may be divided among those of the Torah (the Pentateuch), those of the Prophets (both ‘Former Prophets’, or the so-called historical 1. See A. D. York, ‘The Dating of Targumic Literature’, JSJ 5 (1974), pp. 49–62, and ‘The Targum in the Synagogue and the School’, JSJ 10 (1979), pp. 74–86; C. A. Evans, To See and Not Perceive. Isaiah 6.9-10 in Early Jewish and Christian Interpretation (JSOTSup, 64; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1989); B. P. Mortensen, ‘Pseudo-Jonathan and Economics for Priests’, JSP 20 (1999), pp. 39–71.

266

This World and the World to Come

works, and the ‘Latter Prophets’, or the Prophets as commonly designated in English), and those of the Writings (or Hagiographa), following the conventional designations of the Hebrew Bible in Judaism. Although the Hebrew Bible is almost entirely rendered by the Targumim in aggregate, there was no single moment, and no particular movement, which produced a comprehensive Bible in Aramaic. Among the Targumim to the Pentateuch, Targum Onqelos is a suitable point of introduction. Onqelos appears to correspond best of all the Targumim to rabbinic ideals of translation. Although paraphrase remains evident, especially in order to describe God and his revelation in suitably reverent terms, the high degree of correspondence with the Hebrew of the Masoretic Text (and inferentially with the Hebrew text current in antiquity) is striking. Onqelos should probably be dated towards the end of the third century ce, in the wake of comparable efforts to produce a literal Greek rendering during the second century, and well after strict application of the principle that Targumim were to be oral. The Targum Neophyti I was identified as a separate Targum (not a version of Onqelos, for which it had been confused) in 1949 by Alejandro Díez. The paraphrases of Neophyti are substantially different from those of Onqelos. Entire pericopae are added, and it is impossible to predict in literary terms when remarkable freedom of this kind is to be indulged. Although the language of Neophyti appears somewhat later than that of Onqelos, the chronology of these two Targums seems about the same; the differences between them are a function more of programme and provenance than of dating. The rabbis of Babylonia, who called Onqelos ‘our Targum’, exerted greater influence than did their colleagues in the west. The latest representative of the type of expansive rendering found in Neophyti is Targum Pseudo-Jonathan. Its reference to the names of Mohammed’s wife and daughter in Gen. 21.21 put its final composition sometime after the seventh century ce. This oddly designated Targum is so called in that the name ‘Jonathan’ was attributed to it during the Middle Ages, because its name was abbreviated with a yod. But the letter perhaps stood for ‘Jerusalem’, although that designation is also not established critically. The title ‘Pseudo-Jonathan’ is therefore an admission of uncertainty. Neophyti and Pseudo-Jonathan are conventionally called ‘Palestinian Targums’, to distinguish their dialects and their style of interpretation from those of Onqelos. Neophyti and Pseudo-Jonathan are to be associated with two other Targums, or to be more precise, groups of Targums. The first group, in chronological order, consists of the fragments of the Cairo Geniza. Many of them were originally part of more complete works, dating between the seventh and the eleventh centuries, which were deposited in the Geniza of the Old Synagogue in Cairo. In the type and substance of interpretation, these fragments are comparable to Neophyti and Pseudo-Jonathan. The same may be said of the Fragments Targum, which was collected as a miscellany of Targumic readings during the Middle Ages, representing the continued



Messianic Redemption

267

interest in Aramaic as a theological language. An interesting feature of these Targumim is that their relationship might be described as a synoptic one, in several ways comparable to the relationship among the Gospels. Both the Former and the Latter Prophets are extant in Aramaic in a single collection, although the date and character of each Targum within the collection needs to be determined individually. The entire corpus is ascribed in rabbinic tradition (b. Meg. 3a) to Jonathan ben Uzziel, Hillel’s disciple. On the other hand, there are passages of the Prophets’ Targum that accord with renderings quoted in the Babylonian Talmud and attributed to Joseph bar Hiyya, a rabbi of the fourth century (cf. Tg. Isa. 5.17b and b. Pesah. 68a). As it happens, the Isaiah Targum, which has been subjected to more study than any of the Prophets’ Targumim, shows signs of a nationalistic eschatology which was current just after the destruction of the Temple in 70 ce, and also of the more settled perspective of the rabbis in Babylon some 300 years later. It appears that Targum Jonathan as a whole is the result of two major periods of collecting and editing interpretations by the rabbis, the first period being Tannaitic, and the second Amoraic. Well after Targum Jonathan was composed, probably around the same time the Fragments Targum (to the Pentateuch) was assembled, Targumic addenda were appended in certain of its manuscripts; they are represented in the Codex Reuchlinianus and in a manuscript in the Bibliothèque Nationale (mislabelled Hébreu 75). Of the three categories of Targumim, that of the Writings is without question the most diverse. To take a few examples, although the Targum to Psalms is formally a translation, at moments it is better described as a midrash, while the Targum to Proverbs appears to be a fairly straightforward rendition of the Peshitta, and the Targum(im) to Esther seems designed for use within a celebration of the liturgy of Purim. The Targums to the Writings are the most problematic within modern study, in some cases dating from the medieval period. In order to develop an understanding of how salvation is viewed within the Targumim, this essay focuses on Targum Jonathan to the Prophets. Its history of composition has been well studied, and a substantial consensus now posits its growth during the Tannaitic and Amoraic periods; by focusing on Jonathan we engage a broad spectrum of interpreters in the generation of Targumic theology. 2. A critical approach The Targumim evidence how the Hebrew Scriptures were understood, not simply among rabbis, but also more commonly, by the congregations for whom the Targumim were intended. The literary remains of the Aramaic Targumim are sporadic, dialectical variation is significant, and there sometimes appears to have been a significant difference between the language as spoken and the language as written. The Targums are a rich source of that form of early Judaism and rabbinic Judaism where the folk and the expert

268

This World and the World to Come

aspects of the religion met. But for that source to be mined, attention must be paid to the generative order of the Targumic corpus. The generative pattern was first identified in the case of the Isaiah Targum. The theory of the formation of the Isaiah Targum in two principal phases was first advanced in 1982.2 The theory holds that prior to the revolt of Simeon bar Kosiba (bar Kokhba) in 132 ce, the first exegetical framework of the Targum of Isaiah was produced. That exegetical framework organized then current translations of the Hebrew text into a powerful vehicle of opposition to the Romans and propaganda for the restoration of the Temple. During the fourth century, the second exegetical framework of the Isaiah Targum was developed. With its completion, the whole of the Hebrew text of Isaiah was rendered, and the perspective of the translation was coordinated with the concerns of the Babylonian academies (especially Pumbeditha’s, where the work was conducted under Joseph bar Hiyya). After the theory of two exegetical frameworks was developed for the Targum of Isaiah, it was applied to the Targum of the Former Prophets, the Targums of Jeremiah and Ezekiel, and the Targum of the Minor Prophets.3 Today the development of Targum Jonathan in two major phases appears to be a matter of consensus. The rabbis were put in the position of attempting to influence practices of interpretation over which they held no authority a priori.4 They sometimes rationalized, within their own theologies, interpretative traditions that were of long standing in some communities. Differences between the interpretation of the first framework and the interpretation of the second framework are manifest. Propaganda for revolt and homilies for settled accommodation to the Sassanids obviously represent different perspectives. The theory of exegetical frameworks accommodates tensions between academy and synagogue, and among academies.

2. For a brief introduction and bibliography, cf. Chilton, ‘Targums’, in Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels (eds J. B. Green, S. McKnight and I. H. Marshall; Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1992), pp. 800–4. The principal publications are Chilton, The Glory of Israel: The Theology and Provenience of the Isaiah Targum (JSOTSup, 23; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1982); The Isaiah Targum. Introduction, Translation, Apparatus, and Notes (ArBib, 11; Wilmington: Glazier; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1987); ‘Two in One: Renderings of the Book of Isaiah in Targum Jonathan’, in Writing and Reading the Scroll of Isaiah: Studies of an Interpretive Tradition 2 (eds C. C. Broyles and C. A. Evans; VTSup, 70; Leiden: Brill, 1997), pp. 2.547–62. 3. The paradigm is applied in D. J. Harrington and A. J. Saldarini, Targum Jonathan of the Former Prophets (ArBib, 10; Wilmington: Glazier; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1987); W. F. Smelik, The Targum of Judges (OTS, 36; Leiden: Brill, 1995); R. Hayward, The Targum of Jeremiah (ArBib, 12; Wilmington: Glazier; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1987); S. H. Levey, The Targum of Ezekiel (ArBib, 13; Wilmington: Glazier; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1987); K. J. Cathcart and R. P. Gordon, The Targum of the Minor Prophets (ArBib, 14; Wilmington: Glazier; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1989). 4. In this connection, it is interesting that interpreters developed the practice of consulting non-rabbinic speakers in the process of translation; cf. Gen. Rab. 79.7 (on Gen. 33.19) and Chilton, The Glory of Israel, pp. 3–4.



Messianic Redemption

269

3. Messianic redemption in the Isaiah Targum In this essay, we consider how the issue of salvation or, more properly, redemption (purqana’) is understood in the Isaiah Targum, and then Targum Jonathan as represented in its other component Targumim. The messianic perspective of the Tannaitic meturgeman comes to expression early in the Targum. The translation presented here, of Tg. Isa. 4.2-3, follows my edition of the Targum, where departures from the MT are indicated with the use of italics: In that time the Messiah of the LORD shall be for joy and for glory, and those who perform the law for pride and for praise to the survivors of Israel. And it shall come to pass that he who is left will return to Zion and he who has performed the law will be established in Jerusalem; he will be called holy. Every one who has been recorded for eternal life will see the consolations of Jerusalem.

From the point of view of its content, the rendering is straight­forward. Messiah is associated with the performance of the law (and therefore its correct interpretation), and those who actually do perform it anticipate eternal life in a consoled Jerusalem. The reference to ‘my servant’ in Isa. 43.10-12 is enough to occasion a signature statement of the messianic theme of the Amoraic meturgeman (a term here used collectively): ‘You are witnesses before me’, says the LORD, ‘and my servant the messiah with whom I am pleased, that you might know and believe before me and understand that I am he. I am he that was from the beginning, even the ages of the ages are mine, and there is no God besides me. I, I am the LORD, and besides me there is no saviour. I declared to Abraham your father what was about to come, I saved you from Egypt, just as I swore to him between the pieces, I proclaimed to you the teaching of my law from Sinai, when you were present and there was no stranger among you; and you are witnesses before me’, says the LORD, ‘and I am God.’

The point of that rendering is that the Messiah is an eternal witness before God, testifying to God’s power in creation, his revelation to Abraham, his salvation at the exodus, and his giving of the law at Sinai. The situation envisaged is one of exile: ‘For your sins’ sake you were exiled to Babylon …’ (Tg. Isa. 43.14). The circumstances of the Babylonian Amoraim come to expression here, and reasons for the modulation of their theology, from the direct eschatology of the earlier period to an emphasis upon eternity and transcendence, become apparent. Part of that modulation is an interpretative matter. Literal transformation (from ‘servant’ in Hebrew to ‘messiah’ in Aramaic as the example below will show) is the medium of the rendering, but it assumes that the reference to the servant of the LORD is alone enough to justify messianic reference. That is, the Amoraic meturgeman is programmatic in his rendering. A cognate shift in the key of hope is evident in the handling of the term ‘Shekhinah’, which refers to the presence of God in association with the cult. In the Tannaitic framework, the association is quite direct. In response to his people’s injustice, God removes his Shekhinah from the priests when they

270

This World and the World to Come

pray (1.15), although its proper location is Mount Zion (see 8.18; 17.11; 26.21), which is where it will soon return, when the Messiah re-establishes the Temple (4.5): And then the LORD will create over the whole sanctuary of the Mount of Zion and over the place of the house of the Shekhinah a cloud of glory – it will be covering it by day, and the dense cloud will be as a flaming fire by night; for it shall have glory greater than was promised he would bring upon it, the Shekhinah will be sheltering it as a canopy.

The expectation of the Shekhinah’s return is physically conceived, as the cloud of the period of the exodus. Vindication and God’s tangible presence in the sanctuary are inextricably linked. That is what drives the powerful conviction of the Tannaitic meturgeman that the book of Isaiah turns on the restoration of Israel, a redemption that makes Israel greater than it ever was before. The realism of the eschatological hope of the Tannaitic meturgeman is dissonant, in respect of reference to the Shekhinah, with a conception common among the Amoraim. They held that the Shekh­inah had gone into exile with Israel, and was accessible within their academies in Babylonia. There was even a famous discussion of which academy had the best claim of access to the Shekhinah (b. Meg. 29a). The Amoraic conception of divine transcendence made the Shekhinah both more ambient and more focused on the individual than was the case in the theology of the Tannaitic meturgeman. Talmud Bavli Qidd. 31a attributes to R. Isaac the opinion that anyone who transgresses secretly steps on the toes of the Shekhinah. Once such a conception of the Shekhinah is applied to the book of Isaiah, it can only produce a contradiction of what the Targum, as framed by a Tannaitic meturgeman with a very different understanding, empha­tical­ly says. Isaiah 1.15 is said by R. Yohanan to be pointed at individual priests, not to the removal of the Shekhinah as such (see b. Ber. 32b), and R. Eleazar applies the same verse to the act of masturbation (see b. Nid. 13b). The implication of an individually threatening removal of the Shekhinah is an individually efficacious return. That implication becomes explicit in the promise that Isa. 4.5 means that ‘the Holy One, blessed be he, will make for everyone a canopy corresponding to his rank’ (b. B. Bat. 75a). The communal canopy of the early framework of the Targum is here made into a series of tents. Indeed, once the Amoraic theology of the Shekhinah is appreci­ated, the fact that the Tannaitic meturgeman’s work was preserved becomes all the more impressive. Evidently, a measure of authority was accorded the work as representing the meaning of what Isaiah the prophet said. On the other hand, the Amoraic meturgeman who supplemented the earlier framework was confronted with the question of how to bridge the Tannaitic conception with the contemporary understanding. The transformation that is the interpretative technique of the Amoraic meturgeman is systematic in two senses. First, the theology of transcendence



Messianic Redemption

271

that is involved is introduced, not only on the occasion of verbal triggers, but when and as the doctrinal need emerges to explain how God is related to the prophet’s vision. Second, the theology of transcendence that is introduced is itself systematic, a way of thinking about God that is consistent with Amoraic theology but which can also be related to the text of Isaiah in its traditional form, both in Hebrew and in Aramaic. The Aramaic renderings of Isaiah we have considered by means of examples of the interpretations of the Tannaitic and Amoraic meturgemanin permit us insight into the development of distinct methods of the transformation of meaning from the Hebrew text into the Aramaic Targum. In both cases, transformation is the appropri­ate category, because there is no question of simple translation. The Tannaitic meturgeman transforms the Hebrew of Isaiah literally into a messianic theology of eschatological vindication. The Amoraic meturgeman transforms both the work of his predecessor and those parts of the Hebrew text that had not already been rendered into Aramaic by means of systematic indications of God’s transcendence. 4. Targum Jonathan, the Former Prophets As we have seen, their distinct idioms of transformation help explain how the Tannaitic framework and the Amoraic framework can coexist, without the latter simply swallowing up the former. The eschatology of messianic vindication can remain, because the Shekhinah whose presence is the pivot of all that the Tannaitic meturgeman says is understood by the Amoraic meturgeman to reside in the heavens of the height, eternal and unchanging. Just as the two frameworks are complementary in terms of interpretative technique, so they convey vivid and distinct perspectives of what the book of Isaiah is. What is for one level of interpretation a programme of urgently anticipated messianic vindication is at the second level a hymn of eternal praise for an eternal, transcendent God. The traditional language of Tannaitic eschatology is not effaced by the Amoraic meturgeman, but the emphasis upon transcendence in fact puts what is anticipated in a new place, ever secure in heaven. Targum Jonathan represents views of salvation through its other books, which may be treated in relation to the Isaiah Targum, because a similar structure of generative frameworks is evident in them. In Judges 5, within the song of Deborah,5 the target of prophecy, in a setting of hardship, is specified in the Targum (Judg. 5.9): I was sent to give praise to the scribes of Israel who, when that affliction happened, did not cease from studying the Law; and who, whenever it was proper for them, were sitting in the synagogues at the head of the exiles and were teaching the people the words of the Law and blessing and giving thanks before God. 5. See Daniel J. Harrington, ‘The Prophecy of Deborah: Interpretative Homiletics in Targum Jonathan of Judges 5’, CBQ 48 (1986), pp. 432–42.

272

This World and the World to Come

The Targum directs Deborah’s words to the specific situation of Israel after the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 ce, when exile was a persistent condition, and rabbis – here addressed as ‘scribes’ – were the principal authorities.6 Their role in the operation of synagogues, teaching and blessing and praising God, is Deborah’s particular concern within the Targum, even though the Masoretic Text developed a different, military application. Given the way in which prophecy is emphasized and articulated within Targum Jonathan, it is not surprising that Deborah’s own role as a prophet is underlined (see Judg. 5.3, 7).7 But the exalted status of the prophetic vocation is also indicated by other means. Deborah herself is depicted as a woman of wealth (Judg. 4.5), so that no question of any financial motive for her prophetic activity could arise. Moreover, on several occasions, ‘prophet’ takes the place of the word ‘angel’ in the Masoretic Text (Judg. 2.1, 4; 5.23): the ordinary communication of the heavenly realm is held to occur by prophetic means.8 The term translated ‘angel’ in English (mal’akh) of course means ‘messenger’ in Hebrew, so that the shift to a prophetic reference is not in any sense arbitrary. Nonetheless, Judges envisions these figures with unusual powers and attributes, which then, in the Targum, are associated with the prophetic voice. Just that prophetic voice, in the case of Deborah, is commissioned in Judg. 5.9 (as we have seen) to praise the rabbinic teachers who guide Israel in exile. The close connection between the heavenly court and the authority that stands behind Targum Jonathan itself is intimated in another scene, when the angel appears to Manoah, the father of Samson (Judges 13). The angel in this case remains an angel (instead of being replaced by a prophet), but when Manoah asks his name, he calls himself ‘interpreter’ in the Targum (13.18).9 In that this supernatural figure replies evasively in the Masoretic Text that his name is ‘my wonder’, it is evident that Targum Jonathan elevates the functions of both prophecy and interpretation within its rendering. The association of priesthood and prophecy is a feature of Josephus’ theology, and it is developed skilfully in Targum Jonathan to the Former Prophets.10 Hannah, the mother of Samuel, prays ‘in a spirit of prophecy’ (Tg. 1 Sam. 2.1), near the site of the sanctuary, and represents both the Tannatic and Amoraic eschatology of Targum Jonathan.11 Samuel himself is 6. See Smelik, The Targum of Judges, pp. 443–5. 7. After all, even Othniel is associated specifically with the ‘spirit of prophecy’ (Judg. 3.10). 8. See Smelik, The Targum of Judges, pp. 349–52. As he correctly points out (p. 387), the introduction of the term angel in place of God in Judg. 4.14 is ‘relatively old’, by which he seems to mean pre-Tannaitic. 9. Following the rendering of Harrington and Saldarini, p. 86, rather than Smelik, p. 566, on the grounds of the basic meaning of the Aramaic root. 10. See Joseph Blenkinsopp, ‘Prophecy and Priesthood in Josephus’, JJS 25 (1974), pp. 239–62. 11. See Eveline van Staalduine-Sulman, The Targum of Samuel: Studies in the Aramaic Interpretation of Scripture (Leiden: Brill, 2002), pp. 197–219. She explicitly accepts the analysis of Targum Jonathan as stemming from two exegetical frameworks on p. 711.



Messianic Redemption

273

said to sleep in the court of the Levites (Tg. 1 Sam. 3.3), since the meturgeman cannot imagine him doing so in the sanctuary itself, as a straightforward reading of the Masoretic Text could imagine the setting.12 In that safer haven, the ‘glory’ of the LORD is revealed to Samuel (Tg. 1 Sam. 3.10); that is the particular source of his word of prophecy (Tg. 1 Sam. 3.7). Samuel is a good paradigm of the prophetic vocation. His prophecy against idolatry is accepted, and the people of Israel ‘poured out their heart in repentance like water’ (Tg. 1 Sam. 7.6). He succeeds in turning Israel back from their rebellion against ‘the service of the LORD’ in the Temple (Tg. 1 Sam. 7.2-3; compare Tg. Judg. 2.13; 1 Kgs 14.8, 9), which is the particular sin which occasions exile in Targum Jonathan as a whole.13 The sanctuary is the precise place where ‘the living God has chosen to make his Shekhinah reside’ (Tg. Josh. 3.10), and for that reason it is the only appropriate repository of Israel’s sacred wealth (so Tg. Josh. 6.19, concerning the spoil of Jericho). Prophecy and Temple are linked inextricably in Targum Jonathan of the Former Prophets, as they are in Targum Jonathan as a whole. In view of the paradigmatic role of Samuel, the considerable expansion of the song of Hannah is all the more striking. Her prediction, within a recitation of the history of Israel’s salvation, places the social context of the interpretation quite precisely in Tg. 1 Sam. 2.5: So Jerusalem, which was like a barren woman, is to be filled with the people of her exiles. And Rome, which was filled with many peoples – her armies will cease to be; she will be desolate and destroyed.

In language and imagery, as in its application to the difference in fortunes between Jerusalem and Rome, the passage builds upon the similar prediction of Isa. 54.1 in the Isaiah Targum.14 Moreover, it makes the state of ‘exiles’ the particular focus, in conformity with the song of Deborah in Judges 5. The songs of Deborah and of Hannah both demonstrate a consuming interest in the prophetic vocation of insistence on Israel’s devotion to the law and the sanctuary, and Israel’s avoidance of the dangers of idolatry, which apparently became severe in the period after the destruction of the Temple. The assumption of a continuing exile as the condition of Israel comports with the period after 135 ce, when Jewish settlement in Jerusalem was prohibited by the Romans. Targum Jonathan of the Former Prophets responds to that situation, by building a bridge between the heavenly communication of the classical prophets and what can be heard in synagogues from teachers who attend to the Torah. David has a particular place in the redemptive theology of Targum Jonathan, because he is the object of prophetic prediction. What is said by the prophet Nathan in 2 Samuel 7, commonly known as the Davidic covenant, 12. See Eveline van Staalduine-Sulman, Targum of Samuel, pp. 229–30. 13. See Carol A. Dray, Translation and Interpretation in the Targum to the Book of Kings (SAIS, 5; Leiden: Brill, 2006) pp. 63–4. 14. So Eveline van Staalduine-Sulman, Targum of Samuel, p. 212.

274

This World and the World to Come

amounts not simply to a promise of enduring prosperity, but also involves ‘the age that is coming’ (Tg. 2 Sam. 7.19). Because the Davidic house is the object of that vision, David himself emerges as an instrument of prophecy (Tg. 2 Sam. 22.1), and he announces the salvation of the house of Israel, despite their apparently poor fortunes ‘in this world’ (Tg. 2 Sam. 22.28). At the close of 2 Samuel, David expands the litany of salvation that Hannah had already initiated, but with particular reference to the redemption that is to come (Tg. 2 Sam. 22.32): Therefore on account of the sign and the redemption that you do for your messiah and for the remnant of your people who are left, all the nations, peoples, and languages will give thanks and say, ‘There is no God except the Lord …’

Just as the Targumic Hannah invoked a characteristic element of the Isaiah Targum, in the comparison of barren Jerusalem and maternal Rome, so the Targumic David invokes an insistence dear to the Targum Jonathan, that there is no God but the Lord.15 At the same time, the theme of the universal recognition of messianic vindication comes to open expression. David’s ‘words of prophecy’ are said to be ‘for the end of the world, for the days of consolation that are to come’, days that will see ‘the messiah to come who will arise and rule’ (Tg. 1 Sam. 23.1, 3). Targum Jonathan of the Former Prophets presents a full, well articulated hope of messianic redemption, involving the Messiah in the destruction of Rome, renewed dedication to the service of the Lord in his Temple, and faithfulness to the Torah. Moreover, a theory of authority is intimated, in which true prophecy represents the claims of heaven upon the earth, and may in turn be represented away from Jerusalem, under conditions of exile, by the voice of faithful teachers and interpreters. Many handbooks and articles refer to Targum Jonathan to the Former Prophets as being a literal translation, and to some extent that reputation is justified. It is remarkably economical compared to the Targums to the Latter Prophets. But the innovative matter included, above all in the songs of Deborah, Hannah, and David, make it clear beyond any reasonable contradiction that the Targum is a literary translation of the corpus as a whole, targeted on the issue of messianic redemption as attested by the prophets and warranted by the authority of rabbinic teachers in synagogues and schools.16 The emphasis on the condition of exile (see the discussion of Tg. Judg. 5.9 above) suggests that the framework of Targum Jonathan to the Former Prophets was essentially Amoraic. As compared to the Isaiah Targum, the immediate hope of a rebuilt Temple and a return from exile is a less programmatic feature. Even the Messiah is present more as a symbol and seal of ultimate triumph than as a personal instrument of victory. These

15. See Chilton, The Glory of Israel, pp. 6–7. 16. This is also the conclusion of Eveline van Staalduine-Sulman, The Targum of Samuel, pp. 701–17.



Messianic Redemption

275

indications, together with the probable allusion to the tradition of the Isaiah Targum at 1 Sam. 2.5 in the song of Hannah, suggest that Targum Jonathan to the Former Prophets emerged during the third century in Babylonia. It no doubt was composed on the basis of earlier materials, and the reference to prophets and teachers and scribes is comparable with, albeit on the whole more favourable than, both the Isaiah Targum and the Jeremiah Targum (both of which manifest a Tannaitic phase of development), but it is the economy of the Targum to the Former Prophets that is most striking in comparison to Targumim that evidence a Tannaitic phase of composition. That economy, however, only makes the expansions of the Targum all the more important as indices of its intent and setting. Deborah, Hannah, and David together attest – with the prophetic authority of God’s own spirit – that the Messiah is to come from the house of David as the seal of Israel’s consolation. That rigorously developed theme makes little sense as a guiding principle prior to 135 ce within the school of Aqiba, an association that has been claimed in an influential volume of scholarship.17 After all, the leader of the revolt of 132–135, Simeon bar Kosiba, could not claim Davidic descent. Instead, he had to rely on Balaam’s oracle that a star would arise from Jacob to strike the enemies of Israel (Num. 24.17). Aqiba’s apparent support for Simeon led to the rebuke in the Yerushalmi, ‘Aqiba, grass will grow from your jaw before the son of David comes’ (so m. Ta‘an. 4.8). That is, Aqiba is put in the wrong for the immediacy of his hope and for his identification of a non-David figure as the Messiah. The Targum to the Former Prophets joins this rabbinic critique of the Aqiban eschatology in a particularly telling manner. Aqiba has been widely reputed as the most careful of biblical exegetes: each particle of the Hebrew language was to be given its full weight in interpretation.18 This Targum normally represents its Hebrew text very faithfully, and only departs in a systematic way to insist upon the Davidic identity of the Messiah who is to come in God’s own scheme of salvation, warranted by the prophets. So the methods of Aqiba, both scrupulous grammatical care and an inspired application of the biblical text to contemporary circumstances, are deployed in this Targum to refute the Aqiban eschatology. 5. Targum Jonathan, the Latter Prophets Robert Hayward has suggested that the Jeremiah Targum also evolved in two stages, principally during the first and the fourth centuries.19 The Messiah 17. So Leivy Smolar and Moses Aberbach, Studies in Targum Jonathan to the Prophets (New York/Baltimore: KTAV/Baltimore Hebrew College, 1983). 18. See Harry Freedman, ‘Akiva’, in EncJud 2 (ed. Cecil Roth; Jerusalem: Keter, 1972), pp. 487–92. 19. The Targum of Jeremiah, p. 38. His observations of coherence with the biblical interpretation of Jerome (340–420 ce; p. 35, as well as the index, p. 203) are especially interesting.

276

This World and the World to Come

is characterized as ‘messiah of righteousness’ in a way consistent with the Scrolls of Qumran.20 Yet the Messiah in the Jeremiah Targum aligns himself more with the providential figure of the Former Prophets Targum than with the triumphant rebuilder of the Temple anticipated in the earliest stages of the Isaiah Targum. As a son of David, the Messiah is keenly anticipated because his revelation among the people means their redemption, safety, and their recognition of God as the source of their vindication (Tg. Jer. 23.5-6; 30.9, 21; 33.13, 1517, 26), not because he triumphantly rebuilds the Temple. This Messiah, as in the Amoraic phase (rather than the Tannaitic phase) of the Isaiah Targum, is a teacher in the manner of the rabbis: ‘the people shall yet eagerly pursue the words of the messiah’ (Tg. Jer. 33.13). There is no question, however, of the Messiah within the Jeremiah Targum simply reflecting the more settled expectation of the Amoraic period. He is also, as in the Isaiah Targum’s early phase, associated quite closely with the priesthood (Tg. Jer. 33.20-22), and with worship in the Temple (Tg. Jer. 30.9, 21). The rebuilding of the sanctuary is in fact an object of faith in this Targum (Tg. Jer. 31.12); it is just that the messianic means of its rebuilding is not articulated with the degree of emphasis that it is in the Isaiah Targum. By comparison, then, a certain attenuation of a vigorous hope of restoration seems apparent. The later dating of the Jeremiah Targum as compared to the Isaiah Targum prepares us to understand how it is that, in Tg. Jer. 2.21, the phrase ‘as a plant of a choice vine’ is imported from Tg. Isa. 5.2, and applied to the people of Jerusalem. The point in the Isaiah Targum is to speak of Israel’s identity as centred in the sanctuary, but by the time of the Jeremiah Targum the phrase is more like a slogan, and is applied in a less specific way. It speaks of Israel without specifying the need to rebuild the Temple. The Jeremiah Targum was an especially good occasion (given the themes of the biblical book) to dilate on the disastrous consequences of the failure to listen to prophetic teachers, as we see in Tg. Jer. 6.29:21 Behold, like bellows which blow what is burnt in the midst of the fire, so the voice of their prophets is silent, who prophesy to them: Return to the Law! But they have not returned. And like lead which is melted in the smelting pot, so the words of the prophets who prophesy to them are void in their eyes. Their teachers have taught them without profit, and they have not forsaken their evil deeds.

In his treatment of the Ezekiel Targum, Samson H. Levey has argued for an even earlier date of the founding framework than Hayward has argued for the Jeremiah Targum. Levey agrees that the received product that can be read today is Amoraic, but attempts to specify the foundation of the 20. See Tg. Jer. 23.5 with 4QPatr 3-4; see also the reference to prophecy in Tg. Jer. 1.2 with 11QPs DavComp 27.1; Hayward, Targum of Jeremiah, pp. 27, 33. 21. The passage is especially innovative in comparison to the Masoretic Text. Hayward, Targum of Jeremiah, p. 69, explains the logic of the rendering.



Messianic Redemption

277

tradition with the school of Rabbi Yohannan ben Zakkai, who survived after the siege which culminated in the burning of the city in 70 ce.22 The book of Ezekiel itself presents the image of the Merkhabah, the chariot that serves as the throne of God (chapter 1), and involves the vision of God (Ezek. 1.26-28). That was the basis of a discipline of contemplation which evolved during the Rabbinic period, well into the Middle Ages and beyond.23 But Yohannan himself taught that the Merkhabah was not to be repeated to the uninstructed (b. Hag. 13a), while the Targum Jonathan is quite forthcoming in rendering the most sensitive passages. An exception to that rule is the rendering of Ezek. 1.6, which assigns 16 faces and 64 wings to each of the creatures; but that only provides a contrast to the usual, straightforward correspondence. Moreover, the probable reason for that multiplication of faces and hands is given in 1.8, where the Targum innovatively has the creatures perform the additional service of removing coals of fire from the firmament in order to destroy sinners. The Targum seems more eschatological than speculative in its innovations. Despite this approach, the Ezekiel Targum represents a related esoteric interpretation, which may be associated – somewhat as Samson H. Levey has suggested – with the school of Yohannan. Although Yohannan was reported to be wary about whom he spoke to regarding the exegesis of Scripture, one of his most famous disciples admitted to a lapse in that regard. Eliezer ben Hyracanus, the most celebrated traditionalist of his time, was once denounced as a rebel to a Roman judge. He was able to walk away from the tribunal, but he said he deserved being denounced, because he had once discussed the interpretation of Scripture with a heretic (probably a Christian) in Sepphoris (see b. ‘Abod. Zar. 16b-17a). Eliezer is said to have connected a key verse in the book of Zechariah, ‘In that day the LORD will be one and his name one’ (Zech. 14.9), with the eschatological expectation of the kingdom of God (see Mek. ’Amalek 2.155-159).24 The kingdom of God features in the Ezekiel Targum, as well as in the Isaiah Targum. The treatment in Tg. Ezek. 7.6-7a makes the eschatological reference unmistakable: The end has come. The retribution of the end which was to come upon you, behold, it comes. The kingdom has been revealed to you, inhabitant of the land!

22. See The Targum of Ezekiel, pp. 2–5. He has backed away from (without formally abandoning) an earlier argument, that the Targum Jonathan was composed during the time of the Geonim (specifically, Saadia Gaon during the early part of the tenth century); see ‘The Date of Targum Jonathan to the Prophets’, VT 21 (1971), pp. 186–96. 23. See b. Hag. 2.1; b. Šabb. 80b; b. Menah. 43b; b. Hag. 13a-14a; b. Meg. 4.10; and the still indispensable study of Gershom G. Scholem, Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism (New York: Schocken, 1946). 24. For further discussion, see Chilton, ‘Regnum Dei Deus Est’, SJT 31 (1978), pp. 261–70, and Targumic Approaches to the Gospels (Lanham: University Press of America, 1986), pp. 99–107; G. W. Lorein, ‘)twklm in the Targum of the Prophets’, AS 3.1 (2005), pp. 15–42.

278

This World and the World to Come

Levey himself cites Tg. Isa. 28.5 – and David Kimhi – by way of comparison, in that the term ‘diadem’ in the Hebrew is also rendered eschatologically there, as here in Tg. Ezek. 7.7.25 The ‘diadem’ of Isa. 28.5 refers to the crown of ‘the messiah’ in the Isaiah Targum, while the ‘diadem’ of Ezek. 7.7 becomes ‘the kingdom’ in the Ezekiel Targum. That would suggest that we are dealing with the Tannaitic framework, and a consistent theology of messianic and eschatological judgement. The figure of the Messiah is keenly anticipated, as is evident in Tg. Ezek. 17.22-23: … I myself will bring near from the kingdom of the house of David which is likened to the lofty cedar, and I will establish him, a child among his sons’ sons; I will anoint and establish him by my Memra ... and he shall gather together armies and build fortresses and become a mighty king; and all the righteous shall rely on him, and all the humble shall dwell in the shade of his kingdom …

Given that the verb ‘anoint’ is used here, and used innovatively in respect of the Hebrew text, it seems pedantic to deny that this is an explicitly messianic expectation. Similarly, ‘son of David’ is not used word for word here; but to deny that the interpretation serves the rabbinic expectation of such a figure would be silly. The Davidic Messiah is to be king, and the righteous are therefore to be vindicated, just as in the Isaiah Targum 16.26 Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi are grouped within the haggadah concerning the origin of Targum Jonathan, where it is claimed that Jonathan ben Uzziel composed the Targum on the basis of them (‘from the mouth of Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi’; b. Meg. 3a). Of the three, only Zechariah offers considerable expansions on the Hebrew text of the prophet. But that is not surprising: after all, Haggai – virtually however translated – turns on the issue of the restoration of the Temple (which becomes the ‘sanctuary’, as is usual in Targum Jonathan). Similarly, Malachi already speaks in Hebrew of the return of Elijah to restore appropriate worship in Jerusalem (Mal. 3.23-24), and it is scarcely taking a liberty with the Masoretic Text to speak of service in the ‘sanctuary’ (Tg. Mal. 1.10; 2.12; 3.7, 10) and the return of the Shekhinah in response to repentance (3.12), as the Targum does. Yet even as redemption is imagined in these tangible and cultic terms, the Malachi Targum attests the Amoraic conviction that prayer as such takes the place of sacrifice (Tg. Mal. 1.11b):

25. Levey, The Targum of Ezekiel, p. 33. 26. In an earlier work, Levey himself remarked, ‘Everything points to a Targumic Messiah innuendo, but the Messiah’s designation as such is absent’; The Messiah: An Aramaic Interpretation. The Messianic Exegesis of the Targum (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College, 1974), p. 79. (Here, the alleged connection is to Hillel (cf. b. Sanh. 99a), rather than Yohannan.) The interpretation strikes me as being quite straightforward, and most unlike an ‘innuendo’.



Messianic Redemption

279

… and at every time that you do my will I receive your prayer and my great name is sanctified because of you, and your prayer is like a pure offering before me; for my name is great among the nations, says the LORD of hosts.

Pinkhos Churgin correctly observed that the replacement of sacrifice, as distinct from the restoration of sacrifice, is typically an Amoraic theme within Targum Jonathan.27 The themes of both Tannaitic and Amoraic meturgemanin are in evidence within the Zechariah Targum, which Rabbi Joseph cited as an already extant source (see b. Meg. 3a and Mo‘ed Qat. 28b). At Tg. Zech. 3.8, the identification of the ‘branch’ with the Messiah is made explicit, as at Tg. Isa. 4.2, and the Messiah is also portrayed as being ‘revealed’, a locution reminiscent of 4 Ezra 7.28. Martin McNamara has argued that this usage is characteristic of the first century, and it is repeated in 6.12-13 of the Zechariah Targum, where the Messiah (for ‘branch’ in the Masoretic Text) is to build the Temple and be at peace with a ‘high priest’.28 Reference to the ‘kingdom of the Lord’ at Tg. Zech. 14.9 may reasonably be dated within the first century. Similarly, in Tg. Zech. 4.7-9, where the Hebrew text speaks of Zerubbabel building the Temple, in the Targum he merely starts to build it, and prepares the way for the ‘messiah whose name is told from of old, and he shall rule over all kingdoms’. The relationship between Zerubbabel in the sixth century bce and the Messiah at the end of time is not spelled out here, but the role of the Messiah in restoring the Temple (as in the Isaiah Targum) is implicit. The status of the Messiah – as superior to Zerubbabel or any other Davidic king – is even plainer in Tg. Zech. 10.4: ‘messiah’ appears for ‘tent peg’ in the Masoretic Text, and is associated with ‘king’ and ‘strength in war’. These examples of realistic eschatology instance Tannaitic conceptions. By comparison, the precise designation of the Messiah as him whose ‘name is told from of old’ seems to be an Amoraic motif (see Tg. Mic. 5.1; Tg. Ps. 72.17; Pirqe R. El. 3; b. Pesah. . 54a).29 This hint of Amoraic interest is borne out by the typical themes of false prophecy (Tg. Zech. 10.2; 13.4), paired with the teaching of lies (Tg. Zech. 13.4). The exilic theology of the Amoraic meturgemanin is also evident in the rather full midrash of the two women in Tg. Zech. 5.9 as two ‘provinces going into exile’: the equation of women and states is also made in Tg. Isa. 32.9, and here the prophecy concerning Oholoah and Oholibah in Ezekiel 23 – which the Ezekiel Targum also relates to ‘provinces’ (23.2) – is being used to speak of the punishments of Israel and 27. Pinkhos Churgin, Targum Jonathan to the Prophets (YOSR, XIV; New Haven: Yale University Press, 1927). Cathcart and Gordon, Targum of the Minor Prophets, p. 231, are equally correct when they point out that Philo and the Scrolls attest an ‘occasional spiritualizing of sacrifices’. 28. The New Testament and the Palestinian Targum to the Pentateuch (AnBib, 27/27a; Rome: Biblical Pontifical Institute, 1966/1978), p. 249. 29. So Cathcart and Gordon, Targum of the Minor Prophets, pp. 122, 194, and their citation of G. F. Moore’s reading and Chilton, The Glory of Israel, p. 114.

280

This World and the World to Come

Judah. The extent of the midrash in the Zechariah Targum (5.5-11), suggests the importance of the theme to the meturgeman. But a strong typology of the exodus is also introduced (Tg. Zech. 10.11) to insist on the positive pole of the history of salvation, as well. The full midrash on exile just mentioned, which appears over a short run of material in Zechariah (Tg. Zech. 5.5-11), is pursued much more consistently in the Hosea Targum, owing to the nature of the material involved. The ‘prophecy’ was designed to warn the ‘inhabitants of the idolatrous city’, that ‘if they repent, it will be forgiven them; but if not, they will fall as the leaves of a fig-tree fall’ (Tg. Hos. 1.1-3, see also 11.2, and the phrasing of Tg. Isa. 6.10). There are several such fulsome attacks on idolatry, a particular worry in Sassanian Babylon, and the problem of wooden images is an especial concern (Tg. Hos. 4.12; 8.6). The reference to the Messiah can be as oblique as in the Ezekiel Targum and with virtually the same wording, as when Judah and Israel ‘shall appoint themselves one head from those of the house of David’ (Tg. Hos. 2.2). But ‘messiah’ is used explicitly in Tg. Hos. 3.5, in association with the restoration of worship in the Temple by the Davidic king. This aspect of the Hosea Targum cannot be denied: to some extent, it is concerned with the cultic abuses of the Tannaitic period and even earlier, when ‘they made the non-priest like the priest to desecrate my holy properties’ (Tg. Hos. 4.9). Then, the problem was not the ambient idolatry of the Sassanids, but the predations of the priesthood, and the threat of the coming of the Romans, whose king would ‘destroy their treasure-house and lay waste their royal city’ (Tg. Hos. 13.15), was not only a vivid threat, but a matter of history. Such punishments pale in comparison of the judgement in Gehinnam that is to come, depicted in the final sentence of the Hosea Targum in a way which echoes the close of the Isaiah Targum. Still, such glimpses of earlier interpretations are rather sporadic in the Hosea Targum. They are not easily arranged into the sort of exegetical frameworks evident in the Isaiah Targum and the Zechariah Targum. More typically, the Hosea Targum focuses on the history of salvation in its negative aspect, against those who would say, ‘The scribe shall not teach, and the prophet shall not admonish’ (Tg. Hos. 4.4). When the positive side comes to expression, it is in the wistful remembrance of when ‘those of the house of Judah were fervent in worship until the people of God were exiled from their land, and they who worshipped before me in the sanctuary were called the holy people’ (Tg. Hos. 12.1). To imagine a restoration of such a condition involves anticipating ‘the resurrection of the dead’ (Tg. Hos. 6.2). Idolatry is also a particular concern in the Tg. Amos (2.8), as is the emphasis on prophecy (1.1; 3.8) and the rule of the ‘kingdom of the house of David’ (9.11). There is also a signal interpretation, which represents the visionary language already discussed in connection with the Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Zechariah Targums, which appears in Tg. Amos 9.1: The prophet said, ‘I saw the glory of the LORD; it ascended by the cherub and dwelled on the altar, and he said, ‘If my people Israel are not repentant to the law,



Messianic Redemption

281

overturn the lamp; king Josiah shall be slain, the house shall be laid waste, and the courts shall be broken up; and the vessels of the sanctuary shall go into captivity.

Here, vision and Temple are combined, as before, but in addition the negative side of the history of salvation is spelled out. Moreover, the language used had become traditional of omens of the destruction of the Temple (see b. Yoma 39b and b. Git. 56 a, b by way of comparison).30 The books of Obadiah and Nahum provided excellent opportunities to speak of the vindication of God’s people. Esau was a well-established symbol for Rome (see b. B. Bat. 123b, for example), and is used as such in the rendering of Obadiah. The prediction is made that Jacob and Joseph will ‘have dominion over them and slaughter them’ (Tg. Obad. 1.18); this reversal of fortune, allowing Israel ‘to judge the fortress of Esau’, was relished as the substance of ‘the kingdom of the LORD’ (Tg. Obad. 1.21). Nahum is also made to have ‘prophesied’, and the direction of the prophecy towards Nineveh is contrasted with Jonah’s, as becomes clear in Tg. Nah. 1.1: Beforehand Jonah, the son of Amitai, prophet from Gath Hephar, prophesied against her, and she repented from her sins. And when she proceeded to sin again, Nahum from Beth Koshi prophesied against her, as is written in this book.

By means of reference to Jonah in a sequence, Nahum’s prophecy of doom is vindicated, and is presented as the last word against those who ‘completely destroyed the sanctuary’ (Tg. Nah. 1.8). Not only does that reference apply most naturally to the Romans, it applies most accurately to them after 135 ce. Israel are described as already ‘trusting in his Memra’ (Tg. Nah. 1.7), as if repentance were accomplished, and not an unfulfilled condition. That sense that heaven has already turned in Israel’s favour, that repentance has been offered and accepted, is typical of the Amoraic period. The glories of return from exile from Babylon are anticipated in the Micah and Zephaniah Targums. The former remains concerned with the problem of false prophecy and bad teaching as the cause of exile (see Tg. Mic. 2.11), and the old theology of restoration remains in the interpretation of the mountain of chapter 4 in terms of the sanctuary, as in the Isaiah Targum (chapter 2). Moreover, the Micah Targum associates this with Messianic Rule in 2.13: The delivered shall go up as at the beginning, and a king shall go up, leading at their head, and he shall break the enemy who oppresses them, tread down strong fortresses; they shall inherit the cities of the gentiles and their king shall be at their head and the Memra of the LORD will be their help.

The kingdom and the Messiah are associated in Tg. Mic. 4.7-8. But they are associated more closely than in the earlier Targumim, and the Messiah 30. Discussed in Chilton, A Feast of Meanings. Eucharistic Theologies from Jesus through Johannine Circles (NovTSup, 72; Leiden: Brill, 1994), pp. 77–9.

282

This World and the World to Come

is described as hidden because of Zion’s sins, and as having a name from of old: all of those are probably Amoraic developments.31 Such references reach their climax in a prediction of return from Diaspora as then known, as evident in Tg. Mic. 7.12: At that time the exiles shall gather together from Assyria and the mighty cities, from Greater Armenia and the besieged cities, as far as the Euphrates and the Western Sea and the mountain ranges.

Clearly, the social context envisioned implies more than rebuilding the Temple. God is to remember and return all of his people. Furthermore, God does so because he remembers the Aqedah, the binding of Isaac upon the altar and his sacrifice there, as the Targumist specifically mentions in Tg. Mic. 7.20:32 You will show (your) faithfulness to Jacob to his sons, as you swore to him in Bethel, your kindness to Abraham to his seed after him, as you swore to him between the pieces; you will remember for us the binding of Isaac who was bound upon the altar before you. You will perform kind deeds with us as you swore to our fathers in days of old.

The Aqedah has become, by the fifth century, the surety of Israel’s acceptance before God. The Zephaniah Targum extends the range of the return further, ‘beyond the rivers of India’ (Tg. Zeph. 3.10, for ‘Ethiopia’ in the Masoretic Text33) and further emphasizes the threat of idolatry (Tg. Zeph. 1.4, 5, 8-9).34 The issues of prophecy – whether true or false – and of teaching remain strong (Tg. Zeph. 3.2, 4), but there are also some interesting new elements. A return to the primordial ‘one chosen speech’ as a consequence of the return is specified (Tg. Zeph. 3.9), and the end of the exile also means the end of ‘all those who enslave you’ (Tg. Zeph. 3.19). But also to be removed are ‘the mighty ones of your celebrity’ (Tg. Zeph. 3.11), ‘the judges of deceit’ (Tg. Zeph. 3.15) who need to be purged to make way for ‘a lowly people and accepting mortification’ (Tg. Zeph. 3.12). This is a most skilful application of the theology of exile to the exiles themselves, and makes way for the next, and last, development in Targum Jonathan. Although there is little new in the Joel Targum, what is there offers the possibility of repentance and forgiveness to the individual penitent in emphatic terms, as in Tg. Joel 2.14: 31. See the discussion in George Foot Moore, Judaism in the First Two Centuries of the Christian Era, the Age of the Tannaim (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1927), pp. 2.343–5, 350–3; Chilton, The Glory of Israel, pp. 37, 79–81, 114. 32. See Cathcart and Gordon, Targum of the Minor Prophets, p. 128, citing Chilton, ‘Isaac and the Second Night: a Consideration’, Bib 61 (1980), pp. 78–88. 33. See Ahuva Ho, The Targum of Zephaniah. Manuscripts and Commentary (SAIS, 7; Leiden: Brill, 2009), pp. 359–60. 34. India also features innovatively in the Amoraic framework of the Isaiah Targum (see 18.1).



Messianic Redemption

283

Whoever knows that he has sins on his hands, let him turn back from them, and he will have compassion on him; and whoever repents, his sins shall be forgiven, and he will receive blessings and consolations, and his prayer will be like that of a man who presents offerings and libations in the sanctuary of the Lord your God.

The startling feature here is not simply the individual focus on repentance and forgiveness, but also the direct comparison between personal penitence and cultic sacrifice, a development that occurs near the end of the development of Targum Jonathan. Such a comparison is all but assumed in the Jonah Targum, when the prophet (Tg. Jon. 1.1) says that ‘I with the voice of the praise of thanksgiving will offer my sacrifice before you’ (Tg. Jon. 2.10). That statement is very close to the Masoretic Text, in which Jonah says, ‘I with the voice of thanksgiving will sacrifice to you’. But what is in the Masoretic Text an accompanying action – singing while sacrificing – becomes understandable in the Targum as a replacement of sacrifice: the song reified as the offering. Moreover, there is recourse to the direct statement of the underlying theology in the Jonah Targum, as becomes clear in 3.9: Whoever knows that there are sins on his hands, let him repent of them and he will have compassion on us …

The power of individual penitence is so great that it effects a change in the disposition of God toward the community. This confidence reaches its climax in the Tg. Hab. at 3.1: The prayer which Habakkuk the prophet prayed when it was revealed to him concerning the extension of time which he gives to the wicked, that if they return to the law with a perfect heart it shall be forgiven them, and all their sins which they have sinned before him shall be as inadvertent error.

Here is the theology of the later Amoraim, as Cathcart and Gordon observe (citing b. Yoma 86b),35 which enables even those denounced as wicked to join the movement of repentance. The same Targum refers to the Roman practice of burning incense to standards in Tg. Hab. 1.16 (see the Habakkuk Pesher, 1QpHab 6.3-6; and Josephus’ War 6.316),36 so that the whole cannot be read as a simple statement of Amoraic theology, but the emphasis on repentance in an individual mode is evident. 6. Conclusions Targum Jonathan to the Prophets grew up in stages that may be characterized by means of the types and styles of interpretation utilized. The earliest 35. 36 14–18.

Cathcart and Gordon, Targum of the Minor Prophets, p. 156. See Naphtali Wieder, ‘The Habakkuk Scroll and the Targum’, JJS 4 (1953), pp.

284

This World and the World to Come

stage, associated with synagogal practice up to the revolt of Simeon bar Kosiba in 132 ce, is reflected in the incomplete exegetical frameworks of the tannaim found in the Isaiah and Zechariah Targums, as well as the Targums of Jeremiah and Ezekiel. These early frameworks centre on the immediate restoration of worship in the Temple as the kingdom of God and the Messiah arrive to restore Israel following the devastation of 70. During the late third and fourth centuries the prophetic Targums were revised, following a messianic theme of a return from exile within the entire salvation history of Israel. This resulted in the Amoraic framework within the Targums of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Zechariah. Furthermore, this is the only exegetical framework consistently found in Targum Jonathan of the Former Prophets as well as the Targums of Malachi and Haggai. Our survey of the remaining Targums of the Latter Prophets identified two additional exegetical frameworks among the books of the Minor Prophets. The fifth century saw the completion of the creation of Targum Jonathan, with Hosea, Amos, Nahum, Obadiah, Micah, and Zephaniah in Targum Jonathan containing a further development of the exilic theology, and then Joel, Jonah, and Habakkuk in Targum Jonathan moving that theology in an individualistic direction.37 Although some of these Targums showed possible evidence of earlier frameworks, the evidence was too scattered for certainty. Effectively, then, Targum Jonathan is a monument of rabbinic activity, but of rabbinic activity as it attempted to influence interpretation in synagogues. For that reason, at its earliest stages especially, it represents traditional renderings not of its own making, even as it strives to present Scripture as the voice of the eternal Memra. Fundamentally, the Tannaitic framework, which probably grew up out of the usage of synagogues in sympathy with one another, focused on the messianic vindication of Israel, a vindication that was necessarily to include the defeat of Rome. Insofar as the Amoraic meturgeman could use that tradition in his exilic attempt to maintain and enhance the identity of Israel during the indeterminate number of days prior to the Messiah, he did so. In origin, however, the Targumic tradition of which Targum Jonathan was the final, literary outcome is a monument of the popular and the rabbinic resistance to the presence of the Romans. The Jerusalem which was lost on the ground in 135 ce was preserved in the liturgy of synagogues, insofar as the usage of Targum Jonathan could be promulgated.

37. This individualistic emphasis does not represent the final stage of development. Subsequent to it, the development of Targumic exegesis continued in the emergence of alternative and supplementary readings; see Rimon Kasher, ‘Eschatological Ideas in the Toseftot Targum to the Prophets’, JAB 2 (2000), pp. 25–59, and ‘Different Approaches to Mythical Descriptions in the Targums to the Prophets’, JAB 2 (2000), pp. 61–74.

Chapter 16

The Restoration of Israel: Soteriology in Rabbinic Judaism Jacob Neusner 1. Introduction The theory of salvation – specifically concerned with death, thus salvation from the grave, salvation for eternal life – that is systematically set forth in the canon of Rabbinic Judaism from 200 to 600 ce, the Mishnah, Tosefta, two Talmuds and principal Midrash-compilations, promises restoration of Israel at the end of days.1 A consistent doctrine of restoration emerges in the corpus of canonical writings. Death concerns the individual Israelite and the community of Judaism, Israel. At the end of days the individual Israelite will rise from the dead, and all Israel will be restored to the Land of Israel for eternal life. This component of the Rabbinic system thus is comprised by two complementary components. 2. Restoring private lives: resurrection Rabbinic Judaic soteriology forms a chapter in the eschatology of formative Judaism. Throughout the Oral Torah the main point of the theological eschatology – the theory of last things – registers both negatively and affirmatively. Death does not mark the end of the individual human life, nor exile the last stop in the journey of Holy Israel. Israelites will live in the age or the world to come, all Israel in the Land of Israel; and Israel will comprehend all who know the one true God. The restoration of world order that completes the demonstration of God’s justice encompasses both private life and the domain of all Israel. For both restorationist theology 1. I recapitulate the findings in J. Neusner, The Theology of the Oral Torah: Revealing the Justice of God (Kingston and Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 1999; Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1999). Epitomized in Handbook of Rabbinic Theology (Leiden: Brill, 2003); idem, Rabbinic Judaism: Theological System (Boston/Leiden: Brill, 2003). Condensation of The Theology of the Oral Torah.

286

This World and the World to Come

provides eternal life; to be Israel means to live. So far as the individual is concerned, beyond the grave, at a determinate moment, man [1] rises from the grave in resurrection, [2] is judged, and [3] enjoys the world to come. For the entirety of Israel, congruently: all Israel participates in the resurrection, which takes place in the Land of Israel, and enters the world to come. Restorationist eschatology flows from the same cogent logic that has dictated theological doctrine from the beginning of this systematic account. The last things are to be known from the first. In the just plan of creation man was meant to live in Eden, and Israel in the Land of Israel in time without end. The restoration will bring about that long and tragically-postponed perfection of the world order, sealing the demonstration of the justice of God’s plan for creation. Risen from the dead, having atoned through death, man will be judged in accord with his deeds. Israel for its part, when it repents and conforms its will to God’s, recovers its Eden. So the consequences of rebellion and sin having been overcome, the struggle of man’s will and God’s word having been resolved, God’s original plan will be realized at the last. The simple, global logic of the system, with its focus on the world order of justice established by God but disrupted by man, leads inexorably to this eschatology of restoration, the restoration of balance, order, proportion – eternity. The two principal components of the Oral Torah’s soteriological theology of last things – [1] resurrection and judgement, [2] the world to come and eternal life – as laid out in the several documents do not fit together seamlessly. In general, it would appear, the theology arranges matters in categorical sequence, [1] individual, then [2] community. First comes the resurrection of individuals, and, with it, judgement of individuals one by one. Then, those chosen for life having been identified, ‘the world to come’ takes place, and that final restoration of perfection, involving all Israel in place of Adam, lasts forever. Israel forms the cohort of those chosen for life, and Israelites are restored to life in the Land of Israel. That sequence suggests a single, uninterrupted narrative of last things, while in general, passages that concern themselves with resurrection do not ordinarily join together with composites that deal with the world to come. While mutually complementary, each of the two components of eschatology in the Oral Torah bears its distinctive focus. Before we proceed, let us consider a cogent statement of what is at stake in all eschatological thinking in the Rabbinic, Oral Torah. The absolute given, a logical necessity of a theology revealing God’s justice, maintains that individual life goes forward from this world, past the grave, to the world to come, and people are both judged and promised eternal life. That is a necessary doctrine for a system that insists upon the rationality and order of the universe under God’s rule. Without judgement and eternal life for the righteous, this world’s imbalance cannot be righted, nor can God’s justice be revealed. Monotheism without an eschatology of judgement and the world to come leaves unresolved the tensions inherent in the starting point: God is one, God is just. That is why the starting point of



The Restoration of Israel

287

the theology dictates its conclusion: the deeds one does in this world bear consequences for his situation in the world to come, and the merit attained through this-worldly-deeds, for example, of generosity, persists; individuals retain their status as such through all time to come. The basic logic of the system requires the doctrine of personal resurrection, so that the life of this world may go onward to the next. Indeed, without the conception of life beyond the grave the system as a whole yields a mass of contradictions and anomalies: injustice to the righteous, prosperity to the wicked, never recompensed. That explains why at one point after another, the path to the future passes through, and beyond, the grave and the judgement that, for all Israel with few exceptions, leads to eternity. The principle continues and yields interest, or punishment may take place in this world, while eternal punishment goes onward as well, especially for the trilogy of absolute sins, idolatry, incest (or fornication) and murder, capped by gossip. But how all of this squares with the conception of ‘all Israel’ that transcends individual Israelites remains to be seen. A simple approach may address the logical relationship of the two components, the personal (Israel) and the public (Israelite). It derives from a duality on the reference-point of ‘Israel’ that characterizes the organization of the theology of the Oral Torah. ‘Israel’, sometimes refers to the entire community, the holy people, and other times speaks of the individual Israelite. That point of differentiation helped us to deal in an orderly way with the demonstration of God’s justice as justice pertains to Israel and the Torah to the private life of the Israelite.2 True, the same principle, perfect justice, governs both components of the category, Israel (as all components of the system throughout). But each component requires articulation within its own framework. Indeed, what validated the subdivision of ‘Israel’ was that when ‘Israel’ in a composition stood for the individual Israelite, ‘Israel’ as the holy people rarely intervened. But when a passage clearly referred to the entirety of ‘Israel’, the people, the individual Israelite (except for saints such as Abraham) rarely played a role. So too, sin characterizes the attitude of all Israel and of individual Israelites, and while sin bears a single meaning in both settings, rebellion, its specific valence requires articulation and definition particular to each. So too with repentance, a turning toward God would mark true remorse for the individual sinner and also for all Israel, and the requirement of collective, not only individual, repentance is explicit in the passages just now considered. When we examine the principal components of the doctrine of soteriology through eschatology, which means, the account of the ultimate restoration of creation to its initial perfection, we deal [1] with Israel meaning the 2. Gentile individuals form part of the undifferentiated mass of idolators and only in special cases are judged otherwise, e.g., the Generation of the Flood, the Generation of the Dispersion, the Men of Sodom, or truly wicked figures like Balaam, Amalek, Haman, and the like.

288

This World and the World to Come

Israelite and then [2] with Israel meaning the people. But why that order and, logically, no other? Built into the eschatological doctrine and its logic of a world ordered by justice is even the detail at hand: this sequence, no other. To explain why, we recall how God’s justice governs even in the chaos of private life, despite the clear disruption brought about by dreadful actualities: the prosperous wicked, the penurious righteous, in all the many variations that the imperfect world presents. The doctrine of resurrection proves integral to, an absolute necessity for, the account of the world’s justice as sages recorded matters. Without the doctrine of resurrection for eternal life, the theology can have found no solution to the crisis of everyday life, which hardly confirms the logic of a system of a just order. Now, within that framework, the righteous, who will stand in judgement and enter the world to come, must by definition encompass in their number not only those alive at the very final moment of humanity’s life beyond Eden, but also all those who have ever lived. Otherwise where is the order, whence the justice, for the unnumbered ranks of the humble and virtuous who perished in poverty, knowing full well that the arrogant and wicked died after enjoying a long, satisfying, if nasty life? The promise of renewed life, forever, systematically accounted for the ultimate justice of existence, even for private lives. Now, by definition, the world to come cannot commence without the presence of all who belong to the party of life. And that requirement explains why we follow the logical sequence, first, resurrection of individuals and judgement of them, then, the world or the age to come and life eternal. There is no reversing the order. ‘Israel’ the holy people never dies. It is an enduring component of humanity, the part of humanity that knows God through God’s own self-manifestation in the Torah, the sector of mankind that accepts the law of the Torah as the will of God. This Israel, integral to the perfection of creation, cannot die any more than God can. Then to Israel the people, resurrection categorically does not pertain. True, judgement does. But for Israel the people judgement is not left to the end of days, when the dead will rise from their graves. For Holy Israel judgement takes place in this world and in this age. The Written Torah laid down the principle that Israel suffers for its sins, and everything that has happened since the closure of the Written Torah only confirms that principle. The very continuation of Scripture beyond the Pentateuch and the account of the inheritance of the Land makes that point, as we noted earlier. Not only so, but the very heart of the doctrine of paradigm against historical time – the explanation of Israel’s subjugation to the gentiles and their idolatry – carries within itself a profound statement about Israel’s identity, its enduring presence, from this age to the world to come, without interruption. Israel is judged and suffers its punishment in the here and now. That conviction animates the entire theological system before us. Then that same Israel, the never-dying people, emerges in the world to come fully at one with God. Indeed, that is the meaning of the advent of the world to come: ‘today if all Israel will it’, ‘today if all Israel keeps a single Sabbath’. To Israel the holy people, the resurrection of the dead therefore bears no categorical relevance.



The Restoration of Israel

289

The advent of the world to come and eternal life bears its own meaning for Israel the holy people. To Israel the Israelite, the resurrection of the dead forms the beginning of the restoration of Eden, now meaning, the restoration of Israel to the Land of Israel, as we have noted many times. In this way the somewhat confusing components of the theory of last things sort themselves out. As it happens, the documents of the Oral Torah sustain the distinction just now set forth. The sources that deal with resurrection rarely refer to the world to come, except as an ordinal consequence of resurrection. And when it comes to speak of resurrection, the Oral Torah rarely speaks of Holy Israel, but nearly always addresses Israel the Israelite. Along these same lines, gentiles occur only as a collectivity, non-Israel, and rarely as individuals, except in a special case of a gentile who had a special relationship with Israel, such as Balaam. Nearly all proofs in the Talmud, for example, for the facticity of resurrection invoke the metaphor of individual, not collective, life; even with the opportunity near at hand, in the very hermeneutics of the discourse, not a single one in the sizable exercise in b. Sanhedrin 11 points to the eternity of Holy Israel as evidence, in Scripture, for the resurrection of the dead. Most cases, most analogies, most arguments appeal to the private person. And, concomitantly, the sources that address the world to come ordinarily refer to all Israel, speaking of the Israelite only in the setting of the beginning of the age that will not end. The Israelite is subsumed within, though never obliterated by, all Israel. To be sure, we shall note that the promise of ‘the life of the world to come’ addresses individual Israelites, whose conduct dictates their ultimate destination; but there, implicit is the intervention of the last judgement, which assures the correct reward or punishment. In any event, overall, the theoretical logic just now spelled out conforms to the character of the bulk of the evidence in the Oral Torah. It is on that basis that I maintain we deal with normative doctrine, necessary to the theology as a whole, and not a mass of confused details. So much for the two principal components of the eschatological theology of the Oral Torah, resurrection and judgement, the world to come and eternal life. Let us now address the resurrection of the dead in its own terms. That conviction is stated in so many words: in the end of days, death will die. The certainty of resurrection derives from a simple fact of restorationist theology: God has already shown that he can do it, so Gen. Rab. 77.I.1: ‘You find that everything that the Holy One, blessed be he, is destined to do in the age to come he has already gone ahead and done through the righteous in this world. The Holy One, blessed be he, will raise the dead, and Elijah raised the dead’. The paramount composite on the subject derives its facts, demonstrating the coming resurrection of the dead, from the Written Torah, which, as we realize, serves as counterpart to nature for philosophy, the source of actualities. Sages deem urgent the task of reading outward and forward from Scripture, and at the critical conclusion of their theological system the Oral Torah focuses upon Scripture’s evidence, the regularization of Scripture’s facts. But

290

This World and the World to Come

the doctrine of resurrection as defined by the principal (and huge) composite of the Talmud of Babylonia contains a number of components: [1] origin of the doctrine in the Written Torah; [2] the gentiles and the resurrection of the dead; [3] the distinction between the days of the Messiah and the world to come; [4] the restoration of Israel to the Land of Israel. What of the Messiah? The Messiah figures at every point in the categorical structure of the Oral Torah’s eschatological thinking: [1] troubles attendant upon the coming of the Messiah, which either do or do not bring about Israelite [2] repentance, leading to [3] resurrection and a task then to be performed in [4] the world to come. But, important in two free-standing categories (resurrection, world to come) and a presence in the third (repentance), on its own account the Messiah-theme simply does not coalesce into an autonomous category. That theme certainly does not define a categorical imperative in the way that Israel and the gentiles, complementarity and correspondence, and the eschatological categories, sin and atonement, resurrection and the world to come, all do. By contrast, to take a specific case, the gentiles and idolatry encompass a broad range of data, interact with other categories, form a focus of thought and a logical centre; but they cannot then be reduced to some other categories, for example, Israel and the Torah, private life, repentance. For its part the Messiah-theme forms a subset of several categories and by itself does not take up an autonomous presence in the theology of the Oral Torah. The Messiah-theme fits into the primary categories but is itself divisible among them. So if the principal components of the Oral Torah’s eschatological theology turn out to be Israel in its two dimensions, private and public, what of that individual – the Messiah – who figures prominently, but not consistently or in a single coherent role, in all eschatological discourse? If Israel repents, the Messiah will come. A Messiah who exhibits inappropriate characteristics – arrogance in place of humility that is the requirement of salvation – embodies the anti-Messiah. So the Messiah exemplifies what is required. But what the Messiah actually does, as distinct from what his advent signifies, is hardly clear in the setting of repentance. When it comes to resurrection, on the one side, and the world to come, on the other, the figure of the Messiah again plays its part. But while the doctrine of resurrection and the one of the world to come encompass in each case a few simple and coherent principles, when it comes to the Messiah matters prove otherwise. Not only is there no categorical imperative identified with the Messiahtheme. There also is no logic that affords structure and system to that theme. We cannot imagine a Christianity without (a) Christology. Here we have a Judaism in which the Messiah-theme in the eschatological framework takes on significance only in contexts defined by other categories altogether. That he comes and goes, appears and then passes from the scene, in fact is not a single figure but two (or more) marks his systemic subordination, the Messiah-theme’s categorical inadequacy. That fact is borne out by the first and most important element of theological thinking about the Messiahtheme: the multiplicity of Messiahs, even in the eschatological setting – the



The Restoration of Israel

291

multiplicity and also the transience. Like Elijah, the Messiah is forerunner and precursor, but he is hardly an enduring player in the eschatological drama. Only God is. Time and again we shall see that the Messiah refers back to God for instructions on what he is to do. A mark of categorical subordination of the Messiah-theme is the diversity of Messiahs, each with his own story. One Messiah comes out of the line of Joseph, another out of the line of David. Both Messiahs (and others in that same classification, for example, the Messiah who is anointed to be high priest in charge of the army (Deut. 20.2-7, m. Sotah 8)), are mortal and subject to the human condition. One Messiah is murdered, replaced by another. The Messiah, moreover, is subject to the impulse to do evil, like any other man. The Messiah plays a transient role in the eschatological drama. People want the Messiah to come – that is the premise of the stories told in connection with repentance – but that is only because he will inaugurate the eschatological drama, not because, on his own, he will bring the drama to its conclusion. Only God will. 3. Restoring the public order: the world to come For us it is not easy to imagine a thought-world in which patterns, rather than sequences of events treated as cause and effect, are asked to organize experience. Yet the theology of the Oral Torah sets forth a thought world in which at stake are not beginnings and endings in an ordinal or (other) temporal sense. At issue, rather, are balances and proportions, the match of this to that, start to finish, Eden and world to come. True, that mode of thought is not commonplace outside of the rule-seeking sciences of nature and society. These worlds of intellect do not tell the teleologicallyframed story of a molecule or the history of a law of economics, but seek to formulate in abstract terms the concrete facts of molecules and enduring rules of economics that describe secular facts whatever the temporal context. But, I think it is now clear, that is precisely how sages think, which is to say, in the manner of the natural philosophers of antiquity in general. And they have in mind paradigms of relationship. Specifically, when sages speak of the world to come, their language signifies a final change in relationship between God and man, a model of how God and man relate that marks the utter restoration of the world order God had originally contemplated. That is the way man and God conduct their cosmic transaction that God had intended from the beginning and for eternity – time having no place in his category-formation for ordering creation. The point, specifically, is that Israel enjoys a set of relationships with God that are not differentiated temporally and certainly not organized in causal patterns of sequence, in ordered, causative sequence through time, but in other ways. How then are these relationships classified in this governing model? They are either rebellious or obedient, selfish and arrogant or selfless and humble, and so on, as we have seen at great length. Since at issue are patterns of relationship, the circumstance and context, whether temporal

292

This World and the World to Come

or singular in some other way, make no impact. That is because they make no difference, the relationship transcending circumstance. Therefore it is entirely reasonable that the world to come match the world that has been – why not? The one, like the other, will find its definition in how God and man relate. That is what I mean when I claim that we deal with modes of thought of an other-than-historical and temporal character. That kind of thinking makes difficult the use of the word eschatology in reference to the world to come. The restorationist character of the theology of the Oral Torah explains what sages mean. That theology, by reason of the modes of thought that define its logic of making connections and drawing conclusions, requires that endings match beginnings, the relationships of God and man at the one point matching those at the other. We should err if we invoked in this connection the word ‘cyclical’ and supposed that sages contemplate a recurring cycle of existence, beginnings and endings and new beginnings, such as nature presents. Cyclical thinking is as alien to sages as historical thinking, because it presupposes an eternal return, an endless recapitulation of the pattern. But that is not what sages have in mind. They anticipate a one-time return, then an eternity of perfection, as we shall see later in this chapter. The perfection of world order leaves no alternative. Once man has repented and conformed his will to God’s, that relationship, embodying measure for measure in a most just and merciful realization, attains perfection and, man’s will and God’s meeting, finality, complementarity, utter correspondence. That is why there is no room in sages’ system for an endless cycle of sin, punishment, atonement, reconciliation. I see, within the system, three embodiments: Adam loses Eden, Israel, the new Adam, loses the Land – two times, then Israel repents, the dead are raised, Israel is restored to the Land, and eternal life follows; in that model, with its stress on eternal life with God, no logical place opens up for the cyclical replay of the pattern. Paradigmatic thinking then finds its position between the historical-linear and ahistorical-cyclical kings. So here the story comes full circle that commences with God’s creation of a perfect world defined by a just order. That world exhibits flaws; it is not perfect by reason of the character of man. But the world will be restored to perfection (requiring, then, eternity), man to Eden, Israel to the Land of Israel, through man’s, and Israel’s, act of repentance and reconciliation with God. That act of reconciliation, prepared for in countless lives of virtue and acts of merit, is realized in the world or age to come. Through its account of that world or age, therefore, that theology writes the last, but unending, chapter in the story of how God’s justice establishes and ultimately restores the world order of perfection and equity. The world to come concludes the eschatological series that is comprised by sequenced paradigms that cover [1] past, [2] present, [3] Israel’s collective repentance, [4] the age (days) of the Messiah, [5] days of the war of Gog and Magog, [6] the resurrection of the dead, [7] the judgement, and onward to the last things at [8] the world to come. If resurrection concerns the individual Israelite, with some further implications for the whole of Israel, the world to



The Restoration of Israel

293

come that follows encompasses all Israel. The one embodies salvation for the private person, the other, redemption for the entire holy people, now at the end encompassing all of mankind within Israel. But what, exactly, when sages set forth their theological eschatology, do they mean by )bh MlwO(, the world or the age that is coming? The world or the age to come (the Hebrew MlwO( may sustain either the locative, world, or the temporal-ordinal, age) completes, and necessarily forms the final chapter, of the theology of the Oral Torah. The age that is coming will find Adam’s successor in Eden’s replacement, that is, resurrected, judged and justified Israel – comprising nearly all Israelites who ever lived – now eternally rooted in the Land of Israel. As we have seen, the governing theology sets forth its main components in a simple narrative, and very often, a single sentence captures the story. Here is such a version of the complete tale of the world to come in one short sentence: When Israel returns to God, God will restore their fortunes. The sentence remains brief enough with the added adjectival clause, in the model of Adam and Eve in Eden. Everything else amplifies details. That simple sentence is explicitly built on the verb-root for return, encompassing restore, bw# (shub), yielding hbw#t (teshubah), repentance as well as the causative form of the verb, by#h (hashib), thus return or restore. It thereby defines the condition (intransitive) return or repentance, for the advent of the age to come, which encompasses the action (transitively) to return matters to their original condition. How, exactly, do sages envisage restoration? Predictably, because they think paradigmatically and not in historical (let alone cyclical) sequences, sages find models of the end in beginnings. That is why in this context they cluster, and systematically review, the two principal ones, liberation, restoration. First is the account of Israel’s liberation from Egypt, the initial act of redemption, which will be recapitulated in the end. Second, as we have seen many times now, comes the story of Adam and Eden for their picture of the world to come, the return of Adam to Eden, now in the form of Israel to Zion. (A secondary motif in the latter paradigm contains the complementary category, Gehenna, to which gentiles – meaning, those who deny God – and Israelites who sufficiently sin are consigned when they are denied life.) In the latter case the important point for paradigmatic thinking is that there is no meaningful difference between the world to come and ‘the Garden of Eden’. At hand is something other than the eschatological type of teleology such as is always set forth by people who organize experience in terms of a linear sequence of singular events, deemed each to cause the next. Nor do the sages conceive of a sequence rigidly differentiated by the temporal categories, past, present, and future. And with no conception of singular, unique and sequential events but rather exemplary ones, the sages do not imagine that events are linked so that that sequence, past through future, accounts for the beginning, middle, and end of time. That is why, while we deal with a teleology that speaks of last things, so that the category, eschatology, serves, in fact we should not confuse sages’ theological teleology with a historicallygrounded theological eschatology at all.

294

This World and the World to Come

The reason, on the affirmative side, is that, for the Oral Torah, ‘last’ does not define a temporal category, or even an ordinal one in the exact sense. By ‘last things’, sages’ theology means, the model of things that applies at the last, from now on, for eternity. By that, in sages’ case, they mean to say, the last, the final realization or recapitulation of the ever-present and enduring paradigm(s), creation and Exodus for example. That is, I cannot sufficiently stress, a paradigm organizes and classifies relationships, treats concrete events as merely exemplary. So the actualities of this one’s conduct with, and attitude toward, that One are restated in generalizations, laws or rules. ‘Love God’ defines a relationship, and actions and attitudes that express that relationship then may be exemplified by incidents that show what happens when Israel loves God, or what happens when Israel does not love God. These further may be captured, many cases by a single pattern. In concrete terms that means intense interest will focus on the way in which the redemption of Israel from Egypt compares with the advent of the world to come. This point is made explicitly. The fall of the oppressor at the start of Israel’s history and the fall of the nations at the end, the character of the redemption of that time and of the coming time, will be matched by the fall of the other at the end and the traits of the redemption that is coming. So much for the definition of the world to come in the other-thantemporal-historical terms that are required. The world to come marks the final condition of world order. It signifies the realization of correct and perfect relationships between God and man, God and Israel in particular. Those who reject God having been disposed of, we realize, the age to come finds its definition in the time of total reconciliation between God and man. It is the age when man loves God and accepts his dominion and completes the work of repentance and atonement for acts of rebellion. While, clearly, that reconciliation of God and man takes place in individual life, in which case, as already instantiated, we may use the language of salvation, it also governs the public life of Israel, in which case we may speak of redemption. That leads us to wonder what is at stake in the location of the theology’s final chapter in what is clearly not a historical-eschatological setting but one that finds definition in intangibles of relationship: reconciliation, return, renewal, right attitude. So we reasonably ask, what indeed do sages have in mind when they speak of the world to come – concrete actualities, or intangible feelings and attitudes, impalpable matters of the spirit? May we suppose that we deal with a mere narration, in mythic form, of what in fact represents an inner, other-worldly, intangible and spiritual encounter? That is to say, if all that is at stake is abstract patterns of relationships that happen to come to expression in tales of the eschaton, one might suppose that the conception, ‘the world to come’, simply serves as another way of saying, ‘man reconciled with God’. Then, through paradigmatic thinking, sages should be represented as finding in the myth a vivid and palpable way of speaking of the inner life of intentionality and attitude. That is a possible reading of the character of the discourse at hand. But I think that that would drastically misrepresent the worldly reality,



The Restoration of Israel

295

the concrete actuality, of sages’ account of matters, their intent to speak to the here and now – ‘today, if you will it’! We contemplate what is palpable and real in an ordinary, everyday sense, not what is intangible or merely ‘spiritual’, in the vulgar sense. First, while their Israel is the holy people, living in the plane of transcendence, their Israel truly lives in the trenchant world of marketplace and farm, and engages in the material and physical transactions of farming and love. Not a single line in the entire Oral Torah would sustain the reading of ‘Israel’ as other than (in a different theology’s language) ‘after the flesh’. Sages found no cause to differentiate an ‘Israel after the spirit’ from their ‘Israel after the flesh’, since when they referred to Israel, they meant all those who know God as God made himself manifest, meaning, in the Torah, and at the end, that Israel, shorn of the handful of aliens (those who deny God, the resurrection of the dead, the resurrection of the dead as a fact set forth by God in the Torah, and so on), all together, in the flesh, sees God and enters onto eternal life. Second, their Israel does constitute a political entity – this world’s embodiment of the locus of God’s rule – and as we have already noted, God’s intervention at the very least will bring about a radical change in the politics of world order, Rome giving way to Israel. The theology of intentionality governs only by appeal to the theoretical politics that sages put forth as medium for their statement. Sages, like philosophers, were public intellectuals, undertaking the work of the community of Holy Israel (sages) or the polis (philosophers). They thought about concrete, practical things, and at no point can we identify an area of the law or lore of the Oral Torah that has no bearing upon the everyday world of the here and now. Third, when they speak of the world to come, the sages mean a world that is public and shared, not private and inner-facing, and certainly not personal as distinct from public. It is not a world of relativities and relationships as these intangibles are concretely symbolized, but a world of real encounter. Sages know a palpable God who punishes arrogance and rewards humility, in both instances in worldly ways. Prayers are answered with rain or healing, virtue responded to with grace bearing material benefit, acts of generosity with miracles. Heaven intervenes in matters of health and sickness, in the abundance or scarcity of crops, in good fortune and ill. Sages insist upon an exact correspondence between practicalities and transcendent relationships. With the advent of the world or age to come, exactly what happens, in the process of restoration of world order to the condition of Eden, and of Israel to the Land of Israel? Samuel’s minimalist view, b. Sanh. 91b, ‘There is no difference between the world to come and the days of the messiah, except the end of the subjugation of the exilic communities of Israel’, alerts us to the breadth of opinion on how the days of the Messiah will differ from the world to come. But a clear sequence governs. First comes salvation in the aspect of resurrection and judgement pertaining to individuals, and then, immediately following judgement, the world or age to come marks the time of redemption for the holy people, Israel. And the bulk of the evidence supports the view

296

This World and the World to Come

that the age to come differs from this age, as well as from the time of the Messiah, in more ways than the political one that Samuel (within the theory of the regnant theology set forth here) rightly selects as primary. That the Messiah, whose advent marks the period before the resurrection of individuals, takes on a public task in the age to come, one already adumbrated. It is the reunion of Israel with the Land of Israel, such as brings about the resurrection of the dead, but now with attention to living Israel when the age to come dawns. For the task of the king-messiah is to gather the exiles and restore Israel to the Land of Israel. That is why the Messiah has an important task to perform not only in his own age, in raising the dead, but in the last age as well, though so far as I can discern, beyond that one action of restoring the exiles to the holy land, the Messiah plays no consequential part in the life of the age to come. What makes sages so sure of themselves? To them, what gives Israel hope even now is that the prophetic warnings about punishment for sin have come true, so the prophetic consolation about God’s response to Israel’s repentance also will come true. That is, for them, a natural result of a theology that finds perfection in balance, order, proportion, above all complementarity. Just as the prophets warned that Israel would be punished for its rebellion against God, so they insisted that Israel would attain reconciliation through its repentance to God. Now that the first of the two elements of the equation, punishment for arrogant sin, has been realized, sages find solid grounds for certainty in the ultimate fulfilment also of the promise of reconciliation in consequence of repentance in humility. The condition of the world today, sages held, contains within itself not only the past and its consequence but, as a matter of certainty, also the future and its consolation. All are present in the here and now, as the Oral Torah says, ‘Today, if you want’.

Part VII Response

Chapter 17

Salvation among the Jews: Some Comments and Observations George W. E. Nickelsburg 1. Introduction It has often been reiterated in the past few decades that Jewish belief and practice in the Greco-Roman period was a variegated phenomenon. Jacob Neusner has even suggested that we should speak of a plurality of Judaisms. This volume with its focus on a single theme enables us to see with perhaps more clarity than usual the multifaceted nature of ancient Jewish religion. A number of our authors have expressed some tentativeness about even using the term ‘soteriology’ with reference to ancient Jewish beliefs. The noun was coined to designate an aspect of Christian theology that was concerned with the salvation/redemption/atonement that was effected through the death (especially) and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, and it brings with it an element of systematization that is foreign to many of the texts in the corpus of ancient Jewish literature. So, with reference to early Jewish belief(s) and practice(s), I use the terms as shorthand and with caution. ‘Salvation’ is the act or process of saving from something, or the status of having been saved, or the means by which one is saved. This noun is also problematic, in part because of its association with the Christian theology that focuses on the cross and resurrection. Additionally, as I shall indicate below, the bliss and wholeness described in ancient Jewish texts is not always a consequence of having been rescued from some dangerous event or situation, and it will be useful to emphasize this distinction. Having said this, it seems to be true that the largest part of the corpus of post-biblical Jewish literature (and, perhaps, the Hebrew canon as well) has a common setting in what its authors perceive to be hard times: persecution, oppression, war, other kinds of disaster, the loneliness and pressures of a minority living out its convictions in an alien environment – from which one needs to be saved. Why there are not more extant biblical and non-biblical texts that describe and celebrate happy times – I leave to others to discuss. In this conclusion, I shall comment on each of the chapters seriatim, as a kind of running narrative with some glances backward and forward. Then

300

This World and the World to Come

I shall offer a brief synthesis that brings together some of the similarities and differences among the texts as they describe God’s activity on behalf of humanity, that is usually, Israel. 2. Analysis of the essays 2.1. Judith The book of Judith and Michael Bird’s discussion of the work immediately problematize the terms ‘salvation’ and ‘soteriology’ as they are commonly used in Christian circles. Rather than delivering Israel from sins committed by individuals or the community, God prevents Israel from committing the sins that would bring on divine punishment. Nonetheless, the notion of salvation is appropriate, because the people of Bethulia are saved or delivered from slavery and utter destruction by the Babylonian army. Such a use of the root ye¯ša ° ((#a$y') – which may have occurred in the Hebrew original of 8.17 – is common enough in the Hebrew Bible, as Bird notes, but the idea is frequent (here and elsewhere) even where other verbs are used. The God of Israel delivers the covenant people from a variety of dangers to which they do not (or indeed do) deserve to fall victim. Bird notes that alongside of God, Achior, Uzziah, and especially Judith (as well as the populace in general) are agents of deliverance. Within the framework of his discussion that is true. However, it is Judith, with her unwavering faith, who towers over all of them, including Uzziah. By placing herself in an acutely dangerous situation she is a foil to the people, who are almost certain that the Babylonians will take the city (7.19-32; 8.9-17), and by this comparison, she is clearly the heroine of the piece. Of special interest is the idea of foreknowledge or even foreordination noted by Bird (see 9.5-6). While it does not play as large a role here as it does, for example, in the book of Tobit,1 taken together with Tobit, it demonstrates that this motif is by no means limited to the Qumran texts that are often cited in this respect. 2.2. Third Maccabees Like the book of Judith, Third Maccabees is a story about divine deliverance from imminent disaster at the hands of a powerful, angry gentile monarch; indeed, this is the plot of the story from beginning to end. As in Judith the deliverance turns on the prayer of the pious. Here, however, there are two prayers, and they are much longer than Judith’s, and to strengthen their case before the Almighty, they cite not one but numerous acts of deliverance in 1. George W. E. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature Between the Bible and the Mishnah (Minneaplois: Fortress, 2nd edn, 2005), pp. 31–2.



Salvation among the Jews

301

Israel’s history. Also in this respect, Third Maccabees does not focus on a single person (although Simon and Eleazar are central in the two episodes). Different from Judith, where divine deliverance is embodied in the narrative, here as Cousland points out, this narrative is also loaded with vocabulary that denotes this deliverance. This difference reminds us that a motif, theme, or emphasis need not be found solely by means of a concordance search. The text as a whole, its ‘plot’, genre, and sub-forms, as well as the language in which it is cast, reveal what its author(s) or redactor(s) were up to. Like Bird’s treatment of Judith, Cousland’s discussion places the topic under consideration in a broader context, in this case in an analysis of how characterization contributes to the text’s central theme. The this-worldly nature of deliverance in Third Maccabees (as well as in Judith) demonstrates that despite the development of apocalypticism, not all Jewish authors in the Greco-Roman period were caught up in other-worldly hope and speculation (see also my comments on Tobit, 1 Enoch, and 1 Maccabees, below). 2.3. The book of Biblical Antiquities (Pseudo-Philo) Preston Sprinkle’s nuanced discussion correctly asserts that in PseudoPhilo Israel’s salvation is a function of her eternal covenant with her God. Much of his discussion centres on the presence or, as he argues, the nonpresence of repentance in the Deuteronomic historical pattern that this text has in common with the book of Judges. This element of repentance he takes over from my first treatment of Pseudo-Philo. However, as I look back over the article (and my later treatments of the book)2 I rarely use the word ‘repentance’. What I meant, but did not make clear, is that the good leaders were, in fact, the enactors of repentance (e.g., Abraham refuses to be an idolater). So, Sprinkle is correct: Israel ‘as a whole’ rarely repents. But it is also true that the divinely appointed saviours of Israel are righteous exceptions to the people of Israel. Sprinkle’s second, related point pertains to agency. He states: ‘Pseudo-Philo downplays human agency since he undermines the necessity of repentance: human agency is not a precondition for future salvation’. By this he appears to limit ‘salvation’ to the resurrection of the dead. Perhaps this reduces the discussion to a matter of terminology. I would put it this way: in addition to the several references to future salvation, Pseudo-Philo repeatedly describes how human agents effect Israel’s deliverance (salvation!) from her gentile oppressors. Thus one important aspect of Pseudo-Philo’s ‘soteriology’ parallels that in the book of Judith (and both espouse militant activity against the gentiles). For Pseudo-Philo, ‘salvation’ is a multifaceted event: 2. Idem, ‘Good and Bad Leaders in Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum’, in Ideal Figures in Ancient Judaism (eds John J. Collins and George W. E. Nickelsburg; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1980), pp. 49–64; and Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, pp. 265–8.

302

This World and the World to Come

deliverance from Israel’s enemies in this world, and the future resurrection from the dead. 2.4. Daniel In his discussion of the first of five apocalypses, Lorenzo DiTommaso lays out with clarity the complexities of Daniel’s understanding of divine deliverance. The lives of Daniel and his friends are spared from fiery and ferocious death. In a very different way, the righteous dead of the end time are raised from Sheol to a new everlasting life. Thus, these two forms of deliverance anticipate by more than two centuries the same pairing in PseudoPhilo. However different from Pseudo-Philo, these forms of deliverance are explicitly functions of God’s judgement as this is indicated in the form of the Danielic tales (but see the story of Abraham and the fiery furnace)3 and in the judgement scene in chapter 7 and the vignette in 12.1-3. When in the circumstances of persecution and unjust death, the author/redactor of Daniel brings together the tales and the visions, he both justifies the actions (or inactions) of God and assures the righteous that they will be vindicated even when experience belies the Deuteronomic historical pattern that was central to his readers’ religious tradition. 2.5. The Apocalypse of Abraham The degree to which Poirier strains to find the soteriology of the Apocalypse of Abraham suggests that ‘soteriology’ may not be a category that we should be looking for in this text, or indeed in any one of a number of Jewish texts. I jest, of course. The covenantal religion in much of Jewish literature and empirical reality itself often raised the issue: how and when will God vindicate God and God’s people? My question here is: what is this book about? Is it about who gets saved and how? Abraham is delivered from the power of Azazel, and this may be reminiscent of the temptation of Jesus. However, I am struck by the parallels between the first part of the book and the narrative in Jub. 12.1-20 and 17.15–18.12, which recount Abram’s interaction with his idolatrous father, his burning of the idol temple, and the transformation of the Akedah into an ordeal between God and Mastemah.4 In this respect, the fate of Israel hangs on the events related in the stories in Jubilees and the Apocalypse of Abraham. Without the obedience of the patriarch-to-be, would there have been a chosen nation, and if so, with relation to which event, and in what sense would soteriology be an applicable category?

3. On the form of the Danielic tales as stories of persecution, rescue, and vindication, see Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, pp. 17–22. 4. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, pp. 70–1.



Salvation among the Jews

303

2.6. Fourth Ezra As Jonathan Moo demonstrates, salvation in 4 Ezra is inextricably bound up with the problem of theodicy. As with Daniel, God’s people have suffered a crushing blow from their gentile oppressors, and as in Daniel, Fourth Ezra finds a solution in the future with the destruction of its enemies and the resurrection of the dead. Indeed, ‘Ezra’ explicitly draws on Daniel’s visions to supply material for his own (4 Ezra 12.11). However, it is precisely this use of the Danielic source that enables us to see how far this author has moved in his quest for an answer to the problem of the absence of divine justice. The stories of Daniel and his friends, with their facile happy endings effected by an angelic deliverer, have as their counterparts in the order of this text a set of anguished Job-like dialogues about divine justice. Pressed to their end: should not the Creator be held responsible for allowing the covenant people – as well as the rest of humanity – to transmit the virus (we might say the gene) of sin that is in their hearts. The answer, at least for Israel, or those few in Israel who are faithful to the covenant, lies in the future, as it is then described in a set of epiphanic visions that are, to some degree, the counterpart to Job’s theophany (as well as to Daniel’s visions). Apart from Job no other piece of Israelite literature so insistently plumbs the black hole of theodicy. 2.7. Second Baruch As in its sister, contemporary apocalypse, Fourth Ezra, it is the Roman destruction of Jerusalem that triggers the issue of salvation. For Baruch, as for Ezra, salvation is tied to the problem of theodicy, although Baruch does not press the question nearly to the degree that Ezra does; the dialogues move along, and eventually Baruch is simply convinced. The apocalypse is, in a way, a rather naive, orthodox counterpart to Fourth Ezra. Salvation is deliverance both from the disaster of 70 ce and from the miseries of a corrupted and corrupting world. As in Fourth Ezra (and Daniel to a degree) the author focuses on the timed, periodized continuum of history that moves ineluctably to the end time (for Baruch, ‘the consummation of the time[s]/world [age]’). There are some tensions as to how, when, and where this salvation takes place. Zion will be restored when the perfection of its heavenly archetype appears on Zion (4.2-6). When the Messiah comes, the dead will be raised and the Messiah will rule over a newly created world (chapters 24–30), which is described in explicitly this-worldly, paradisiacal terms (chapters 29–30, but especially chapters 72–74). In addition, however, when the resurrection takes place, the transformed righteous will ascend to the presently invisible world, where they will dwell with angels and among the stars (chapters 40–51). Our western, logical minds notwithstanding, the author depicts salvation as the future deliverance of the righteous (who are called upon to be faithful to the Torah) from corruption to incorruption,

304

This World and the World to Come

straddling a new creation down here and the eternal realm of incorruption up there. 2.8. Second Enoch Second Enoch is one of the most difficult texts to comment on, whatever aspect one wishes to discuss, and Macaskill has laid out the issues in detail and with clarity. More might be said about the relationship of 2 Enoch and 1 Enoch.5 At many points, its macrostructure mirrors that of the 1 Enoch that we have in the Ethiopic version. Its lack of interest in the Mosaic covenant and much of the Pentateuch excepting the creation story fits well with a similar disinterest in much of 1 Enoch.6 Second Enoch’s emphasis on salvation mediated through the revelations of Enoch has an exact counterpart in 1 Enoch.7 Where exactly this leads is a matter to be discussed, perhaps to a provenance in Egypt.8 Its emphasis on the exalted Enoch and on Enoch’s function as the one who takes away the sin of the world seems to exclude a Christian provenance in any meaningful sense of the word. Macaskill appears to be on the right track when he places 2 Enoch at some fringe point in ‘Judaism’, although perhaps this observation should be mitigated when one places the text between 1 Enoch and some of the Jewish mystical texts. We are dealing with a variegated Jewish sociology. As to the relationships between text-types (perhaps a better term than recensions), it may be helpful to consider Michael Stone’s discussion of the relationships among the Adam texts,9 although the difference in the texttypes here may be better mirrored in those of the Testament of Abraham.10 With respect to the book’s teaching on ‘salvation’, what is one saved from? Can we imagine circumstances similar to those addressed, or implied, in most of the other books discussed in the previous chapters? Or do we better refer to the rewards and punishments that are the consequences of one’s behaviour apart from any dangerous circumstances. This seems to be the outcome of Macaskill’s essay.

5. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, pp. 224–5. 6. Idem, 1 Enoch 1: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch, Chapters 1–36; 81– 108 (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001), pp. 58–61. 7. Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch 1: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch, p. 51 8. On 1 Enoch in Egypt, see Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch 1: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch, p. 103. 9. Michael E. Stone, Ancient Judaism: New Visions and Views (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011), pp. 154–61. 10. See the articles by George W. E. Nickelsburg, Francis Schmidt, R. A. Martin, and Robert A. Kraft in Studies on the Testament of Abraham (ed. George W. E. Nickelsburg; SBLSCS, 6; Missoula, MT; Scholars Press, 1976), pp. 23–137.



Salvation among the Jews

305

2.9. The Psalms of Solomon Kenneth Atkinson adequately demonstrates that the soteriology of the Psalms of Solomon is a complex matter. Nonetheless, as he shows, the text offers a satisfying answer to the issues raised in this volume, and it shares elements found in a number of the texts that are under consideration here. If ‘salvation’ involves rescue from imminent or present distress, the expected advent of the Davidic Anointed One, described at length in the Pss. Sol. 17, speaks to: the Roman invasion and occupation of Jerusalem; the Israelite Diaspora; and the pollution of the Temple (‘He will purify Jerusalem, making it holy even as it was from the beginning’, v. 30). The priestly defilement of the Temple created a major problem for the Jews. It rendered inoperative a major means of cleansing impurities and atoning for individual and national sins, and the present state of things indicated that the nation was suffering divine punishment for public and private sins. This punishment was to be expected, given the structure of God’s covenant with Israel. So God’s punishment was another facet of the suffering that was experienced in the Roman occupation. This situation notwithstanding, God’s covenant with Israel is an everlasting covenant, as it is for Pseudo-Philo. But much clearer than in PseudoPhilo, the everlasting covenant applies to ‘the righteous’ and ‘the devout’ of Israel. Since they are not sinless, salvation for them is enabled through their acknowledgment of their sin and their acts of self-abasement. Thus, divine punishment involves, ironically, a process of discipline, scourging, and purification, which enables salvation. These acts (and rituals) function as an ersatz for what should be taking place in the Temple. The ultimate salvation, if we wish to call it that, is the promise of everlasting life in the light of the Lord. This is more the fulfilment of the covenantal promises for righteous behaviour than rescue from a present or imminent danger, unless we think of that danger as the death that awaits all mortals. To summarize: that from which one must be saved consists variously in: the Roman oppression; its other side, divine retribution for sin; this sin itself, both individual and national; a polluted sanctuary; and (perhaps premature) death. The means of salvation are: the coming of the Messiah; God’s punishment qua discipline; human response to that discipline in the framework of an everlasting covenant; and resurrection and everlasting life. The Psalms of Solomon are a rich resource for one’s understanding of Israelite religion as it deals with the issue of ‘salvation’. 2.10. Philo of Alexandria From the deliverance from physical danger described or presumed in most of the texts above, Ronald Cox takes us to a different world (literally and figuratively) in the writings of the Alexandrian Philo. With the help of the divine logos, God ‘wishes to purify the soul’ (from what?) so that it

306

This World and the World to Come

is not ‘encumbered by corporeality’, and to deliver it from ‘unstable and chance concerns’. Souls, whose origin is in heaven, can ascend to the place whence they came. This is ‘salvation’, in the sense of deliverance from trouble, and thus it is notably different from the usage and conceptuality in the previous texts. It also prepares us for the worldview in many of the Gnostic texts. Indeed, it is striking that this Jewish philosophy sets forth a worldview that the Gnostics will combine with an exegesis of Genesis that is very different from Philo’s. Moreover, as Cox suggests but does not pursue, some of the Jewish apocalypticists’ work with a worldview that is in some respects functionally similar to that of Philo, even if some of them (the authors of 1 Enoch 1–71, see below) expect a future transformation of the present world. 2.11. The Wisdom of Solomon Daniel Harrington lays out nicely the ways in which the three parts of the Wisdom of Solomon are held together by a theme of danger and salvation, and the diverse manner in which both danger (ungodliness, ignorance, and idolatry) and salvation are effected. In the broader context of the present volume, the book of Wisdom and its soteriology offer a complex set of parallels to various texts treated here. Its closest of kin is the writings of Philo as they are discussed by Ronald Cox. Almost certainly Wisdom is of Alexandrian provenance. It employs the language of the Greek philosophers (not least Plato). An immortal soul is the object of salvation. The logos is the agent of salvation (in the last of its three sections). Like Daniel, Fourth Ezra, Second Baruch, and less obviously Pseudo-Philo, this author sees the path from right or wrong conduct as it leads through divine judgement to life or destruction beyond the grave. It differs from these texts in its focus on the immortality of the soul rather than resurrection. In its concern about persecution or a terribly disastrous event – already enacted or imminent – it finds parallels in Daniel, Judith, Third Maccabees, Pseudo-Philo, the Apocalypse of Abraham, Fourth Ezra, Second Baruch, and the Psalms of Solomon. The genre of the story of the persecuted and vindicated righteous one (chapters 1–6) finds a counterpart in Daniel 1–6 and also Third Maccabees, with which it has a number of interesting verbal parallels.11 Its reshaping of Isa. 52.13–53.12 (chapters 1–6) recalls the allusion to the Servant Song in Dan. 12.1-3.12 The motif of divine discipline is expressed in more explicit detail in the Psalms of Solomon. Numerous other points of comparison and contrast are implied in the other essays in this volume. 11. On the genre, see George W. E. Nickelsburg, Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal Life in Intertestamental Judaism and Early Christianity (HTS 56; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2nd edn, 2006), pp. 67–90. On the parallels between the Wisdom of Solomon and 3 Maccabees, see Nickelsburg, Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal Life, pp. 115–17. 12. Nickelsburg, Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal Life, pp. 38–41, 83–108.



Salvation among the Jews

307

2.12. The Qumran Pesharim As Alex P. Jassen demonstrates, the two problems that confronted the authors of the Pesharim and the community of which they were members (and leaders) were: a) Jews of a different persuasion (some of whom had split from this community); and b) the Roman armies that had invaded and wreaked havoc on the Land of Israel. If we apply the term salvation to the latter, we learn little more than the expectation that their enemies will be delivered for judgement into the hand of the chosen and, according to one text that exegetes Isaiah 10 and 11, into the hand of the ‘Prince of the Congregation’, that is, the Davidic king. As to the matter of religious differences, Jassen focuses his discussion on how one receives the covenantal blessings and who receives them. As one might expect from Deuteronomy, it is through obedience to the Torah that the chosen are blessed. In addition to this, much of the Qumran sectarian literature is concerned with the right observance of the Torah, sometimes explicitly as it has been revealed through the Teacher of Righteousness, to whom the members of the community adhere and whom their enemies reject. Thus salvation, if we want to use that term here (rather than blessing), involves revelation. As Jassen points out, the Pesharim have little to say about the specifics of eschatological bliss. Most remarkable is the expectation that (following Psalm 37) the congregation will inherit the Land and the high mountain of Israel. The locus of their future blessing will be in the Land and not in heaven. I emphasize five points that relate to our topic. 1) Final blessing is the result of Torah obedience. 2) Such obedience must be right obedience in keeping with revelation. 3) Like the apocalypses, the writers of the Pesharim are far more concerned with the present woes than with the specifics of their future bliss.13 4) Where they speak of it, this future is this-worldly (doubtless as it is transformed). 5) ‘Salvation’ from something is limited to the devastation by the Roman armies and, in the Psalms pesher, to the community’s conflict with the Jerusalem authorities. To this we might add, though it is not explicit, the temptation to stray from the right observance of the Torah, is an issue similar to what Harrington finds as central in the first and second parts of the Wisdom of Solomon. 2.13. Abraham as soteriological example in the Qumran Scrolls As Alex Jassen and Markus Bockmuehl argue in their essays and as is widely accepted, at Qumran (and elsewhere) faithfulness to the covenant is a requirement for the ultimate blessings of the covenant. Here Ian Werrett

13. George W. E. Nickelsburg, ‘1 Enoch’s Vague Visions of a Future Social Order: Foils to its Vivid Portrayals of the Present Chaos’, in Jewish and Christian Visions of the Social Order: Describing, Analyzing, and Comparing Systems of the Formative Age (eds Jacob Neusner, Bruce D. Chilton, and Alan J. Avery-Peck; Washington, DC: University Press of America, forthcoming).

308

This World and the World to Come

focuses on the figure and function of Abraham at Qumran. He argues that the book of Jubilees was held in high esteem at Qumran: there are an impressive number of Jubilees manuscripts spread through five of the 11 caves; the book is explicitly cited in the Damascus Document; its treatment of the Abraham material indicates that so-called Pseudo-Jubilees (4Q225) is dependent on Jubilees. Citing CD 3.2-4 and with reference to 16.6, he concludes that Abraham provided the people at Qumran with an emulative example that facilitated their faithfulness to the everlasting covenant, which had been initiated with him and passed on to Isaac and Jacob. Whether Abraham ‘was frequently [italics mine] pressed into service by the Qumran community and other Second Temple theologians to function as the obedient Jew par excellence’ is an assertion that requires more documentation than Werrett provides. The material that he cites from Jubilees is a parade example; Abraham’s obedience at the Akedah is tied to his ‘faithfulness’, although it is not in Genesis 22. As to other Second Temple writings, the tradition of Abraham’s faithfulness at the Akedah is reiterated in Sir. 44.20 and 1 Macc. 2.52, as well as in Heb. 11.17 and, perhaps, Jas 2.2123. Moreover, the citing of (catalogues of) heroes of the past as examples and inspiration for the present was common in the Greco-Roman world. In our literatures see the contexts of the aforementioned texts (1 Macc. 2.51-60; Heb. 11.1–12.2; and perhaps Sir. 44–50; see also the examples in 4 Maccabees, especially 16.18-22). It would have been interesting to have been a fly on the wall of the Qumran dining room and to have overheard how the community masters exhorted obedience to the covenant and to what degree they did so by citing the examples of Abraham and other hero(ine)s of the past. 2.14. The Qumran Community Rule In the Qumran Community Rule the belief in, and hope for, salvation has many facets and levels, as Markus Bockmuehl has demonstrated in his detailed literary and theological analysis of 1QS and the fragments from Cave 4. Future salvation involves the purification of the Land as well as everlasting life (and everlasting damnation) described through a variety of metaphors in 1QS 3–4. This text – principally as it is represented in 1QS – stands out in several respects among the other texts discussed in this volume. Divine election is combined with a strong sense of predestination. Election and predestination stand in tension with human responsibility. Human actions are, to a considerable degree, functions of two opposed spirits and their cohorts (1QS 3–4). Probably more than any Jewish text of which I am aware except the other Qumran sectarian texts, the community that created this text (and for whom it was created) is repeatedly visible in the text. Moreover, that community stands apart from (the rest of) Israel, functioning as a remnant and as the chosen (depending on the literary level under consideration, and/or one’s reconstruction of the levels of the text’s development). Again, depending



Salvation among the Jews

309

on this reconstruction, the community offers hope for the salvation of (some of) the rest of Israel, or it sees itself (increasingly) as the sole community of the saved. This exclusive sectarianism is echoed in other Qumran texts such as the Hodayot (see below) and the Pesharim. It is worth comparing this Qumranic exclusivity with Pauline theology, particularly as it is expressed in the Epistle to the Romans (especially chapters 3, 9–11). For Paul the church as it is constituted by faith in Christ is the community of those to be saved. Outside of the church there is no salvation. The church is the remnant, and/but Paul is optimistic that ‘all of Israel’ will be saved. For the present the unbelief of most of Israel provides the opportunity for the gentiles to be brought into the community of the saved. Paul is inclusive in that he believes that the eschatological community of the saved will embrace a good deal of gentile humanity and most of Israel. He is exclusive in the sense that only through faith in Christ is one justified before God.14 This stands in contrast to the Community Rule (and other Qumran documents), where the gentiles are off the radar screen (except as enemies), and where the practice of correct halakah is the criterion for salvation. 2.15. The Targumim Different from all the texts previously discussed, the Targumim are not the unified product of a single author or redactor. Taken as a whole, they are the gathering of biblical interpretation created and reshaped by the rabbis over the course of many centuries in the Land of Israel and the Babylonian dispersion. Moreover, although they contain some interpretive traditions with roots in the Hellenistic and early Roman periods, as individually constituted they reflect circumstances considerably – and in some cases very much – later than even the post-70 ce texts treated above. Bruce Chilton’s essay sweeps over this landscape and then focuses on the Prophetic Targumim. He highlights the Jewish hopes of salvation as they are expressed in the individual components of the Targumim and with a view toward the respective times of their origin and developing redaction. To generalize much more than I should, but more or less as he summarizes, the central foci in the Tannaitic layer of the Targumim are: observance of the Torah; the coming of the Messiah and the concrete realization of the kingdom of God; the return of the dispersion; the restoration of worship in the Jerusalem Temple; and the destruction of Rome, Israel’s enemy and conqueror. In the later, Amoraic layer the eschatological expectations are attenuated, prayer typically replaces sacrifice, and exile has become an ongoing fact of life. Reading these conclusions in light of aspects of the soteriology of some of the other texts (as they are) treated in this volume, I see a number of 14. Nickelsburg, ‘Religious Exclusivism: A World View Governing Some Texts Found at Qumran’, in Das Ende der Tage und die Gegenwart des Heils (Fs. Heinz-Wolfgang Kuhn; eds M. Becker and W. Fenske; AGAJU 44; Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 56–67.

310

This World and the World to Come

significant points of similarity and difference. Here are a few. In a majority of the texts treated above, a Davidic Messiah plays no role in the salvation of Israel. In the Targumim, where this concern is in focus, the Messiah plays a major role. Not surprisingly, the Messiah–Rome–Temple–Return–New age axis appears in the latest, post-70 texts, 4 Ezra (especially) and 2 Baruch. Also noteworthy is the earlier Pss. Sol. 17, which was composed after the Roman conquest of Jerusalem in 63 bce and which anticipates the coming of the Davidic king, who will drive out the Romans, gather the dispersed, and purify Jerusalem. Finally, despite frequent scholarly distinctions between the rabbinic focus on the observance of the Torah (so-called legalism) and the eschatology and apocalypticism of early Jewish texts,15 a concern about Torah observance and various forms of future deliverance sit together rather well in the centuries-long development of the Targumim. Indeed, to this day the restoration of Israel and the coming of the Messiah are part of the synagogue liturgies. 2.16. The rabbinic corpus As Jacob Neusner lays it out, the rabbinic system of soteriology/eschatology is founded on a belief in the full and final justice of God. On the private, individual level the resurrection will restore the lives of (almost) ‘all Israel’. On the public, communal side, when Israel has repented, the Messiah will gather the exiles and restore Israel to the Land of Israel, where the people will live the eternal life in the paradisiacal bliss that was lost in Eden. Humanity will return to its origins; Endzeit will recapitulate Urzeit. The great judgement, the final enactment of God’s justice, is the threshold between the world as experienced now and the world or age to come. The components of this soteriology/eschatology reiterate major themes in many of the Jewish texts between 1 Enoch and the Mishnah. Of special importance in the late apocalypses (4 Ezra and 2 Baruch) are the combined motifs of Messiah–resurrection–the judgement–the age to come–the centrality of Zion (the old and the new), and the Messiah’s gathering of the exiles (4 Ezra) and the return to Eden (2 Baruch). Moreover, the figures of Ezra and Baruch as religious leaders foreshadow the roles of the rabbis to come. Here see, especially, the issues raised and dealt with in 2 Bar. 77.13-16. The rabbinic literature is necessarily and appropriately studied in light of its origins in the Scriptures of the rabbis, which they interpreted. The studies by Chilton and Neusner suggest that a systematic comparison between the rabbinic corpus and the literature between 1 Enoch and the Mishnah might prove to be a fruitful venture into the history of the religion of Israel.

15. For an early example, see R. H. Charles, The Book of Enoch (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1912), p. vi. See also the synthetic and critical study by Charlotte Klein, Anti-Judaism in Christian Theology (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978), pp. 42–56.



Salvation among the Jews

311

3. Paraleipomena: ‘Things Left Out’ The chapters of this book treat a wide range of Judaic texts composed over the course of almost 800 years and expressing a rich variety of ideas and portrayals of ‘salvation’. This chronological stretch and this variety in conception and expression notwithstanding, it is possible to broaden the literary and conceptual landscape even further. Here, briefly, are a few examples that provide some additional hues to our picture. 3.1. Tobit This work from the late third/early second century bce portrays the fortunes and misfortunes of a pious Israelite living in the eastern dispersion, where he suffers because of his piety. This is hardly fair under the rules of the covenant. His suffering includes persecution, the loss of his wealth (which was a sign of his piety), blindness, and then the nagging of his wife who must earn the family’s daily bread. Thanks to the good offices of Raphael the archangel and his magical apparatus, Tobit’s blindness is cured, his wealth is restored, his son finds an appropriate wife (whom Raphael also cures from the murderous activity of a libidinous demon), and things settle down in the household. The future does not promise a resurrection for Tobit (see 3.6), who dies at a ripe old age, but the book anticipates a return from the exile and a glorious restoration of Jerusalem, as well as the hope that repentant gentiles will be brought into the company of the saved. 3.2. First Enoch A collection of apocalyptic texts composed between c. 300 bce and the decades that bracket the turn of the era, this extensive corpus (roughly the size of the book of Isaiah) is in itself a potpourri of soteriological motifs that have appeared and reappeared in the chapters of this volume and a few whose nuances that have not.16 It is a work that offers consolation for the persecuted and oppressed. God’s judgement is central in all but one of its five major parts. God will vindicate the righteous and punish their enemies. These enemies are, variously, the gentiles, unseen demonic forces (in some cases fathered by rebellious angels from the time of Noah) and the rich and powerful compatriots of the righteous. The agents of divine salvation are, variously: the four high angels (including Raphael); a large complement of the heavenly host; a transcendent Messiah who embodies the characteristics of the Davidic king, Daniel’s one like a son of man, Second Isaiah’s Servant of the Lord, and heavenly Wisdom; the warrior Judas Maccabeus; and, indeed, Enoch himself, the revealer of the heavenly knowledge contained in the 16. On this text, see Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch 1.

312

This World and the World to Come

components of this collection. For those who have died there is the promise of resurrection, whether of the body or of the soul. More often than not, the life to come will be lived on a restored earth beneath a renewed heaven (see 25.4-6; 45.4-6; 51.4-5); in one section the souls or spirits of the resurrected death will ascend to heaven into the presence of the angels (104.1-4). Each of the four aforementioned sections anticipates salvation for the gentiles who, one way or another, turn to the worship of the one God. What is striking about this collection is less its individual notions of salvation – many of them paralleled elsewhere in the literature discussed above – than the fact that they are all to be found in one collection that derives from a common tradition, whose redactor(s) appear to have had no problem bringing them together in spite of the tensions that we moderns might perceive in their variety. In this sense First Enoch is a kind of microcosm of the larger Jewish corpus. 3.3. First, Second, and Fourth Maccabees First Maccabees recounts events from the persecution of the Jews by Antiochus Epiphanes (167–164 bce) until the death of Simon the Hasmonean (134 bce). According to this author, the terrible disaster that fell on the Jews in 167 was the result of the sins of a relatively small number of Hellenizers. Israel is rescued from this suffering through the efforts of Mattathias the patriarch of the Hasmonean family, and, especially, the military victories of his sons, Judas, Jonathan, and Simon. Concerning Judas we are told that ‘deliverance/salvation (Gk. so¯te¯ria) prospered by his hand’ (3.6). Moreover, the Hasmoneans are the family ‘through whose hand so¯te¯ria was given to Israel’ (5.62). Earlier in the text Judas, greatly outnumbered by a Syrian army, addresses his prayer to ‘the saviour (so¯te¯r) of Israel’ (4.30). Thus, in this work, God the ‘Saviour’ rescues (‘saves’) God’s people from persecution and death through God’s appointed human warrior-agent. Second Maccabees begins with an account of events prior to those described in First Maccabees, employing the Deuteronomic historical scheme. The persecution is divine punishment for the sin of Hellenization (apostatizing from the covenant; see 3.1–6.17). Repentance occurs in the innocent deaths of the obedient martyrs (6.18–7.42). This catalyzes the victories of Judas (8.1-7). As to the innocents who died precisely because of their obedience to the Torah in spite of intense pressure to capitulate, they are promised vindication in the form of resurrection, which is described in considerable detail as a resurrection (construed as re-creation) of their tortured bodies. This author recounts this-worldly rescue from persecution and posits deliverance from death in a bodily form that suggests a renewed life on earth. Fourth Maccabees is a rewriting of narrative material in 2 Macc. 6–7. Here the future vindication of the martyrs involves not resurrection of the body, but their souls’ immortal existence in heaven. Striking is the fact that



Salvation among the Jews

313

the one text draws on the other but posits alternative forms of salvation (bodily resurrection and immortality of the soul). 3.4. The Qumran Hodayot To the discussions of the Qumran texts above, one may add a few comments on two compositions in the Hymn Scroll (11.19-36; 19.3-14).17 The author(s) of these thanksgiving hymns employ(s) the traditional language of resurrection and ascension to describe the sectarian’s present existence. When one enters the community, one is rescued from the realm of death and damnation and is brought into the sphere of life and the presence of the angels. What one expected in the future is realized now. One still lives a troubled life (lines 24-36) – as is also the case according to 1QS 3–4 – but in a significant sense one tastes the life of the world to come. Thus deliverance in the present is much more than the temporary rescue described in Judith and First and Third Maccabees; conversely future deliverance begins to take place here and now. 4. Synthesis As our essays have shown, in the literature under consideration there is no single Jewish soteriology. ‘Salvation’ shows its face in many different ways, sometimes in the same text. The nation or a part of it is rescued from imminent danger (Judith, 3 Maccabees, Pseudo-Philo), from persecution or oppression (1 Enoch; Daniel 7–12, 1, 2, 4 Maccabees; Psalms of Solomon). The exiles of Israel will be brought back to their homeland (Tobit; Psalms of Solomon 11, 17; 4 Ezra; the Targumim and rabbinic texts). One is healed from illness (Tobit), or rescued from death (Dan. 3, 6). One is restored after death has taken place (1 and 2 Enoch, Daniel, 2 and 4 Maccabees, Psalms of Solomon, Wisdom 1–6, 4 Ezra, 2 Baruch, Pseudo-Philo, the Targumim and rabbinic texts), or one even participates already in eternal life (Hodayot). One’s soul is forever removed from the burden of one’s bodily existence (Philo of Alexandria; Wisdom of Solomon). In a positive response to God’s discipline, one atones for sin through acts of self-abasement (Pss. Sol. 3) and righteous deeds (Tob. 4.10). The Qumran Community in one form or another atones for the Land and functions in place of the Temple (1QS). More than is generally discussed, revelation is a mode of salvation.18 It overcomes ignorance, protects one from the danger of idolatry, or brings one into the company of the chosen (Wisdom of Solomon, 1 and 2 Enoch, 17. Idem, Resurrection, pp. 188–93. 18. On this motif in Judaism and early Christianity, see idem, Ancient Judaism and Christian Origins: Diversity, Continuity, and Transformation (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003), pp. 73–5, 83–5.

314

This World and the World to Come

various Qumran texts). One is protected from the proddings of the angel of darkness (1QS 3–4). Where the issue is restoration from or in spite of death, one may posit an immediate ascent of the soul to heaven (Wisdom of Solomon, Philo), the future resurrection of the soul or spirit to heaven (1 Enoch 104); a resurrection of the body to a new life on earth (1 Enoch 22–25; perhaps Dan. 12.2; and 2 Macc. 7, where resurrection as re-creation is appropriate recompense for the destruction of a tortured body); a resurrection of the body and then the ascent of the transformed body to heaven (2 Bar. 49–51). A future life on a renewed earth is imagined in the apocalyptic literature more often than is supposed (see 1 Enoch 37–71). The pesher on Psalm 37 also expects restoration on this earth. The scope of salvation varies in the texts: more or less all of Israel; a small group who construe themselves as the chosen (much of 1 Enoch); an even smaller group (Qumran); the repentant gentiles (Tobit and 1 Enoch 10.2122; 50.2-3; 90.37-38; 100.6). The agents of salvation differ from text to text or within texts: one or several of the high angels (1 Enoch, Tobit, Daniel, the Apocalypse of Abraham); the Angel of Light (1QS 3–4); the Davidic Messiah (Pss. Sol. 17; some Qumran texts; 4 Ezra; 2 Baruch; the Targumim and other rabbinic texts); a transcendent messianic figure (Parables of Enoch; 4 Ezra; 2 Baruch); heavenly Wisdom and/or the logos (Wisdom of Solomon); various teacher figures (the maskilim in Daniel 11–12; the maskil at Qumran and the Teacher of Righteousness); and Enoch the revealer par excellence (1 Enoch). Fundamental to Jewish ideas about salvation was the nation’s understanding of itself as the chosen people of a just God. Often that justice was obscured by their experience in a dangerous world. Cognitive dissonance was frequently a fact of life, both for the nation and for individuals. Thus when bad things happened to (more or less) good people, they were in need of salvation. If God was just, they had to be ‘saved’ from their circumstances. Or when bad things happened to bad people, they had to be saved from the consequences of their deeds. Hence we have the plethora of texts in which the various notions of salvation play a dominant role. Whether ‘salvation’ is always an appropriate umbrella term for the shalom that constitutes the covenantal blessings is a question worth asking. If it follows from one’s rescue from danger or the atonement for one’s sins, then ‘yes’. If a sense of being saved from something is not in focus (2 Enoch; and various wisdom texts, notably parts of Sirach), then perhaps in those cases one should find another term. The propriety of our terminology should be governed by the specifics of the text. This relates also to the vocabulary that the ancients employed when they narrated the events and circumstances that cried out for divine intervention or that celebrated a world that they thought was not in need of such salvation.

Bibliography Abegg Jr, Martin G., ‘4QMMT C 27, 31 and “Works Righteousness”’, DSD 6.2 (1999), pp. 139–47. ——, ‘4QMMT, Paul and the “Works of the Law”’, in The Bible at Qumran: Text, Shape, and Interpretation (eds Peter W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), pp. 203–16. ——, ‘Paul and James on the Law in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls’, in Christian Beginnings and the Dead Sea Scrolls (eds J. J. Collins and C. A. Evans; Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2006), pp. 63–74. Aland, K., Repertorium der griechischen christlichen Papyri. I. Biblische Papyri: Altes Testament, Neues Testament, Varia, Apokryphen (PTS, 18; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 1976). Alexander, Philip S., ‘The Redaction History of Serekh Ha-Yah.ad: A Proposal’, RevQ 17 (1996), pp. 437–56. Alexander, Philip S., and Geza Vermes (eds), Qumran Cave 4, Vol. 19: Serekh Ha-Yah.ad and Two Related Texts (DJD, 26; Oxford: Clarendon, 1998). Alexander, Philip, and Loveday Alexander, ‘The Image of the Oriental Monarch in the Third Book of Maccabees’, in Jewish Perspectives on Hellenistic Rulers (eds Tessa Rajak, et al.; Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2007), pp. 92–109. Allegro, John M., with Arnold A. Anderson, Qumran Cave 4.I (4Q158-4Q186) (DJD, 5; Oxford: Clarendon, 1968). Alonso-Schökel, L., ‘Narrative Structures in the Book of Judith’, in Protocol Series of the Colloquies of the Centre for Hermeneutical Studies in Hellenistic and Modern Culture 11 (Berkeley: Graduate Theol. Union and University of California, 1975), pp. 1–20. Andersen, Francis I., ‘2 (Slavonic Apocalypse of) Enoch’, in The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha Volume 1: Apocalyptic Literature and Testaments. (ed. J. H. Charlesworth; 2 vols; New York: Doubleday, 1983–85), pp. 91–221. Atkinson, Kenneth, I Cried to the Lord: A Study of the Psalms of Solomon’s Historical Background and Social Setting (JSJSup, 84; Leiden: Brill, 2004). ——, An Intertextual Study of the Psalms of Solomon: Pseudepigrapha (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen Press, 2001). ——, ‘On the Herodian Origin of Militant Davidic Messianism at Qumran: New Light from Psalm of Solomon 17’, JBL 118 (1999), pp. 135–60. ——, ‘Psalms of Salomon’, in A New English Translation of the Septuagint (eds Albert Pietersma and Benjamin G. Wright; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), pp. 263–76. ——, ‘The Salome No One Knows: Long-time Ruler of a Prosperous and Peaceful Judea Mentioned in Dead Sea Scrolls’, BAR 34 (2008), pp. 60–65, 72. ——, ‘Theodicy in the Psalms of Solomon’, in Theodicy in the World of the Bible (eds Antii Laato and Johannes C. de Moor; Leiden: Brill, 2003), pp. 569–72. ——, ‘Toward a Redating of the Psalms of Solomon: Implications for Understanding the Sitz im Leben of an Unknown Jewish Sect’, JSP 17 (1998), pp. 95–112. Baars, W., The Old Testament in Syriac According to the Peshitta Version (6 vols; Leiden: Brill, 1972). Bachmann, M., ‘4QMMT und Galaterbrief, hrwth h#(m and ERGA NOMOU’, ZNW 89 (1998), pp. 91–113. Baillet, M., J. T. Milik, and R. de Vaux, O. P. (eds), Les ‘petites grottes’ de Qumrân: exploration de la falaise, les grottes 2Q, 3Q, 5Q, 6Q, 7Q, à 10Q, le rouleau de cuivre (DJD, 3. Oxford:

316

Bibliography

Clarendon Press, 1962). Barclay, J. M. G., Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora: From Alexander to Trajan (323 BCE – 117 CE) (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996). Barclay, John M. G., and Simon J. Gathercole (eds), Divine and Human Agency in Paul and His Cultural Environment (LNTS, 335. London: T&T Clark, 2006). Barthélemy, D., and J. T. Milik (eds), Qumran Cave I (DJD, 1. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1955). Bartolomé, Juan José, ‘“Señor, amigo de la vida …” (Sb 11,26). El amor, paciente y pedagógico, del Dios creador’, Salesianum 50 (2008), pp. 29–54. Bauckham, Richard, ‘Apocalypses’, in Justification and Variegated Nomism. Volume I. The Complexities of Second Temple Judaism (eds D. A. Carson, P. T. O’Brien, and M. A. Seifrid; WUNT, 2.140; 2 vols; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001), pp. 135–87. ——, ‘The Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum of Pseudo-Philo and the Gospels as “Midrash”’, in Gospel Perspectives III: Studies in Midrash and Historiography (eds R. T. France and David Wenham; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1983), pp. 33–76. Baumgarten, A. I., ‘The Zadokite Priests at Qumran: A Reconsideration’, DSD 4 (1997), pp. 137–56. Baumgarten, Joseph M., The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations (eds J. H. Charlesworth and Henry W. M. Reitz; 2 vols; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr/Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1995). ——, ‘The Heavenly Tribunal and the Personification of Sedeq in Jewish Apocalyptic’, ANRW II 19.1 (1979), pp. 219–32. ——, ‘Messianic Forgiveness of Sins in CD 14.19 (4Q266 i.12-13)’, in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Technological Innovations, New Texts, and Reformulated Issues (eds D. W. Parry and E. Ulrich; STDJ, 30; Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 535–44. ——, Studies in Qumran Law (SJLA, 24; Leiden: Brill, 1977). ——, ‘Yom Kippur in the Qumran Scrolls and Second Temple Sources’, DSD 6 (1990), pp. 184–91. Becker, Jürgen, Das Heil Gottes: Heils-und Sündenbegriffe in den Qumrantexten und im Neuen Testament (SUNT, 3; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1964). Bedard, Stephen, ‘Hellenistic Influence on the Idea of Resurrection in Jewish Apocalyptic Literature’, JGRCJ 5 (2008), pp. 174–89. Begg, Christopher T., ‘Rereadings of the “Animal Rite” of Genesis 15 in Early Jewish Narratives’, CBQ 50 (1988), pp. 36–46. Begrich, Joachim, ‘Der Text der Psalmen Salomos’, ZNW 38 (1939), pp. 131–64. Ben-Dov, Jonathan, ‘Tradition and Innovation in the Calendar of Jubilees’, in Enoch and the Mosaic Torah: The Evidence of Jubilees (eds G. Boccaccini and G. Ibba; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), pp. 288–93. Bernstein, M., ‘Pentateuchal Interpretation at Qumran’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls after Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (eds P. W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; 2 vols; Leiden: Brill, 1998), pp. 1.128–59. Berthelot, Katell, L’‘humanité de l’autre homme’ dans la pensée jiuve ancienne (JSJSup, 87; Leiden: Brill, 2004). ——, ‘La notion de rg dans le textes de Qumrân’, RevQ 19 (1999), pp. 171–216. Berrin, Shani, ‘Qumran Pesharim’, in Biblical Interpretation at Qumran (ed. M. Henze; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), pp. 110–33. Betz, Otto, ‘Jesus and the Temple Scroll’, in Jesus and the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. J. H. Charlesworth; ABRL; New York: Doubleday, 1992), pp. 75–103. ——, ‘Rechtfertigung in Qumran’, in Rechtfertigung: Festschrift für Ernst Käsemann zum 70. Geburtstag (eds J. Friedrich, W. Pöhlmann and P. Stuhlmacher; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1976), pp. 17–36. Beyerle, S., ‘The Book of Daniel and Its Social Setting’, in The Book of Daniel: Composition and Reception (eds J. J. Collins and P. W. Flint; VTSup, 83; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2001), pp. 205–28. Bidawid, R. J. (ed.), ‘4 Esdras’, in The Old Testament in Syriac according to the Peshitta Version, Part 4.3 (Leiden: Brill, 1973).



Bibliography

317

Bird, Michael F., Crossing Over Sea and Land: Jewish Missionary Activity in the Second Temple Period (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2010). Black, Matthew, The Dead Sea Scrolls and Christian Doctrine. The Ethel M. Wood Lecture delivered at the University of London on 8 February 1966 (London: Athlone Press, 1966). Blenkinsopp, Joseph, ‘Prophecy and Priesthood in Josephus’, JJS 25 (1974), pp. 239–62. Blessing, Kamila, ‘Desolate Jerusalem and Barren Matriarch: Two Distinct Figures in the Pseudepigrapha’, JSP 18 (1998), pp. 47–69. Blischke, Mareike Verena, Die Eschatologie in der Sapientia Salomonis (FAT, 2.26; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007). Boccaccini, G., ‘The Covenantal Theology of the Apocalyptic Book of Daniel’, in Enoch and Qumran Origins: New Light on a Forgotten Connection (ed. G. Boccaccini; Grand Rapids/ Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2005), pp. 39–44. Bockmuehl, Markus, ‘1QS and Salvation at Qumran’, in Justification and Variegated Nomism: Volume 1: The Complexities of Second Temple Judaism (eds D. A. Carson, P. T. O’Brien and M. A. Seifrid; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), pp. 381–414. ——, ‘“Let the Dead Bury their Dead” (Matt 8:22/Luke 9:60): Jesus and the Halakah’, JTS 49 (1998), pp. 553–81. ——, ‘Redaction and Ideology in the Community Rule (1QS/4QS)’, RevQ 18 (1998), pp. 541– 60. ——, Revelation and Mystery in Ancient Judaism and Pauline Christianity (WUNT, 2.36; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1990). Repr. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997. Bogaert, P. M., Apocalypse de Baruch, introduction, tradition du Syriaque et commentaire (SC, 144, 145; Paris: Cerf, 1969). ——, Pseudo-Philon: Les Antiquites Bibliques (eds Daniel Harrington, et al.; SC, 230; Paris: Cerf, 1976). Böttrich, C., Das slavische Henochbuch (JSHRZ, V 7; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlaghaus, 1996). ——, ‘The Melchizedek Story of 2 (Slavonic) Enoch: A Reaction to Andrei Orlov’, JSJ 32 (2001), pp. 445–70. ——, Weltweisheit, Menschheitsethik, Urkult (WUNT, 2.50; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992). Bowley, James E., ‘The Compositions of Abraham’, in Tracing the Threads: Studies in the Vitality of Jewish Pseudepigrapha (ed. John C. Reeves; SBLEJL, 6; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994), pp. 215–38. Box, G. H., The Apocalypse of Ezra (London: SPCK, 1917). ——, The Ezra-Apocalypse (London: Pitman & Sons, 1912). Box, G. H., and J. I. Landsman, The Apocalypse of Abraham: Edited, with a Translation from the Slavonic Text and Notes (TED, 1.10; London: Macmillan, 1918). Braun, Herbert, ‘Vom Erbarmen Gottes über den Gerechten. Zur Theologie der Psalmen Salomos’, ZNW 43 (1950/51), pp. 1–54. Brock, Sebastian P., ‘Abraham and the Ravens: A Syriac Counterpart to Jubilees 11-12 and its Implications’, JJS 9 (1978), pp. 135–52. ——, ‘The Psalms of Solomon’, in AOT (ed. H. F. D. Sparks; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984), pp. 649–82. Brooke, George J., ‘The Kittim in the Qumran Pesharim’, in Images of Empire (ed. L. Alexander; JSOTSup, 122; Sheffield: JOST Press, 1993), pp. 135–59. ——, ‘Qumran Pesher: Toward the Redefinition of a Genre’, RevQ 10 (1979–81), pp. 483– 503. Brownlee, William H., ‘Anthropology and Soteriology in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the New Testament’, in The Use of the Old Testament in the New and Other Essays (Fs. William Franklin Stinespring; ed. J. M. Efird; Durham: Duke University, 1972), pp. 210–41. ——, The Midrash Pesher of Habakkuk (SBLMS, 24; Missoula: Scholars Press, 1979). Büchler, Adolf, Types of Jewish-Palestinian Piety from 70 B.C.E. to 70 C.E. The Ancient Pious Men (London: Jews’ College Publications, 1922). Burkes, Shannon, God, Self, and Death: The Shape of Religious Transformation in the Second Temple Period (JSJSup, 79; Leiden: Brill, 2003).

318

Bibliography

——, ‘“Life” Redefined: Wisdom and Law in Fourth Ezra and Second Baruch’, CBQ 63 (2001), pp. 55–71. Burrows, Millar, with the assistance of John C. Trever and William H. Brownlee, The Dead Sea Scrolls of St. Mark’s Monastery, Volume 1, The Isaiah Manuscript and Habakkuk Commentary (New Haven: American Schools of Oriental Research, 1950). Callaway, P. R., ‘A Second Look at Ostracon No. 1 from Khirbet Qumran’, QC 7 (1997), pp. 147–70. Carmignac, J., ‘Conjecture sur la première ligne de la Règle de la Communauté’, RevQ (1959), pp. 85–9. ——, ‘Le Document de Qumrân sur Melkisédek’, RevQ 7 (1969–71), pp. 342–78. ——, Les Textes de Qumran, Volume 2 (eds J. Carmignac, É. Cothenet and H. Lignée; Paris: Letouzey et Ané, 1963). Cathcart, K. J., and R. P. Gordon, The Targum of the Minor Prophets (ArBib, 14; Wilmington: Glazier; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1989). Chamberlain, John V., ‘Toward a Qumran Soteriology’, NovT 3 (1959), pp. 305–13. Charles, R. H., The Apocalypse of Baruch Translated from the Syriac. Edited with Introduction, Notes and Indices (London: A. & C. Black, 1896). ——, The Book of Enoch (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1912). Charles, R. H., and W. R Morfill, The Book of the Secrets of Enoch (Oxford: Clarendon, 1896). Charlesworth, James H. The Pesharim and Qumran History: Chaos or Consensus? (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002). Charlesworth, James H. (ed.), The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations: Pesharim, Other Commentaries, and Related Documents (PTSDSSP, 6b; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2002). ——, The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations. Vol. 1: Rule of the Community and Related Documents. Vol. 2: Damascus Document, War Scroll, and Related Documents (PTSDSSP, 1–2; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck/Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1994–95). ——, Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (2 vols; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1983, 1985). Charlesworth, James H., and Brent A. Strawn, ‘Reflections on the Text of Serek Ha-Yah.ad found in Cave I’, RevQ 17 (1996), pp. 403–35. Cheon, Samuel, ‘Anonymity in the Wisdom of Solomon’, JSP 18 (1998), pp. 111–19. ——, The Exodus Story in the Wisdom of Solomon: A Study in Biblical Interpretation (JSPSup, 23; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997). ——, ‘Three Characters in the Wisdom of Solomon 3–4’, JSP 21 (2001), pp. 105–13. Chilton, Bruce, A Feast of Meanings. Eucharistic Theologies from Jesus through Johannine Circles (NovTSup, 72; Leiden: Brill, 1994). ——, The Glory of Israel: The Theology and Provenience of the Isaiah Targum (JSOTSup, 23; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1982). ——, ‘Isaac and the Second Night: a Consideration’, Bib 61 (1980), pp. 78–88. ——, The Isaiah Targum. Introduction, Translation, Apparatus, and Notes (ArBib, 11; Wilmington: Glazier; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1987). ——, ‘Regnum Dei Deus Est’, SJT 31 (1978), pp. 261–70. ——, Targumic Approaches to the Gospels (Lanham: University Press of America, 1986). ——, ‘Targums’, in Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels (eds J. B. Green, S. McKnight, I. H. Marshall; Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1992), pp. 800–4. ——, ‘Two in One: Renderings of the Book of Isaiah in Targum Jonathan’, in Writing and Reading the Scroll of Isaiah. Studies of an Interpretive Tradition 2 (eds C. C. Broyles and C. A. Evans; VTSup, 70; Leiden: Brill, 1997), pp. 2.547–62. Chilton, Bruce, and Philip R. Davies, ‘The Aqedah: A Revised Tradition History’, CBQ 40 (1978), pp. 514–46. Christiansen, Ellen Juhl, ‘Election as Identity Term in 1 Peter with a View to a Qumran Background’, SEÅ 73 (2008), pp. 39–64. Churgin, Pinkhos, Targum Jonathan to the Prophets (YOSR, XIV; New Haven: Yale University Press, 1927).



Bibliography

319

Clifford, Richard J., ‘Proverbs as a Source for Wisdom of Solomon’, in Treasures of Wisdom: Studies in Ben Sira and the Book of Wisdom Festschrift M. Gilbert (eds Nuria CalduchBenages and Jacques Vermeylen; BETL, 143; Leuven: Peeters, 1999), pp. 255–63. ——, The Wisdom Literature (IBT; Nashville: Abingdon, 1998). Cohn, L., P. Wendland, and S. Reiter (eds), Philonis Alexandrini opera quae supersunt (6 vols; Berlin: George Reimer, 1896–1915; repr. Berlin: De Gruyter, 1962). Cohn-Sherbok, Dan, ‘Salvation in Jewish Thought’, in The Biblical World (ed. John Barton; 2 vols; London: Routledge, 2002), pp. 2.287–316. Collins, J. J., ‘242. 4QPrayer of Nabonidus ar’, J. J. Collins and P. W. Flint, ‘243-245. 4QpseudoDaniela-c ar’, and É. Puech, ‘4QApocryphe de Daniel ar’, Qumran Cave.4XVII: Parabiblical Texts, Part 3 (ed. J. C. VanderKam; DJD, 22; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996). ——, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to the Jewish Apocalyptic Literature (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2nd edn, 1998). ——, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to the Jewish Matrix of Christianity (New York: Crossroad, 1992). ——, Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls (London/New York: Routledge, 1997). ——, Between Athens and Jerusalem: Jewish Identity in Hellenistic Diaspora (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2nd edn, 1999). ——, Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010). ——, Daniel. A Commentary on the Book of Daniel (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993). ——, ‘Eschatology’, in The Eerdmans Dictionary of Early Judaism (eds J. J. Collins and D. C. Harlow; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), pp. 594–7. ——, ‘Natural Theology and Biblical Tradition: The Case of Hellenistic Judaism’, CBQ 60 (1998), pp. 1–15. ——, ‘Prophecy, Apocalypse and Eschatology: Reflections on the Proposals of Lester Grabbe’, in Knowing the End from the Beginning: The Prophetic, the Apocalyptic and Their Relationships (eds L. L. Grabbe and R. D. Haak; JSPSup, 46; London/New York, 2003), pp. 44–52. ——, ‘The Reinterpretation of Apocalyptic Traditions in the Wisdom of Solomon’, in The Book of Wisdom in Modern Research (eds H. Passaro and G. Bellia; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2005), pp. 143–57. ——, ‘Response: The Apocalyptic Worldview of Daniel’, in Enoch and Qumran Origins: New Light on a Forgotten Connection (ed. G. Boccaccini; Grand Rapids/Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2005), pp. 59–66. ——, The Scepter and the Star: The Messiahs of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Ancient Literature (ABRL; New York: Doubleday, 1995). Colson, F. H., G. H. Whitaker, and R. Marcus (trans.), Philo (12 vols; LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1929–62). Cook, Joan E., ‘Creation in 4 Ezra: The Biblical Theme in Support of Theodicy’, in Creation in the Biblical Traditions (eds R. J. Clifford and J. J. Collins; CBQMS, 24. Washington, D.C.; Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1992), pp. 129–39. Cousland, J. R. C., ‘Dionysus Theomachos?: Echoes of the Bacchae in 3 Maccabees’, Bib 82 (2002), pp. 539–48. ——, ‘Reversal, Recidivism and Reward in 3 Maccabees: Structure and Purpose’, JSJ 34 (2003), pp. 39–51. Cox, Ronald, By the Same Word: Creation and Salvation in Hellenistic Judaism and Early Christianity (BZNW, 145; Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 2007). Crawford, Cory D., ‘On the Exegetical Function of the Abraham/Ravens Tradition in Jubilees 11’, HTR 97/1 (2004), pp. 91–7. Crawford, S. White, Rewriting Scripture in Second Temple Times (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008). ——, The Temple Scroll and Related Texts (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000). Cross, F. M., ‘The Development of the Jewish Scripts’, in The Bible and the Ancient Near East (ed. G. E. Wright; London: Routledge, 1961), pp. 132–202.

320

Bibliography

——, ‘The Palaeographical Dates of the Manuscripts’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations. Vol. 1. Rule of the Community and Related Documents (eds J. H. Charlesworth, et al.; PTSDSSP, 1; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck/ Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1994), p. 57. ——, ‘Ostraca from Khirbet Qumran’, IEJ 47 (1997), pp. 17–28. Cross, F. M., and Esther Eshel, ‘l. Khirbet Qumran Ostracon (Plate xxxiii)’, in Qumran Cave 4: XXVI (eds S. J. Pfann and P. S. Alexander; DJD, 36; Oxford: Clarendon, 2000), pp. 497–507. Croy, N. Clayton, 3 Maccabees (Septuagint Commentary Series, 2; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2006). Cryer, F. H., ‘The Qumran Conveyance: A Reply to F. M. Cross and E. Eshel’, SJOT 11 (1997), pp. 232–40. Davenport, Gene L., ‘The “Anointed of the Lord in Psalms of Solomon 17”’, in Ideal Figures in Ancient Judaism: Profiles and Paradigms (eds John J. Collins and George W. E. Nickelsburg; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1980), pp. 67–92. Davies, Philip R., Behind the Essenes: History and Ideology in the Dead Sea Scrolls (BJS, 94; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987). ——, ‘Didactic Stories’, in Justification and Variegated Nomism: Volume 1 – The Complexities of Second Temple Judaism (eds D. A. Carson, P. T. O’Brien and M. A. Seifrid; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), pp. 99–134. Davila, James R., ‘(How) Can We Tell if a Greek Apocryphon or Pseudepigraphon has been Translated from Hebrew or Aramaic?’, JSP 15.1 (2005), pp. 3–61. ——, The Provenance of the Pseudepigrapha: Jewish, Christian or Other (JSJSup, 105; Leiden: Brill, 2005). DeConick, April D., Voices of the Mystics: Early Christian Discourse in the Gospels of John and Thomas and Other Ancient Christian Literature (London: T&T Clark, 2004). Delcor, Mathias, ‘Psaumes de Salomon’, in DBSup (eds L. Pirot and A. Robert; Paris: Letouzey & Ané, 1979), pp. 214–45. Denis, A.-M., Concordance grecque des pseudépigraphes d’Ancien Testament. Concordance, corpus des textes, indices (Louvain: Peeters, 1987). ——, Introduction aux pseudépigraphes grecs d’Ancien Testament (SVTP, 1. Leiden: Brill, 1970). deSilva, David A., Introducing the Apocrypha: Message, Context, and Significance (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2002). ——, ‘Judith the Heroine? Lies, Seduction, and Murder in Cultural Perspective’, BTB 36 (2006), pp. 55–61. Di Lella, Alexander A., ‘Conservative and Progressive Theology: Sirach and Wisdom’, CBQ 28 (1966), pp. 139–54. ——, ‘The Textual History of Septuagint-Daniel and Theodotion-Daniel’, The Book of Daniel: Composition and Reception (eds J. J. Collins and P. W. Flint; VTSup, 83; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2001). Dietzfelbinger, Christian, Pseudo-Philo: Antiquitates Biblicae (JSHRZ, 2.2. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus/Gerd Mohn, 1975). Dillon, John, Middle Platonists: 80 B.C. to A.D. 220 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, rev. edn, 1996). Dimant, Devorah, ‘4QFlorilegium and the Idea of the Community as Temple’, in Hellenica et Judaica (Fs. Valentin Nikiprowetzky; eds A. Caquot, M. Hadas-Lebel and J. Riaud; Leuven/ Paris: Peeters, 1986), pp. 165–89. ——, ‘Qumran Sectarian Literature’, in Jewish Writings of the Second Temple Period (ed. M. E. Stone; CRINT, 2; Assen Van Gorcum/Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984), pp. 483–550. ——, ‘Two “Scientific” Fictions: The So-called Book of Noah and the Alleged Quotation of Jubilees in CD 16:3-4’, in Studies in the Hebrew Bible, Qumran, and the Septuagint Presented to Eugene Ulrich (eds P. Flint, E. Tov and J. VanderKam; VTSup, 101; Leiden: Brill, 2006), pp. 242–48. DiTommaso, L., ‘4QPseudo-Daniela-b (4Q243-4Q244) and the Book of Daniel’, DSD 12 (2005), pp. 101–33.



Bibliography

321

——, ‘The Apocalyptic Other’, in The Other in Second Temple Judaism: Essays in Honor of John J. Collins (eds D. C. Harlow, et al.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011), pp. 211–46 (221). ——, ‘The Development of Apocalyptic Historiography in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls at 60 (eds J. Duhaime, P. W. Flint and K. Baek; SBLEJL, forthcoming). ——, ‘History and Apocalyptic Eschatology: A Reply to J.Y. Jindo’, VT 56 (2006), pp. 413– 18. Dodson, Joseph R., The ‘Powers’ of Personification: Rhetorical Purpose in the Book of Wisdom and the Letter to the Romans (BZNW, 161. Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2008). Donaldson, Terence L., Judaism and the Gentiles: Jewish Patterns of Universalism (to 135 CE) (Waco: Baylor University Press, 2007). Dray, Carol A., Translation and Interpretation in the Targum to the Book of Kings (SAIS, 5; Leiden: Brill, 2006). Dunn, J. D. G., ‘4QMMT and Galatians’, NTS 43 (1997), pp. 147–53. Dupont-Sommer, A., The Essene Writings from Qumran (trans. G. Vermes; Cleveland: Meridian, 1962). ——, ‘Le Commentaire d’Habacuc découvert près de la Mer Morte: Traduction and Notes’, RHR 137 (1950), pp. 129–71. ——, Les Écrits Esséniens découverts près de la Mer Morte (Bibliothèque Historique; Paris: Payot, 1959). Eckhardt, Benedikt, ‘PsSal 17, die Hasmonäer und der Herodompeius’, JSJ 40 (2009), pp. 465–92. Eisenman, Robert H., James the Just in the Habakkuk Pesher (Leiden: Brill, 1986). Elgvin, Torleif, ‘Jewish Christian Editing of the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha’, in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (eds Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2007), pp. 278–304. Elliger, Karl, Studien zum Habakuk-Kommentar von Toten Meer (BHT, 15; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1953). Elliott, Mark A., The Survivor’s of Israel: A Reconsideration of the Theology of Pre-Christian Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000). Embry, Brad, ‘The Psalms of Solomon and the New Testament: Intertexuality and the Need for a Re-Evaluation’, JSP 13 (2002), pp. 99–136. Enns, Peter, Exodus Retold: Ancient Exegesis of the Departure from Egypt in Wis 10:15-21 and 19:1-19 (HSM, 57; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1997). ——, ‘Expansions of Scripture’, in Justification and Variegated Nomism: Volume 1: The Complexities of Second Temple Judaism (eds D. A. Carson, Mark A. Seifrid and Peter T. O’Brien; 2 vols; WUNT, 2.140. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001), pp. 73–98. Enslin, M. S., and S. Zeitlin, The Book of Judith (Leiden: Brill, 1972). Eshel, Hanan, and Zvi Greenhut, ‘Hiam el-Sagha, A Cemetery of the Qumran Type, Judaean Desert’, RB 100 (1993), pp. 252–9. Esler, P. F., ‘The Social Function of 4 Ezra’, JSNT 53 (1994), pp. 99–123. Evans, Craig A., ‘Covenant in the Qumran Literature’, in The Concept of the Covenant in the Second Temple Period (eds S. E. Porter and J. C. R. Roo; JSPSup, 71; Leiden: Brill, 2003), pp. 55–80. ——, To See and Not Perceive. Isaiah 6.9-10 in Early Jewish and Christian Interpretation (JSOTSup, 64; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1989). Falk, Daniel K., The Parabiblical Texts: Strategies for Extending the Scriptures among the Dead Sea Scrolls (New York: T&T Clark, 2007). Feldman, L., ‘Conversion to Judaism in Classical Antiquity’, in Judaism and Hellenism Reconsidered (ed. L. Feldman; Leiden: Brill, 2006), pp. 205–52. Fewell, D. Nolan, Circle of Sovereignty: Plotting Politics in the Book of Daniel (Nashville: Abingdon, 1991). Fisk, Bruce, Do You Not Remember? Scripture, Story and Exegesis in the Rewritten Bible of Pseudo Philo (JSPSup, 37; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001). Fitzmyer, Joseph, A Guide to the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, rev. edn, 2008).

322

Bibliography

——, ‘Hab 2:3-4 and the New Testament’, in To Advance the Gospel: New Testament Studies (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2nd edn, 1998), pp. 236–46. ——, ‘Paul and the Dead Sea Scrolls’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls After Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (eds P. W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; Leiden: Brill, 1998), pp. 2.599–621. Flint, P. W., ‘“Apocrypha,” Other Previously-Known Writings, and “Pseudepigrapha” in the Dead Sea Scrolls’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls after Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (eds P. W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 2.62–6. ——, ‘The Daniel Tradition at Qumran’, in The Book of Daniel: Composition and Reception (eds J. J. Collins and P. W. Flint; VTSup, 83; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2001), pp. 329–67. Flusser, David, ‘Die Gesetzeswerke in Qumran und bei Paulus’, in Geschichte – Tradition – Reflexion (Fs. Martin Hengel; ed. H. Cancik, H. Lichtenberger and P. Schäfer; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996), pp. 1.395–403. Foerster, W., and G. Fohrer, ‘sw|c& w, etc.’, ThWNT. Band VII (eds G. Kittel and G. Friedrich; Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1964), pp. 966–1023. Franklyn, P. N., ‘The Cultic and Pious Climax of Eschatology in the Psalms of Solomon’, JSJ 18 (1987), pp. 1–17. Freedman, Harry, ‘Akiva’, in EncJud 2 (ed. Cecil Roth; Jerusalem: Keter, 1972), pp. 487–92. Gagnon, Robert A., ‘How did the Rule of the Community Obtain its Final Shape? A Review of Scholarly Research’, JSP 10 (1992), pp. 61–79. Garlington, Don B., The Obedience of Faith: A Pauline Phrase in Historical Context (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1991). Garnet, Paul, ‘Cave 4 MS Parallels to 1QS 5.1-7. Towards a Serekh Text History’, JSP 15 (1997), pp. 67–78. ——, ‘Qumran Light on Pauline Soteriology’, in Pauline Studies: Essays Presented to F.F. Bruce on His 70th Birthday (eds D. A. Hagner and M. J. Harris; Exeter: Paternoster; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1980), pp. 19–32. ——, Salvation and Atonement in the Qumran Scrolls (WUNT, 2.3; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1977). Gärtner, Bertil, The Temple and the Community in Qumran and the New Testament (SNTSMS, 1; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1965). Gathercole, Simon, Where is Boasting? Early Jewish Soteriology and Paul’s Response in Romans 1–5 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002). Gilbert, Maurice, La critique des dieux dans le livre de la Sagesse (Sg 13–15) (AnBib, 53; Rome: Pontificio Istituto Biblico, 1973). ——, ‘The Literary Structure of the Book of Wisdom’, in The Book of Wisdom in Modern Research (eds H. Passaro and G. Bellia; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2005), pp. 19–32. ——, ‘Sagesse 3,7-9; 5,15-23 et l’apocalyptique’, in Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the Biblical Tradition (ed. Florentino García Martínez; BETL, 168; Leuven: Peeters, 2003), pp. 307–22. Ginzberg, Louis, An Unknown Jewish Sect (New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary, 1976). Glessmer, Uwe, ‘Calendars in the Qumran Scrolls’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls after Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (eds P. W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 2.213–78. Golb, Norman, ‘Qadmoniot and the “Yahad” Claim’, QC 7 (1997), pp. 171–3. Goldingay, J., ‘The Stories in Daniel: A Narrative Politics’, JSOT 37 (1987), pp. 99–116. Goodman, David, ‘Do Angels Eat?’ JJS 37 (1986), pp. 160–75. Goodman, M., ‘Jews and Judaism in the Mediterranean Diaspora in the Late-Roman Period: the Limitations of Evidence’, in Judaism in the Roman World: Collected Essays (Leiden: Brill, 2007), pp. 233–59. Grabbe, Lester L., Wisdom of Solomon (GAP; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997). Graf, Fritz, and S. I. Johnston, Ritual Texts for the Afterlife: Orpheus and the Bacchic Gold Tablets (New York: Routledge, 2007). Gray, George B., ‘The Psalms of Solomon’, in APOT (ed. R. H. Charles; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1912), pp. 2.625–52.



Bibliography

323

Green, J. B., S. McKnight, I. H. Marshall (eds), Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels (Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1992). Greenspahn, Fredrick E., ‘The Theology of the Framework of Judges’, VT 36 (1986), pp. 385–96. Gruen, Erich, Heritage and Hellenism (Berkeley/Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1998). Grundmann, Walter, ‘The Teacher of Righteousness of Qumran and the Question of Justification by Faith in the Theology of the Apostle Paul’, in Paul and Qumran: Studies in New Testament Exegesis (ed. J. Murphy-O’Conner; London: G. Chapman, 1968), pp. 85–114. Repr. RevQ 2 (1960), pp. 237–59. Gurtner, Daniel M., Review of Liv Ingeborg Lied, The Other Lands of Israel, JJS 61.2 (2010), p. 355. ——, Second Baruch: A Critical Edition of the Syriac Text (ed. J. H. Charlesworth; JCTCRS, 5; London: T&T Clark, 2009). ——, ‘The “Twenty-Fifth Year of Jeconiah” and the Date of 2 Baruch’, JSP 18.1 (2008), pp. 23–32. Hacham, N., ‘3 Maccabees: An Anti-Dionysian Polemic’, in Ancient Fiction: The Matrix of Early Christian and Jewish Narrative (eds J. Brant, et al.; SBLSymS, 32. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2005), pp. 167–83. ——, ‘3 Maccabees and Esther: Parallels, Intertextuality and Diaspora Identity’, JBL 126 (2007), pp. 765–85. Hadas, Moses, The Third and Fourth Books of Maccabees (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1953). Halperin, David, The Faces of the Chariot: Early Jewish Responses to Ezekiel’s Vision (TSAJ, 16; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1988). Halpern-Amaru, Betsy, ‘Judith, book of’, in The Eerdmans Dictionary of Early Judaism (eds John J. Collins and Daniel C. Harlow; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), pp. 855–7. ——, Rewriting the Bible: Land and Covenant in Post-Biblical Jewish Literature (Valley Forge, PA; Trinity Press International, 1994). Hann, Robert, ‘The Community of the Pious: The Social Setting of the Psalms of Solomon’, SR 17 (1988), pp. 169–89. Harlow, Daniel C., ‘Idolatry and Alterity: Israel and the Nations in the Apocalypse of Abraham’, in The Other in Second Temple Judaism: Essays in Honor of John J. Collins (eds Daniel C. Harlow, et al.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011), pp. 302–30. Harnisch, Wolfgang, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte: Untersuchen zum Zeitund Geschichtsverständnis im 4. Buch Esra und in der syr. Baruchapokalypse (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1969). Harrington, Daniel, ‘The Biblical Text of Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum’, CBQ 33 (1971), pp. 1–17. ——, Introduction to the Apocrypha (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999). ——, ‘The Original Language of Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum’, HTR (1970), pp. 503–14. ——, ‘The Prophecy of Deborah: Interpretative Homiletics in Targum Jonathan of Judges 5’, CBQ 48 (1986), pp. 432–42. ——, ‘Pseudo-Philo’, in OTP, pp. 297–377. Harrington, D. J., and A. J. Saldarini, Targum Jonathan of the Former Prophets (ArBib, 10; Wilmington: Glazier; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1987). Hayman, A. P., ‘The “Man from the Sea” in 4 Ezra 13’, JJS 49 (1998), pp. 1–16. Hayward, R., The Targum of Jeremiah (ArBib, 12; Wilmington: Glazier; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1987). Hempel, Charlotte, ‘Comments on the Translation of 4QSd I,1’, JJS 44 (1993), pp. 127–28. ——, ‘The Earthly Essene Nucleus of 1QSa’, DSD 3 (1996), pp. 253–69. ——, The Laws of the Damascus Document: Sources, Tradition, and Redaction (STDJ, 29; Leiden: Brill, 1998). Helleman, W. E., ‘Philo of Alexandria on Deification and Assimilation to God’, SPhilo Annual 2 (1990), pp. 51–71. Helm, Robert, ‘Azazel in Early Jewish Tradition’, AUSS 32 (1994), pp. 217–26.

324

Bibliography

Hilgenfeld, Adolph, ‘Die Psalmen Salomo’s und die Himmelfahrt des Moses, griechisch hergestellt und erklärt’, ZWT 11 (1868), pp. 133–68. Ho, Ahuva, The Targum of Zephaniah. Manuscripts and Commentary (SAIS, 7; Leiden: Brill, 2009). Hogan, Karina Martin, ‘The Exegetical Background of the “Ambiguity of Death” in the Wisdom of Solomon’, JSJ 30 (1999), pp. 1–24. Hogeterp, Albert L. A., ‘4QMMT and Paradigms of Second Temple Jewish Nomism’, DSD 15 (2008), pp. 359–79. Hölbl, Günther, Geschichte des Ptolemäer-Reiches (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, rev. edn, 2004). Holm-Nielsen, Svend, ‘Die Psalmen Salomos’, in JSHRZ (eds W. G. Kümmel, et al.; vol. 4.2; Gütersloh: Gerd Mohn, 1977), pp. 51–112. ——, ‘Erwägungen zu dem Verhältnis zwischen den Hodajot und den Psalmen Salomos’, in Bibel und Qumran (ed. Seigfried Wagner; Berlin: Evangelische Haupt-Bibelgesellschaft, 1968), pp. 112–31. Horgan, Maurya P., Pesharim: Qumran Interpretations of Biblical Books (CBQMS, 8; Washington, D.C.: The Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1979). Horsley, Richard A., and Jonathan Draper, Whoever Hears You Hears Me: Prophets, Performance, and Tradition in Q (Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press International, 1999). Hubbard, Moyer V., New Creation in Paul’s Letters and Thought (SNTSMS, 119; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002). Huizenga, L. A., ‘The Battle for Isaac: Exploring the Composition and Function of the Aqedah in the Book of Jubilees’, JSP 13.1 (2002), pp. 33–59. Humphreys, W. L., ‘A Life-Style for the Diaspora: A Study of the Tales of Esther and Daniel’, JBL 92 (1973), pp. 211–30. Hunzinger, Claus-Hunno, ‘Beobachtungen zur Entwicklung der Disziplinarordnung der Gemeinde von Qumran’, in Qumran-Probleme: Vortläge des Leipziger Symposions über Qumran-Probleme vom 9. bis 14. Oktober 1961 (ed. H. Bardtke; Deutsche Akademie der Wissenschaften: Schriften der Sektion für Altertumswissenschaft, 42; Berlin: AkademieVerlag, 1963), pp. 231–47. ——, ‘Fragmente einer älteren Fassung des Buches Milhama aus Höhle 4 von Qumran’, ZAW 69 (1957), pp. 131–51. Ilg, Norbert, ‘Überlegungen zum Verständnis von tyrb in den Qumrântexten’, in Qumrân: Sa piété, sa théologie et son milieu (ed. M. Delcor; BETL, 46; Paris: Duculot/Leuven: Leuven University, 1978), pp. 257–63. Iovino, Paolo, ‘“The Only Wise God” in the Letter to the Romans: Connections with the Book of Wisdom’, in The Book of Wisdom in Modern Research (eds H. Passaro and G. Bellia; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2005), pp. 283–305. Jacobson, Howard, A Commentary on Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum (AGJU, 31. 2 vols; Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1996). James, M. R., The Biblical Antiquities of Philo (New York: Ktav, 1971). Janowski, Bernd, ‘Azazel’, in Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible (eds Karel van der Toorn, Bob Becking and Pieter W. van der Horst; Leiden: Brill, 1995), cols 240–8. Jassen, Alex P., Mediating the Divine: Prophecy and Revelation in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Second Temple Judaism (STDJ, 68; Leiden: Brill, 2007). ——, ‘Religion in the Dead Sea Scrolls’, Religion Compass 1 (2007), pp. 1–25. ——, ‘Rereading 4QPesher Isaiah A (4Q161) Forty Years after DJD 5’, in The Mermaid and the Partridge: Essays from the Copenhagen Conference on Revisiting Texts from Cave Four (eds G. J. Brooke and J. Høgenhaven; STDJ 96; Leiden: Brill, 2010), pp. 57–90. ——, ‘Violence and the Dead Sea Scrolls: Sectarian Formation and Eschatological Imagination’, BibInt 17 (2009), pp. 12–44. Jaubert, Annie, La notion de l’Alliance dans le Judaïsme aux abords de l’ère chrétienne (Paris: Seuil, 1963), pp. 209–49. Johnson, Sara R., Historical Fictions and Hellenistic Jewish Identity. Third Maccabees in its Cultural Context (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004). Kabisch, Richard, Das vierte Buch Esra auf seine Quellen Untersucht (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck



Bibliography

325

und Ruprecht, 1889). Kasher, Rimon, ‘Different Approaches to Mythical Descriptions in the Targums to the Prophets’, JAB 2 (2000), pp. 61–74. ——, ‘Eschatological Ideas in the Toseftot Targum to the Prophets’, JAB 2 (2000), pp. 25–59. Keulers, Joseph, Die eschatologische Lehre des vierten Esrabuches (BS, 20.2-3; Freiburg: Herder, 1922). Kim, Heerak Christian, The Jerusalem Tradition in the Late Second Temple Period: Diachronic and Synchronic Developments Surrounding Psalms of Solomon 11 (Lanham: University Press of America, 2007). Kipper, Martina, Hellenistische Bildung im Buch der Weisheit. Studien zur Sprachgestalt und Theologie der Sapientia Salomonis (BZAW, 280; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 1998). Kister, M., ‘Demons, Theology, and Abraham’s Covenant’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls at Fifty: Proceedings of the 1997 Society of Biblical Literature Qumran Section Meetings (eds R. A. Kugler and E. M. Schuller; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1999), pp. 167–84. Kittel, G., and G. Friedrich (eds), TDNT (trans. G. W. Bromiley; 10 vols. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1964–76). Kittel, Rudolf, ‘Die Psalmen Salomos’, in APAT (ed. Emil F. Kautzsch; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1900), pp. 127–48. Klawans, Jonathan, ‘Idolatry, Incest, and Impurity: Moral Defilement in Ancient Judaism’, JSJ 29 (1998), pp. 391–415. Klein, Charlotte, Anti-Judaism in Christian Theology (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978). Klijn, A. Frederik J., ‘2 (Syriac Apocalypse of) Baruch’, in OTP 1.615-52. ——, Der Lateinische Text der Apocalypse des Esra (TUGAL, 131; Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 1983). ——, Die Esra-Apocalypse (IV. Esra) (GCS; Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 1992). Klinzing, Georg, Die Umdeutung des Kultus in der Qumrangemeinde und im Neuen Testament (SUNT, 7; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1971). Kloner, Amos, and Yosef Gat, ‘Burial Caves in the Region of East Talpiyot’, Atiqot (Hebr. series) 8 (1982), pp. 74–6. Knibb, M. A., ‘Commentary on 2 Esdras’, in The First and Second Books of Esdras (eds M. A. Knibb and R. J. Coggins; CBC; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979), pp. 76– 307. ——, ‘The Exile in the Literature of the Intertestamental Period’, HeyJ 17 (1976), pp. 253–72. ——, The Qumran Community (Cambridge Commentaries on Writings of the Jewish and Christian World 200 BC to AD 200; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987). Knöpler, Thomas, ‘Die Gottesvorstellung des 3. Makkabäerbuches’, in Jüdische Schriften in ihrem antik-jüdischen und urchristlichen Kontext (eds Hermann Lichtenberger and Gerbern S. Oegema; Studien zu den Jüdischen Schriften aus hellenistisch-römischer Zeit, 1; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 2002), pp. 209–19. Knowles, Michael P., ‘Abram and the Birds in Jubilees 11: A Subtext for the Parable of the Sower?’ NTS 41 (1995), pp. 145–51. Kolarcik, Michael, The Ambiguity of Death in the Book of Wisdom 1–6: A Study of Literary Structure and Interpretation (AnBib, 127; Rome: Pontificio Istituto Biblico, 1991). ——, ‘The Book of Wisdom’, in New Interpreter’s Bible (ed. Leander E. Keck; Nashville: Abingdon, 1997), pp. 5.435–600. ——, ‘Universalism and Justice in the Wisdom of Solomon’, in Treasures of Wisdom: Studies in Ben Sira and the Book of Wisdom Festschrift M. Gilbert (eds Nuria Calduch-Benages and Jacques Vermeylen; BETL, 143; Leuven: Peeters, 1999), pp. 289–301. Kraft, R. A., ‘Scripture and Canon in Jewish Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha’, in Hebrew Bible/ Old Testament: The History of Its Interpretation. I, 1: From the Beginnings to the Middle Ages (Until 1300) (ed. M. Sæbø; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1996), pp. 199–217. Kratz, R. G., Translatio imperii: Untersuchungen zu den aramäischen Danielzählungen und ihrem theologiegeschichtlichen Umfeld (WMANT, 63; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1991). Kugel, James, ‘The Holiness of Israel and the Land in Second Temple Times’, in Texts, Temples, and Traditions: A Tribute to Menahem Haran (eds Michael V. Fox, Victor Avigdor Hurowitz,

326

Bibliography

Avi Hurvitz, Michael L. Klein, Baruch J. Schwartz and Nili Shupak; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1996), pp. 21–32. Kugler, Robert A., ‘Hearing 4Q225: A Case Study in Reconstructing the Religious Imagination of the Qumran Community’, DSD 10/1 (2003), pp. 81–103. ——, ‘A Note on 1QS9:14: The Sons of Righteousness or the Sons of Zadok?’ DSD 3 (1996), pp. 315–20. ——, ‘The Priesthood at Qumran: The Evidence of References to Levi and the Levites’, in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Technological Innovations, New Texts, and Reformulated Issues (eds D. W. Parry and E. Ulrich; STDJ, 30; Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 465–79. ——, ‘Rewriting Rubrics: Sacrifice and the Religion of Qumran’, in Religion in the Dead Sea Scrolls (eds John J. Collins and Robert A. Kugler; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), pp. 90–112. Kugler, Robert A., and James C. VanderKam, ‘A Note on 4Q225 (4QPseudo-Jubilees a)’, RevQ 20 (2001), pp. 133–9. Kuhn, H.-W., Enderwartung und gegenwärtiges Heil: Untersuchungen zu den Gemeindeliedern von Qumran (SUNT, 4; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1966). Kuhn, Karl G., Die älteste Textgestalt der Psalmen Salomos Insbesondere auf grund der Syrischen übersetzung Neu Untersucht (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1937). Kulik, Alexander, ‘The Gods of Nahor: A Note on the Pantheon of the Apocalypse of Abraham’, JJS 54 (2003), pp. 228–32. Laato, Antii, A Star Is Rising: The Historical Development of the Old Testament Royal Ideology and the Rise of the Jewish Messianic Expectations (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1997). Lane, W. L., ‘Paul’s Legacy From Pharisaism: Light From the Psalms of Solomon’, CJ 8 (1982), pp. 130–8. Lange, Armin, Weisheit und Prädestination: Wisheitliche Urordnung und Prädestination in den Textfunden von Qumran (STDJ, 18; Leiden: Brill, 1995). ——, ‘Wisdom and Predestination in the Dead Sea Scrolls’, DSD 2 (1995), pp. 340–54. Lange, Armin, and Hermann Lichtenberger, ‘Qumran. Die Textfunde von Qumran’, TRE 28 (1997), pp. 45–79. Larcher, Chrysostom, Le Livre de la Sagesse ou la Sagesse de Salomon (3 vols; Études bibliques. Paris: Gabalda, 1983–85). Laubscher, F. du T., ‘The Restoration of 1QS 1:1A’, JNSL 16 (1990), pp. 85–90. ——, ‘The Zadokites Element in the Qumran Documents in the Light of CD 4:3’, JNSL 24 (1998), pp. 165–75. Leaney, A. R. C., The Rule of the Community (NTL; London: SCM, 1966). Lehmann, M. R., ‘New Light on Astrology in Qumran and the Talmud’, RevQ 8 (1975), pp. 599–602; Lehtipuu, Outi, The Afterlife Imagery in Luke’s Story of the Rich Man and Lazarus (NovTSup, 123; Leiden: Brill, 2007). Leproux, Alexis, Un discours de Sagesse. Étude exègétique de Sg 7–8 (AnBib, 167; Pontificio Istituto Biblico, 2007). Levett, M., and M. Burnyeat, Plato: Complete Works (ed. J. Cooper; Indianapolis: Hackett, 1997). Levey, Samson H., ‘The Date of Targum Jonathan to the Prophets’, VT 21 (1971), pp. 186–96. ——, The Messiah: An Aramaic Interpretation. The Messianic Exegesis of the Targum (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College, 1974). ——, The Targum of Ezekiel (ArBib, 13; Wilmington: Glazier; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1987). Lévi, Israel, ‘Les dix-huit bénédictions et les Psaumes de Salomon’, REJ 32 (1896), pp. 161– 78. Levinson, John, ‘Torah and Covenant in Pseudo Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum’, in Bund und Torah: Zur theologischen Begriffsgeschichte in alttestamentlicher, frühjüdischer und urchristlicher Tradition (eds Friedrich Avemarie and Hermann Lichtenberger; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1996), pp. 111–27. Lévy, Carlos, ‘Philo’s Ethics’, in The Cambridge Companion to Philo (ed. Adam Kamesar; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), pp. 146–71.



Bibliography

327

Lichtenberger, Hermann, ‘Atonement and Sacrifice in the Qumran Community’, in Approaches to Ancient Judaism (ed. W. S. Green; Chico: Scholars Press, 1980), pp. 2.159–71. ——, ‘Enderwartung und Reinheitsidee: Zur eschtologischen Deutung von Reinheit und Sühne in der Qumrangemeinde’, JJS 34 (1983), pp. 31–62. ——, Studien zum Menschenbild in den Texten der Qumrangemeinde (SUNT, 15; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1980). Lichtenberger, Hermann, and Ekkehard Stegemann, ‘Zur Theologie des Bundes in Qumran und im Neuen Testament’, Kirche und Israel 6 (1991), pp. 136–7. Lied, Liv Ingeborg, The Other Lands of Israel: Imaginations of the Land in 2 Baruch (JSJSup, 129; Leiden: Brill, 2008). Lim, Timothy H., Pesharim (CQS, 3; London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002). Longenecker, Bruce W., 2 Esdras (GAP; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1995). ——, Eschatology and the Covenant: A Comparison of 4 Ezra and Romans 1–11 (JSNTSup, 57; Sheffield: JSOT, 1991). ——, ‘Locating 4 Ezra: A Consideration of its Social Setting and Functions’, JSJ 28 (1997), pp. 271–93. Lorein, G. W., ‘)twklm in the Targum of the Prophets’, AS 3.1 (2005), pp. 15–42. Lourié, B., ‘Metatron i Prometaya: Btoraya Kniga Enoxa na Perekrestke Problem’, Scrinium 2 (2006), pp. 371–407. Lührmann, Dieter, ‘Paul and the Pharisaic Tradition’, JSNT 36 (1989), pp. 75–94. Macaskill, Grant, ‘2 Enoch: Manuscripts, Recensions and Original Language’, in Enoch, Adam, Melchizedek: Mediatorial Figures in 2 Enoch and Second Temple Judaism (A. Orlov, et al. (eds); Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011). ——, ‘Adam Octipartite: A New Translation with Notes’, in More Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (eds R. J. Bauckham, J. R. Davila and A. A. Panayotov; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012). ——, ‘The Creation of Man in 2 (Slavonic) Enoch and Christian Tradition’, in Congress Volume: XIXth Congress of the International Organization for the Study of the Old Testament (IOSOT), Ljubljana 16-20 July 2007 (ed. André Lemaire; Leiden: Brill, 2010), pp. 399–422. ——, ‘Paradise in the New Testament’, in Paradise in Antiquity: Jewish and Christian Views (eds M. Bockmuehl and G. Stroumsa; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010), pp. 64–81. ——, ‘Priestly Purity, Mosaic Torah and the Emergence of Enochic Judaism’, Hen 29 (2007), pp. 67–89. ——, Revealed Wisdom and Inaugurated Eschatology in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity (JSJSup, 115; Leiden: Brill, 2007). Magness, J., The Archaeology of Qumran and the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002). ——, ‘Qumran Archaeology: Past Perspectives and Future Prospects’, in The Dead Sea Scrolls After Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (eds P. W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; 2 vols; Leiden: Brill, 1998), pp. 1.47–77. Maier, Johann, Die Qumran-Essener: Die Texte vom Toten Meer (3 vols; Munich/Basle: Reinhardt, 1995–96). Martínez, García, The Dead Sea Scrolls Translated: The Qumran Texts in English (trans. W. G. E. Watson; Leiden: Brill/Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2nd edn, 1996). Martínez, Florentino García, and Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition (2 vols; Leiden: Brill, 1997). Mason, Steve, ‘Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism: Problems of Categorization in Ancient History’, JSJ 38 (2007), pp. 457–512. Mason, Steve, with Honora Chapman, Flavius Josephus Translation and Commentary: Volume 1B Judean War 2 (Leiden: Brill, 2008). Maunder, A. S. D., ‘The Date and Place of Writing of the Slavonic Book of Enoch’, The Observatory 41 (1918), pp. 309–16. McGinn, B., ‘Introduction: Apocalyptic Spirituality’, in Apocalyptic Spirituality: Treatises and Letters of Lactantius, Adso of Montier-en-Der, Joachim of Fiore, the Franciscan Spirituals, Savonarola (The Classics of Western Spirituality; New York: Paulist Press, 1979), pp. 1–16.

328

Bibliography

McGlynn, Moyna, Divine Judgment and Divine Benevolence in the Book of Wisdom (WUNT, 2/139; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001). McNamara, Martin, The New Testament and the Palestinian Targum to the Pentateuch (AnBib, 27/27a; Rome: Biblical Pontifical Institute, 1966/1978). Mélèze Modrzejewski, Joseph, La Bible d’Alexandrie. 15.3 Troisième Livre des Maccabées (Paris: Cerf, 2008). ——, The Jews of Egypt: From Rameses II to Emperor Hadrian (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997). Merrill, Eugene H., Qumran and Predestination: A Theological Study of the Thanksgiving Hymns (STDJ, 8; Leiden: Brill, 1975). Metso, Sarianna, ‘In Search of the Sitz im Leben of the Community Rule’, in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Technological Innovations, New Texts, and Reformulated Issues (eds D. W. Parry and E. Ulrich; STDJ, 30; Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 306–15. ——, The Serekh Texts (London: T&T Clark, 2007). ——, The Textual Development of the Qumran Community Rule (STDJ, 21; Leiden: Brill, 1997). Metzger, Bruce M., An Introduction to the Apocrypha (New York: Oxford University Press, 1957). Metzger, Bruce M., and Roland E. Murphy (eds), The New Oxford Annotated Apocrypha (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991). Middleton, J. R., and M. J. Gorman, ‘Salvation’, in The New Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, Volume 5 (ed. K. D. Sakenfeld; Nashville: Abingdon, 2009), pp. 45–61. Milik, J. T., Qumran Cave 1 (DJD, I; Oxford: Clarendon, 1955). Milik, J. T., with Matthew Black, The Book of Enoch: Aramaic Fragments from Qumran Cave 4 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1976). Moo, Jonathan, Creation, Nature and Hope in Fourth Ezra (FRLANT 237; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2011). ——, ‘A Messiah whom “the Many do not Know”? Rereading 4 Ezra 5:6-7’, JTS NS 58 (2007), pp. 525–36. Moore, Carey A., Judith: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB, 40; New York: Doubleday, 1985). ——, ‘Judith, Book of’, in ABD (ed. D. N. Freedman; 6 vols; New York, 1992), pp. 3.117–25. Moore, George Foot, Judaism in the First Centuries of the Christian Era, the Age of the Tannaim (vol. 2; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1927). Morawe, G., ‘Vergleich des Aufbaus der Danklieder und hymnischen Bekenntnislieder (1QH) von Qumran mit dem Aufbau der Psalmen im Alten Testament und im Spätjudentum’, RevQ 15 (1963), pp. 342–56. Mortensen, B. P., ‘Pseudo-Jonathan and Economics for Priests’, JSP 20 (1999), pp. 39–71. Murphy, Fredrick J., ‘Divine Plan, Human Plan: A Structuring Theme in Pseudo-Philo’, JQR 77 (1986), pp. 5–14. ——, ‘The Eternal Covenant in Pseudo-Philo’, JSP 3 (1988), pp. 43–57. ——, Pseudo-Philo: Rewriting the Bible (New York/Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993). ——, ‘Retelling the Bible: Idolatry in Pseudo-Philo’, JBL 107 (1988), pp. 275–87. ——, The Structure and Meaning of Second Baruch (SBLDS, 78; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985). Murphy, Roland E., The Tree of Life: An Exploration of Biblical Wisdom Literature (New York: Doubleday, 1990). Murphy-O’Connor, J., ‘La genèse littéraire de la Règle de la Communauté’, RB 76 (1969), pp. 528–49. Najman, H., ‘Reconsidering Jubilees: Prophecy and Exemplarity’, in Enoch and the Mosaic Torah: The Evidence of Jubilees (eds G. Boccaccini and G. Ibba; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), pp. 229–43. Navtanovich, Liudmila, ‘Lingvotekstologicheskii analiz drevneslavianskogo perevoda Knigi Enoha’, (PhD diss.; St Petersburg, 2000). Neher, Martin, Wesen und Wirken der Weisheit in der Sapientia Salomonis (BZAW, 333; Berlin/ New York: W. de Gruyter, 2004).



Bibliography

329

Ness, Lester, Written in the Stars: Ancient Zodiac Mosaics (Marco Polo Monographs, 1; Warren Center, PA: Shangri-La, 1999). Neusner, J., Handbook of Rabbinic Theology (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2003). ——, Rabbinic Judaism: Theological System (Boston/Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2003). ——, The Theology of the Oral Torah. Revealing the Justice of God (Kingston and Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 1999; Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1999). ——, ‘The Use of Later Rabbinic Evidence for the Study of Paul’, in Approaches to Ancient Judaism (ed. W. S. Green; Chico: Scholars Press, 1980), pp. 2.43–63. Newman, Judith, ‘The Staff of Moses and the Mercy of God’, in Israel in the Wilderness: Interpretations of Biblical Narratives in Jewish and Christian Traditions (ed. Kenneth Pomykala; Leiden: Brill, 2008), pp. 137–56. Nickelsburg, George W. E., 1 Enoch 1: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch, Chapters 1-36; 81-108 (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001). ——, ‘1 Enoch’s Vague Visions of a Future Social Order: Foils to its Vivid Portrayals of the Present Chaos’, in Jewish and Christian Visions of the Social Order: Describing, Analyzing, and Comparing Systems of the Formative Age (eds Jacob Neusner, Bruce D. Chilton and Alan J. Avery-Peck; Washington, D.C.: University Press of America, forthcoming). ——, Ancient Judaism and Christian Origins: Diversity, Continuity, and Transformation (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003). ——, ‘Good and Bad Leaders in Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum’, in Ideal Figures in Ancient Judaism: Profiles and Paradigms (eds John J. Collins and George W. E. Nickelsburg; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1980), pp. 49–65. ——, Jewish Literature Between the Bible and the Mishnah: A Literary and Historical Introduction (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1981). Second Edition: 2005. ——, ‘Religious Exclusivism: A World View Governing Some Texts Found at Qumran’, in Das Ende der Tage und die Gegenwart des Heils: Begegnungen mit dem Neuen Testament und seiner Umwelt (Fs. Heinz-Wolfgang Kuhn; eds M. Becker and W. Fenske; AGJU, 44; Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 45–67. ——, Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal Life in Intertestamental Judaism and Early Christianity (HTS, 56; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2nd edn, 2006). Nickelsburg, George W. E. (ed.), Studies on the Testament of Abraham (SBLSCS, 6; Missoula, MT; Scholars Press, 1976). Nitzan, Bilhah, Megillat Pesher Habakkuk (Jerusalem: Bialik Institute, 1986) (Heb.). O’Dell, J., ‘The Religious Background of the Psalms of Solomon (Re-Evaluated in the Light of the Qumran Texts)’, RevQ 3 (1961), pp. 241–57. Orlov, Andrei A., The Enoch-Metatron Tradition (TSAJ, 107; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005). ——, ‘Eschatological Yom Kippur in the Apocalypse of Abraham: Part I. The Scapegoat Ritual’, in Symbola Caelestis: Le symbolisme liturgique et paraliturgique dans le monde chrétien (eds Andrei Orlov and Basil Lourié; Scrinium, 5; Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias, 2009) pp. 89–121. ——, From Apocalypticism to Merkabah Mysticism: Studies in the Slavonic Pseudepigrapha (JSPSup, 114; Leiden: Brill, 2007). ——, ‘The Melchizedek Legend of 2 Enoch’, JSJ 31, (2000), pp. 23–38. ——, ‘On the Polemical Nature of 2 (Slavonic) Enoch: A Reply to C. Böttrich’, JSJ 34 (2003), pp. 274–303. ——, ‘The Origin of the Name “Metatron” and the Text of 2 (Slavonic Apocalypse of) Enoch’, JSP 21 (2000), pp. 19–26. ——, ‘Praxis of the Voice: The Divine Name Traditions in the Apocalypse of Abraham’, JBL 127 (2008), pp. 53–70. Orlov, A., G. Boccaccini, and J. Zurawski (eds), Enoch, Adam, Melchizedek: Mediatorial Figures in 2 Enoch and Second Temple Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011). Otzen, Benedit, Tobit and Judith (London: Sheffield Academic, 2002). Oxtoby, W. G., ‘Reflections on the Idea of Salvation’, in Man and His Salvation: Studies in Memory of S. G. F. Brandon (eds E. J. Sharpe and J. R. Hinnells; Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1974), pp. 16–37. Perdue, Leo G., The Sword and the Stylus: An Introduction to Wisdom in the Age of Empires (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008).

330

Bibliography

Pérez Fernández, Miguel, ‘4QMMT: Redactional Study’, RevQ 18 (1997), pp. 191–205. Pfann, Stephen J., ‘A Reassessment of Qumran’s Calendars’, Hen 31.1 (2009), pp. 104–9. Pfeiffer, Robert H., The History, Religion and Literature of Israel (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University, 1925). Philonenko-Sayar, Belkis, and Marc Philonenko, Die Apokalypse Abrahams (JSHRZ, 5.5; Gutersloh: Mohn, 1982). ——, L’Apocalypse d’Abraham: Introduction, texte slave, traduction et notes (Sem 31; Paris: Adrien Maissonneuve, 1981). Pines, S., ‘Eschatology and the Concept of Time in the Slavonic Book of Enoch’, in Types of Redemption: Contributions to the Theme of the Study-Conference Held at Jerusalem 14th to 19th July 1968 (eds R. J. Zwi Werblowsky and Claas J. Bleeker; Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1970), pp. 72–87. Poirier, John C., ‘The Ouranology of the Apocalypse of Abraham’, JSJ 35 (2004), pp. 391– 408. Polzin, Robert, Moses and the Deuteronomist: A Literary Study of the Deuteronomistic History (New York: Seabury, 1980). Pouilly, J., La Règle de la Communauté de Qumrân: son évolution littéraire (CahRB, 17; Paris: Gabalda, 1976). Puech, Émile, ‘Fragments du plus ancien exemplaire du Rouleau du Temple (4Q524)’, in Legal Texts and Legal Issues: Proceedings of the Second Meeting of the International Organization for Qumran Studies, Cambridge 1995 (Fs. Joseph M. Baumgarten; eds M. Berstein, et al.; Leiden: Brill, 1997). ——, ‘Quelques aspects de la restauration du Rouleau des Hymnes (1QH)’, JJS 38 (1988), pp. 38–55. ——, ‘Quelques Observations sur le “Canon” des ’, in Authoritative Scriptures in Ancient Judaism (ed. Mladen Popovic´; JSJSup, 141; Leiden: Brill, 2010), pp. 117–41. ——, Qumran Grotte 4 XVIII: Textes Hebreux (4Q521-4Q528, 4Q576-4Q579) (DJD, XXV; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998). ——, Review of Metso, The Textual Development, in RevQ 18 (1998), pp. 448–53 Qimron, Elisha, and John Strugnell, Qumran Cave 4.V: 4QMiqs. at Ma‘as´e Ha-Torah (DJD, X; Oxford: Clarendon, 1994). Rabin, Chaim, The Zadokite Documents (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2nd rev. edn, 1958). Rabinowitz, Isaac, ‘“Pe¯sher/Pitta¯ro¯n”: Its Biblical Meaning and its Significance in the Qumran Literature’, RevQ 8 (1973), pp. 219–32. Rahlfs, Alfred, Septuaginta, id est Vetus Testamentum graece iuxta LXX interpretes (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1935). Rajak, Tessa, ‘The Angry Tyrant’, in Jewish Perspectives on Hellenistic Rulers (eds T. Rajak, et al.; Berkeley/Los Angeles/London: University of California Press, 2007), pp. 110–27. ——, Translation and Survival. The Greek Bible of the Ancient Jewish Diaspora (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009). Reese, James M., The Book of Wisdom, Song of Songs (Old Testament Message, 20; Wilmington, DE: Michael Glazier, 1983). ——, Hellenistic Influences on the Book of Wisdom and Its Consequences (AnBib, 41; Rome: Pontificio Istituto Biblico, 1970). Reider, Joseph, The Book of Wisdom (New York: Harper, 1957). Reinmuth, Eckart, Pseudo-Philo und Lukas: Studien zum Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum und seinerBedeutung für die Interpretation des lukanischen Doppelwerks (WUNT, 74; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck), 1994). Renaut, Luc, ‘Ptolémée Philopator et le stigmate de Dionysos’, Metis NS 4 (2006), pp. 211–38. Reymond, Eric D., ‘The Poetry of the Wisdom of Solomon Reconsidered’, VT 52 (2002), pp. 385–99. Ringgren, Helmer, The Faith of Qumran: Theology of the Dead Sea Scrolls (New York: Crossroad, 1995; repr. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1963). Roitman, Adolfo D., ‘Achior in the Book of Judith: His Role and Significance’, in No one Spoke Ill of Her: Essays on Judith (ed. J. C. VanderKam; SBLEJL, 2; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992), pp. 31–45.



Bibliography

331

Rosenberg, Roy, ‘Sedeq as Divine Hypostasis in Qumran Texts and its Link to the Emergence of Christianity’, in Mogilany 1993: Papers on the Dead Sea Scrolls (Fs. Z. J. Kapera; Krakóv: Enigma Press, 1996), pp. 109–27. Rubinkiewicz, Ryszard, ‘Apocalypse of Abraham’, in OTP 1.681–705. ——, L’Apocalypse d’Abraham en vieux slave: Édition critique du texte, introduction, traduction et commentaire (Z´ródła i monografie, 129; Lublin: Société des Lettres et des Sciences de l’Université Catholique de Lublin, 1987). Runia, David, Philo of Alexandria: On the Creation of the Cosmos according to Moses: Introduction, Translation, and Commentary (Philo of Alexandria Commentary Series; Leiden: Brill, 2002; repr. Atlanta: SBL, 2005). Ryle, Herbert Edward, and Montague Rhodes James, Psalms of the Pharisees, Commonly Called the Psalms of Solomon (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1891). Sacchi, P., L’Apocalittica giudaica e la sua storia (Brescia: Paideia, 1990). Sanders, E. P., ‘Covenantal Nomism Revisited’, JSQ 1 (2009), pp. 25–55. ——, Jewish Law from Jesus to the Mishnah: Five Studies (London: SCM/Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1990). ——, Judaism: Practice & Belief 63 BCE – 66 CE (London: SCM, 1992). ——, Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion (Philadelphia/ London: Fortress Press/SPCK, 1977). ——, ‘Puzzling Out Rabbinic Judaism’, in Approaches to Ancient Judaism (ed. W. S. Green; Chico: Scholars Press, 1980), pp. 2.65–79. Sanders, James A., ‘Habakkuk in Qumran, Paul, and the Old Testament’, JR 39 (1959), pp. 232–44. Sandmel, Samuel, Philo of Alexandria: An Introduction (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1979). Sawyer, J. F. A. ‘(#y’, ThWAT, Band III (eds G. J. Botterweck and H. Ringgren; Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1982), cols 1035–59. Schechter, Solomon, Documents of Jewish Sectaries: Fragments of a Zadokite Work (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1910). Schenck, Kenneth, A Brief Guide to Philo (Knoxville: Westminster John Knox, 2005). Schiefer, F. W. ‘Sünde und Schuld in der Apokalypse des Baruch’, ZWT 45 (1902), pp. 327–39. Schiffman, Lawrence H., ‘The Concept of Covenant in the Qumran Scrolls and Rabbinic Literature’, in Qumran and Jerusalem: Studies in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the History of Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), pp. 235–55. ——, ‘The Concept of Restoration in the Dead Sea Scrolls’, in Restoration: Old Testament, Jewish, & Christian Perspectives (ed. J. M. Scott; JSJSup, 72; Leiden: Brill, 2001), pp. 203– 21. ——, ‘The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Early History of Jewish Liturgy’, in The Synagogue in Late Antiquity (ed. Lee L. Levine; Philadelphia: American Schools of Oriental Research, 1987), pp. 33–48. Schipper, Bernd Ulrich, ‘“Apokalyptik”, “Messianismus”, “Prophetie” – Eine Begriffsbestimmung’, in Apokalyptik und Ägypten: Eine kritische Analyse der relevanten Texte aus dem griechischrömischen Ägypten (eds A. Blasius and B. U. Schipper; OLA, 107; Leuven: Peeters, 2002), pp. 21–40. Schmitt, A., ‘Die Danieltexte aus Qumran und der masoretische Text (M)’, in Nachdenken über Israel, Bibel und Theologie: Festschrift für Klaus-Dietrich Schunck zu seinem 65. Geburtstag (eds H. M. Niemann, et al.; BEATAJ, 37; Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 1994), pp. 279–97. Scholem, Gershom G., Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism (New York: Schocken, 1946). Schröter, Jens, ‘Gerechtigkeit und Barmherzigkeit: das Gottesbild der Psalmen Salomos in seinem Verhältnis zu Qumran und Paulus’, NTS 44 (1998), pp. 557–77. Schubert, Kurt, The Dead Sea Community: Its Origins and Teachings (trans. J. W. Doberstein; Westport, CN: Greenwood, 1959). ——, ‘Die jüdischen und judenchristlichen Sekten im Lichte des Handschristenfundes von “En Fescha”’, ZKTh 74 (1952), pp. 1–62. Schulz, Siegfried, ‘Zur Rechtfertigung aus Gnaden in Qumran und bei Paulus: Zugleich ein Beitrag zur Form- und Überlieferungsgeschichte der Qumrantexte’, ZTK 66 (1959), pp. 155–85.

332

Bibliography

Schüpphaus, Joachim, Die Psalmen Salomos: Ein Zeugnis Jerusalemer Theologie und Frömigkeit in der Mitte des vorchristlichen Jarhunderts (Leiden: Brill, 1977). Schürer, Emil, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ (175 B.C.-A.D. 135) (eds Geza Vermes, Fergus Millar and Martin Goodman; 3 vols; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, rev. edn, 1973–87). Segal, Alan F., Life after Death: A History of the Afterlife in Western Religion (New York: Doubleday, 2004). Segal, Michael, The Book of Jubilees: Rewritten Bible, Redaction, Ideology, and Theology (JSJSup, 77; Leiden: Brill, 2007). Seifrid, Mark A., Justification by Faith: The Origin and Development of a Central Pauline Theme (NovTSup, 68; Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1992). Semmelink, J. W., ‘Die verband tussen genade en werke in 1QS se reddingsbegrip’, SK 16 (1995), pp. 102–24. Sen, A., The Idea of Justice (Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of the Harvard University Press, 2009). Seow, C. L., ‘The Rule of God in the Book of Daniel’, in David and Zion. Biblical Studies in Honor of J.J.M. Roberts (eds B. F. Baato and K. L. Roberts; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2004), pp. 219–46. Shemesh, Aharon, ‘4Q265 and the Authoritative Status of Jubilees at Qumran’, in Enoch and the Mosaic Torah: The Evidence of Jubilees (eds G. Boccaccini and G. Ibba; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), pp. 247–60. Skehan, Patrick W., ‘The Hand of Judith’, CBQ 25 (1963), pp. 94–109. ——, ‘The Literary Relationship of the Book of Wisdom to Earlier Wisdom Writings’, in Israelite Poetry and Wisdom (CBQMS, 1; Washington, D.C.: Catholic Biblical Association, 1971), pp. 172–236. Smelik, W. F., The Targum of Judges (OTS, 36; Leiden: Brill, 1995). Smolar, Leivy, and Moses Aberbach, Studies in Targum Jonathan to the Prophets (New York/ Baltimore: KTAV/Baltimore Hebrew College, 1983). Spicq, C., ‘sw|c& w (etc.)’, Lexique théologique du Nouveau Testament (Fribourg: Éditions Universitaires de Fribourg/Paris: Cerf, 1991), pp. 1481–95. Sprinkle, Preston, ‘Covenantal Nomism Revisited: The Soteriological Framework of PseudoPhilo’, in Christian Origins and Hellenistic Judaism: Literary and Social Contexts for the New Testament (eds Stanley E. Porter and Andrew W. Pitts; The New Testament in its Hellenistic Context; Leiden: Brill, forthcoming). Stegemann, Hartmut, Die Essener, Qumran, Johannes der Täufer und Jesus: Ein Sachbuch (Freiburg: Derder, 4th edn, 1994). ——, ‘Das Gesetzeskorpus der “Damaskusschrift” CD IX-XVI’, RevQ 14 (1990), pp. 409–34. Sterling, Gregory, ‘The Philo of Alexandria Commentary Series General Introduction’, in Philo of Alexandria: On the Creation of the Cosmos according to Moses – Introduction, Translation and Commentary (ed. David Runia; Philo of Alexandria Commentary Series; Leiden: Brill, 2002; Atlanta, Georgia: SBL, 2005), pp. ix–xiv. Steudel, Annette, Der Midrasch zur Eschatologie aus der Qumrangemeinde (4QMidrEschata.b) (STDJ, 13; Leiden: Brill, 1994). ——, ‘Mymyh tyrx) in the Texts from Qumran’, RevQ 16 (1993), pp. 225–46. Stolz, F., ‘(#y’, ThWAT, Band I (eds E. Jenni and C. Westermann; München: C. Kaiser/Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 1984), cols 785–90. Stone, Michael E., Ancient Judaism: New Visions and Views (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011). ——, ‘Coherence and Inconsistency in the Apocalypses: The Case of “The End” in 4 Ezra’, JBL 102 (1983), pp. 229–43. ——, Features of the Eschatology of IV Ezra (HSS, 35; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989). ——, Fourth Ezra: A Commentary on the Book of Fourth Ezra (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990). ——, New Perspectives on Ancient Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011). Strack, H. L., and Paul Billerback, Kommentar zum Neuen Testament aus Talmud und Midrasch (6 vols; Munich: Beck, 1922). Stuckenbruck, Loren T., ‘Messianic Ideas in the Apocalyptic and Related Literature of Early



Bibliography

333

Judaism’, in The Messiah in the Old and New Testaments (ed. S. E. Porter; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), pp. 90–113. Stuhlmacher, Peter, Gerechtigkeit Gottes bei Paulus (FRLANT, 87; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1966), pp.148–66. Swarup, Paul, The Self-Understanding of the Dead Sea Scrolls Community: An Eternal Planting, A House of Holiness (LSTS, 59; London: T&T Clark, 2006). Sweeney, M. A., ‘The End of Eschatology in Daniel: Theological and Socio-Political Ramifications of the Changing Contexts of Interpretation’, BibInt 9 (2001), pp. 123–39. Talmon, Shemaryahu, ‘The Community of the Renewed Covenant: Between Judaism and Christianity’, in The Community of the Renewed Covenant: The Notre Dame Symposium on the Dead Sea Scrolls (eds E. Ulrich and J. VanderKam; Christianity and Judaism in Antiquity, 10; Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1994), pp. 3–24. ——, ‘“The Dead Sea Scrolls” or “The Community of the Renewed Covenant”’, in The Echoes of Many Texts: Reflections on Jewish and Christian Traditions (Fs. Lou Silberman; eds W. G. Dever and J. E. Wright; BJS, 313; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1997), pp. 135–40. ——, ‘The Essential “Community of the Renewed Covenant.” How Should Qumran Studies Proceed?’, in Geschichte – Tradition – Reflexion (Fs. Martin Hengel; eds H. Cancik, H. Lichtenberger and P. Schäfer; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996), pp. 323–52. Thompson, Alden Lloyd, Responsibility for Evil in the Theodicy of IV Ezra (SBLDS, 9; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1977). Tiller, Patrick A., ‘The Eternal Planting in the Dead Sea Scrolls’, DSD 4 (1997), pp. 312–35. Tobin, Thomas H., The Creation of Man: Philo and the History of Interpretation (CBQMS, 14; Washington, D.C.: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1983). ——, ‘Philo and the Sybil: Interpreting Philo’s Eschatology’, SPhilo Annual 9 (1997), pp. 84– 103. Trafton, Joseph L., The Syriac Version of the Psalms of Solomon: A Critical Evaluation (SBLSCS, 11; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985). Tromp, Johannes, ‘The Davidic Messiah in Jewish Eschatology of the First Century BCE’, in Restoration: Old Testament, Jewish, and Christian Perspectives (ed. James M. Scott; JSJSup, 72; Leiden: Brill, 2001), pp. 179–202. Turdeanu, Émile, Apocryphes Slaves et Roumains de l’Ancien Testament (SVTP, 5; Leiden: Brill, 1981). Ulrich, Ephraim E., ‘112-116. 4QDana-e’, Qumran Cave 4.XI: Psalms to Chronicles (eds E. Ulrich, et al.; DJD, 16; Oxford, Clarendon Press, 2000). ——, The Sages: Their Concepts and Beliefs (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1987). Vaillant, André, Le Livre des Secrets d’Hénoch: Texte slave et Traduction française (Textes publiés par l’Institut d’Études slaves, 4; Paris: L’Institut d’Études slaves, 1952). van Deventer, H. J. M., ‘The End of the End, or, What Is the Deuteronomist (Still) Doing in Daniel?’, in Past, Present, and Future: The Deuteronomistic History and the Prophets (eds J. C. de Moor and H. F. van Rooy; OTS, 44; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2000), pp. 62–75. van Henten, Jan Willem, ‘Judith as a Female Moses: Judith 7-13 in the Light of Exodus 17; Numbers 20 and Deuteronomy 33:8-11’, in Reflections on Theology and Gender (eds F. van Dijk-Hemmes and A. Brenner; Kampen: Kok Pharos, 1994), pp. 33–48. ——, ‘Judith as Alternative Leader: A Rereading of Judith 7–13’, in A Feminist Companion to Esther, Judith and Susanna (ed. Athalya Brenner; London: T&T Clark, 2004), pp. 224–52. van Staalduine-Sulman, Eveline, The Targum of Samuel: Studies in the Aramaic Interpretation of Scripture (Leiden: Brill, 2002). VanderKam, James C., ‘The Aqedah, Jubilees, and Pseudojubilees’, in The Quest for Context and Meaning: Studies in Biblical Intertextuality in Honor of James A. Sanders (eds C. A. Evans and S. Talmon; Leiden: Brill, 1997), pp. 241–61. ——, The Book of Jubilees (Sheffield; Sheffield Academic Press, 2001). ——, The Book of Jubilees: A Critical Text (2 vols, CSCO, 510-11; Scriptores Aethiopici, 8788; Leuven: Peeters, 1989). ——, Calendars in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Measuring Time (London: Routledge, 1998). ——, ‘Exile in Jewish Apocalyptic Literature’, in Exile: Old Testament, Jewish, and Christian Conceptions (ed. J. M. Scott; JSJSup, 56; Leiden: Brill, 1997), pp. 89–109.

334

Bibliography

——, From Joshua to Caiaphas; High Priests after the Exile (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2004). ——, ‘The Manuscript Tradition of Jubilees’, in Enoch and the Mosaic Torah: The Evidence of Jubilees (eds G. Boccaccini and F. Ibba; Grand Rapids, Michigan; Eerdmans, 2009), pp. 3–21. VanderKam, J. C., and J. T. Milik, ‘Jubilees’, in Qumran Cave 4. VIII: Parabiblical Texts, Part 1 (eds H. Attridge, T. Elgvin, et al.; DJD, 13; Oxford: Clarendon, 1994). VanderKam, J. C., and P. Flint, The Meaning of the Dead Sea Scrolls: Their Significance for Understanding the Bible, Judaism, Jesus, and Christianity (New York: HarperCollins, 2002). VanLandingham, Chris, Judgment & Justification in Early Judaism and in the Apostle Paul (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2006). Vermes, Geza, ‘The Leadership of the Qumran Community: Sons of Zadok – Priests – Congregation’, in Geschichte – Tradition – Reflexion (Fs. Martin Hengel; ed. H. Cancik, H. Lichtenberger and P. Schäfer; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996), 1.375–84. ——, ‘Preliminary Remarks on Unpublished Fragments of the Community Rule from Qumran Cave 4’, JJS 42 (1991), pp. 250–5. ——, ‘Qumran Forum Miscellanea I’, JJS 43 (1992), pp. 300–1. ——, ‘Redemption and Genesis xxii’, in Scripture and Tradition in Judaism (Leiden: Brill, 1961), pp. 193–227. Violet, B., Die Apokalypsen des Esra und des Baruch in deutscher Gestalt (GCS, 32; Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1924). Viteau, Joseph, Les Psaumes de Salomon: Introduction, texte grec et traduction, avec les principales variantes de la version syriaque par François Martin (Paris: Letouzey et Ané, 1911). Vogels, Walter, ‘The God Who Creates Is the God Who Saves: The Book of Wisdom’s Reversal of the Biblical Pattern’, EgT 22 (1991), pp. 315–35. Wächter, Ludwig, ‘Astrologie und Schicksalsglaube im rabbinischen Judentum’, Kairos 11 (1969), pp. 181–200. Wadworth, M., ‘A New “Pseudo-Philo”’, JJS 29 (1978), pp. 186–91. Werline, Rodney A., Penitential Prayer in Second Temple Judaism: The Development of a Religious Institution (SBLEJL, 13; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998). ——, ‘Prayer, Politics, and Social Vision in Daniel 9’, in Seeking the Favor of God, Volume 2: The Development of Penitential Prayer in Second Temple Judaism (eds M. J. Boda, D. K. Falk and W. J. Werline; SBLEJL, 22.2; Atlanta: SBL, 2006), pp. 17–32. ——, ‘The Psalms of Solomon and the Ideology of Rule’, in Conflicted Boundaries in Wisdom and Apocalypticism (eds Benjamin G. Wright III and Lawrence M. Wills; Atlanta: SBL, 2005), pp. 69–87. Wernberg-Møller, P., ‘Waw and Yod in the “Rule of the Community” (1QS)’, RevQ (1960), pp. 223–36. Werrett, Ian, ‘The Reconstruction of 4QMMT: A Methodological Critique’, in Northern Lights on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Proceedings of the Nordic Qumran Network 2003-2006 (eds A. K. Petersen, T. Elgvin, C. Wassen, H. von Weissenberg, M. Winninge and M. Ehrensvärd; STDJ, 80; Leiden: Brill, 2009), pp. 205–16. ——, Ritual Purity and the Dead Sea Scrolls (STDJ, 72; Leiden: Brill, 2007). Westermann, Claus, Praise and Lament in the Psalms (Atlanta: John Knox, 5th edn, 1981). ——, Prophetic Oracles of Salvation in the Old Testament (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1991). ——, Prophetische Heilsworte im Alten Testament (FRLANT, 145; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1987). White, Sidnie Ann, ‘In the Steps of Jael and Deborah: Judith as Heroine’, in No one Spoke Ill of Her: Essays on Judith (ed. J. C. VanderKam; SBLEJL, 2; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992), pp. 5–16. Whitters, Mark F., The Epistle of Second Baruch: A Study in Form and Message (JSPSup, 42; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003). Wieder, Naphtali, ‘The Habakkuk Scroll and the Targum’, JJS 4 (1953), pp. 14–18.



Bibliography

335

Willitts, Joel, ‘The Remnant of Israel in 4QpIsaiaha (4Q161) and the Dead Sea Scrolls’, JJS 57 (2006), pp. 11–25. Wills, L. M., The Jew in the Court of the Foreign King: Ancient Jewish Court Legends (HDR, 26; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990). Winninge, Mikael, Sinners and the Righteous: A Comparative Study of the Psalms of Solomon and Paul’s Letters (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1995). Winston, David, ‘A Century of Research on the Book of Wisdom’, in The Book of Wisdom in Modern Research: Studies on Tradition, Redaction, and Theology (eds Angelo Passaro and Giuseppe Bellia; Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature Yearbook 2005; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2005), pp. 1–18. ——, ‘Philo’s Ethical Theory’, ANRW 21.1 (1984), pp. 372–416. ——, Philo of Alexandria: The Contemplative Life, The Giants, and Selections (Classics of Western Spirituality; Mahwah, NJ: Paulist, 1981). ——, ‘Sage and Super-sage in Philo of Alexandria’, in The Ancestral Philosophy: Hellenistic Philosophy in Second Temple Judaism (ed. G. Sterling; BJS, 331; Studia Philonica Monographs, 4; Providence: Brown University Press, 2001), pp. 171–80. ——, The Wisdom of Solomon (AB, 43; New York: Doubleday, 1979). Wise, Michael O., ‘4QFlorilegium and the Temple of Adam’, RevQ 15 (1991), pp. 103–32. Wise, Michael O., Martin G. Abegg, Jr, and Edward M. Cook, The Dead Sea Scrolls: A New Translation (New York: HarperCollins, 2nd edn, 2005). Wright, Addison, ‘The Structure of Wisdom 11–19’, CBQ 27 (1965), pp. 28–34. Wright, N. T. ‘Paul and Qumran’, BRev 14.5 (1998), pp. 18–54. Wright, Robert B., The Psalms of Solomon: A Critical Edition of the Greek Text (JCTCRS, 1; New York: T&T Clark, 2007). ——, ‘The Psalms of Solomon (First Century B.C.): A New Translation and Introduction’, in OTP 2.639–70. ——, ‘The Psalms of Solomon, the Pharisees and the Essenes’, in 1972 Proceedings for the International Organization for Septuagint and Cognate Studies and the Society of Biblical Literature Pseudepigrapha Seminar (ed. Robert A. Kraft; SBLSCS, 2; Missoula, MT: SBL, 1972), pp. 136–54. Yardeni, Ada, ‘Breaking the Missing Link’, BAR 24 (1998), pp. 44–7. Yeung, Maureen W., Faith in Paul and Jesus (WUNT, 2.147; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002). Yonge, C. D. (trans.), The Works of Philo Judaeus, the Contemporary of Josephus (4 vols; London: Henry G. Bohn, 1854–55; Repr. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2006). York, A. D., ‘The Dating of Targumic Literature’, JSJ 5 (1974), pp. 49–62. ——, ‘The Targum in the Synagogue and the School’, JSJ 10 (1979), pp. 74–86. Zenger, Erich, Das Buch Judit (eds W. G. Kümmel and H. Lictenberger; JSHRZ, 1.6; Gutersloh: Gutersloher Verlagshaus, 1981). ——, ‘Der Juditroman als Traditionsmodell des Jahwesglauben’, TTZ 83 (1974), pp. 65–80. Zenger, Erich, with P. Weimar, Exodus, Geschichte und Geschichte der Befreiung Israel’s (SBS, 75; Stuttgart, 1975).

Index of References APOCRYPHA AND SEPTUAGINT Bel and the Dragon 40 76n. 16 Susanna 42-43 76 62 76 Judith 313 1–7 16 1.1 18 1.1–2.13 16 1.12 21 2.12 18, 28 2.14–3.10 16 3.8 17, 19 4.1-15 16 4.2 19 4.3 18, 19 4.6-7 25 4.8-12 25 4.12 17, 20, 21 4.13 23, 24, 25, 26, 29n. 32 4.14 25 4.14-15 25 4.15 20 5 23 5.1–6.21 16 5.3 18 5.5 18 5.5-16 25 5.7-14 26 5.9 20 5.13 23 5.13-14 18 5.17 20, 22, 25, 27, 29 5.17-19 26 5.17-21 24 5.18 19, 26 5.19 25 5.21 19, 20, 22, 25 5.22–6.13 22

5.23 24 6.2 19, 20 6.18-21 25 6.20-21 22 7.1-32 16 7.4-5 24 7.8 18 7.18 18 7.19 20, 25 7.19-29 24 7.19-32 300 7.28 26 7.29 25 7.30 25 7.30-31 20, 27, 29, 30 8–16 16 8.1-8 20, 27 8.1-36 16 8.4-8 25, 28 8.9-17 300 8.11-27 20 8.12-14 25 8.12-16 27 8.13 24 8.14-16 24 8.15 24, 27, 30 8.15-17 25, 27, 29 8.17 20, 25, 28, 300 8.18 25 8.18-19 19 8.18-20 26, 29 8.19 26 8.19-20 24 8.20 25, 27 8.21 19 8.21-22 20 8.21-25 20 8.22 20, 21 8.25-27 26 8.27 26 8.29 27 8.31 18, 25 8.32-33 28 8.33 18, 28 8.35 20, 29

9.1-14 16 9.1–10.3 25 9.1 27 9.2 28 9.2-4 20, 25 9.2-14 20 9.5-6 24, 300 9.7 24 9.7-10 20 9.8 19 9.9 21, 28, 29 9.9-10 18, 28 9.10 28 9.11 24, 29, 29n. 32 9.12 25, 26, 29n. 32 9.13 19, 21 9.14 21, 24 10.1-3 27 10.1–11.23 16 10.8 19, 21, 25, 29, 29n. 32 10.15 21 11.6 15, 21 11.9-10 22 11.10 25, 27, 29 11.10-15 20 11.11-15 26 11.16 15, 21, 29 11.19 15 12.1–15.7 17 12.4 15, 18, 28 12.11-12 21 12.14 15 12.18 15, 21 13.4 18, 19 13.5 20, 21, 25, 26, 29, 29n. 32 13.7 21 13.11 24 13.11-14 25 13.14 20, 25, 28 13.14-15 18 13.15 28 13.16 21 13.18 21, 29

338 13.19 24 13.20 21 14.6-10 22 14.10 25 14.11–15.7 17 14.18 18 15.8–16.25 17 15.10 18, 24, 28 15.11-14 21 16 27, 28n. 27 16.1-17 20, 29, 29n. 32 16.2 21, 24 16.3 18 16.4 20, 21 16.5 18, 24, 28 16.5-6 28 16.10 18 16.13-14 24 16.13-17 26 16.15 25 16.17 20, 21, 24, 26 16.19-22 27 16.19-25 20 1 Maccabees 1.11-15 242 1.20-64 17 1.21-24 19 1.52-63 242 2.51-60 308 2.52 57, 308 3.6 312 4.10 30 4.11 21 4.30 312 4.36-61 73n. 7 5.62 312 7.43-50 17 16.18-22 308 2 Maccabees 313 2.5 124 3.1–6.17 312 6–7 312 6.18–7.42 312 6.23 242 7 314 8.1 242 8.1-7 312 10.1-8 73n. 7 15.21 119n. 26 15.35 27 Psalms (Apocryphal) 154 243

Index of References Sirach 182, 314 15.11-20 54 24 178n. 30 44–50 308 44.19-21 57 44.20 58, 308 47.22 239n. 34 51.26 124n. 48 Tobit 313, 314 3.6 311 4.10 313 14.5 118 14.5-6 124 Wisdom 1–6 182, 313 1.1 182 1.1-15 183 1.1–6.11 183 1.7 186 1.12 183 1.13 183 1.16 183 1.16–2.24 183 2.1-20 183, 185 2.18 184 2.23 183 3.1 184 3.1-13 184 3.7 184 3.10-12 184 3.13-19 184 3.13–4.15 184 4.1-5 184 4.6-9 184 4.16–5.14 185 4.20–5.8 125n. 56 5.6 185 5.15 185 6 182 6.1-11 185 6.12-21 186 6–7 178n. 30 6–9 187, 190 6.12-25 185 6.12–9.18 185 6.17-20 186 6.21 185 6.22 186 7–9 182 7.1-6 186 7.1-22 186, 187 7.7 186 7.22-24 186 7.22–8.1 186

8.2-16 186 8.17–9.18 187 9.1-18 187 9.4-9 187 9.8 123n. 45 9.10-12 187 9.13-18 187 9.15 187 9.18 187 10 182, 187, 190 10.1-21 187 10.1–19.22 187 11–19 182, 187 11.1-14 188, 189 11.5 188 11.15–12.27 188 11.16 188 12.3-18 189 12.10 189 12.19-22 189 12.22 189 12.23-27 189 12.24 189 13–15 188, 189 14.27 189 15.11 189 16 189 16.1-4 189 16.1–19.22 188 16.3 189 16.5-14 189 16.7 190 16.12 190 16.15-29 190 16.26 190 17.1–18.4 190 18.5-25 190 19.1-22 190 Old Testament Pseudepigrapha 1 Enoch 218, 310, 313, 314 1–36 211 1–71 306 10.4-7 94 10.16 204n. 48 10.21-22 314 22–25 314 22.3 162n. 80 22.9-10 162n. 80 25.4-6 312 25.4-7 162n. 80 37–71 314 45.4-5 118

45.4-6 312 47.8 124n. 50 50.2-3 314 51.1 123 51.2 119n. 22 51.4-5 310 53.2 124n. 51 56.1-4 124n. 51 60.6 124n. 51 62–63 125n. 56 62.13-16 122n. 39 69.27 124n. 51 72–82 217 85–90 86n. 48 89.73 124 89.74 124 90.3-10 124n. 51 90.20 120n. 30 90.26-29 120n. 28 90.37-38 314 91.10 160n. 80 92.3 160n. 80 93.5 204n. 48 93.10 204n. 48 100.5 123n. 43, 162n. 80 100.6 314 100.9 120n. 28 102.1-3 124n. 51 102.4 122n. 38 104 314 104.1-4 312 104.2 122n. 40 104.4 122n. 39 2 Enoch 313, 314 4 136 4.2 136 5–6 133, 136, 137 7 136 7–8 137 7–10 136 8 134 8.2 134 8.3 134 8.8 134 9 134, 135 10 135 10.2 136 10.4 135 10.4-6 135 10.6 137 11–16 133 11–17 136 15.1 142n. 61 18 136 18.1-9 131

339

Index of References 18.3 137 22 140 22.11 133n. 35 24–32 133 24.1-5 136 25 135 25.1–26.3 136 27.3–28.1 136 28.2-4 136 29.4-6 137 30 130n. 20 30.1-2 137 30.4-7 137 30.8 137 30.9–31.2 137 31.3–33.2 137 32.1-2 135n. 41 34 131n. 24 34–35 139 34.3 139 35.1-3 133 40.2-5 136 41.1–42.5 136 42 135 42–65 135 42.14 136 43.1 133, 134 44 136 44.1 136 44.1-4 137 45.1 138 45.3 138 47.2-6 136 48.1-4 136 48.5 136 49.1-3 136 49.2 135 49.3 138 49.5-9 133 50.1-2 136 51.4 130n. 16, 131n. 24 51.5 136 52.5-6 136, 137 52.9-10 132 52.15 135 53.1 140 53.2 139 58.1-6 136, 137 58.6 136 59 130n. 17 59.1-5 137 60.1 138 60.1-4 137 61 138 61.2 136 61.4-5 139

64.5 139, 141 62 138 62.2 139 64.5 134 65 135, 138 65.1-5 137 65.1-11 136 65.3-4 136 65.6 138 65.7 138 65.8 135, 136, 138 65.9 138n. 48 65.9-10 138n. 49 65.10 140 66.4 136 66.7 122n. 40 68.3 130n. 19 2 Baruch 310, 314 1–77 115 3.3 122 3.5 121n. 32 4.1 121 4.1-6 115 4.2 115, 123 4.2-6 303 4.3 123 4.4 123 4.5 123 4.6 123 5.3 121 5.5 116n. 13 6.7 124 6.8 124 7.1-2 118 8.2 118 10.3 116 10.19 124 11.1–13.2 115n. 9 11.4 122 12–14 115 13.3 117 13.11–14.3 115n. 9 14.1 116n. 13 14.7 125 14.10-11 122 14.12-13 122 14.13 117 15.5 125 15.7 122n. 38 15.8 115, 121, 122n. 38 20.1-2 116 20.4 121n. 31 20.6 116 21.3 123n. 43 21.9 125

340 21.13 122 21.17 116 21.20 116 21.23 123 21.24 122, 122n. 36 21.25 117 23.3 122 23.7 119 24–30 303 24.1 120, 125 24.3 119 24.4 116 25.1 117 25.3 117 25.4 117 26.1 117 27.1-13 117 27.14-15 116 27.15 117 29.1 118 29.2 118 29.4 118, 122 29.5-7 122 29.8 122 30.1 119, 120 30.1-2 122n. 37 30.2 123n. 43 30.2-3 120 30.3 120 30.4 120 30.5 120 31.2–32.6 115 31.4 123n. 47 31.5 118 32.1 118 32.2 123 32.3 118 32.4 123 32.5 123n. 47 32.6 116, 118 33.2 123n. 47 33.3 123n. 47 35.1 123n. 47 36.1-10 118 36.9 118 36.10 118 37.1 118 38.1-4 118 39.3 118 39.4 118n. 20 39.5 118n. 20 39.7 118 40–51 303 40.2 118 40.3 118 41.1 124

Index of References 41.3 124 41.4 124 41.5-6 124 41.6 125n. 57 42 125n. 57 42.2 124 42.3 124 42.4 125 44.2 122 44.3 125 44.7 119, 119n. 25 44.8 119 44.9 120 44.11 120 44.12 116, 120, 121 44.12-13 120 44.13 122n. 38 44.14 120 44.15 67, 120, 121, 122n. 38 46.5-6 119n. 23 46.6 119n. 24, 121 48.12 122 48.19 125 48.22 125 48.24 125 48.33-34 116n. 10 48.33-37 116 48.36 116n. 10 48.39 67 48.40 125 48.42-43 125 48.43 67, 120n. 28 48.47 125 48.48-50 126 48.49 126 48.50 121, 122 49–51 314 49.5 116 50.2 123 50.4 123 51.1-2 123n. 44 51.3 122n. 38, 125, 126 51.4 125 51.4-6 125n. 56 51.5 126 51.7 125, 126 51.8 126 51.9 122 51.10 122 51.11 122, 123n. 45 51.14 117, 122 51.16 125 52.5 126 52.6 126 52.7 126

54.1 116n. 13 54.5 124n. 50 54.14 125 54.16 121 54.16-18 126 54.17 116, 121, 125 54.21 121, 124n. 50 54.22 121 55.7-8 125 56.5 125 56.6 125 57.2 122 59.2 120n. 28, 121, 124n. 50 59.4 119 59.8 119, 123n. 45 59.9 119 59.10 119 59.11 119 63.4 121 63.9 117, 121 64.7 120n. 28 66.6 121 66.7 121 67.5 117 68.2 118 68.3 120 68.5 124 68.6 123 69.4 116 70.2-10 125 70.10 125 71.1 118n. 19 72–74 303 72.1 120 72.1-6 119 73.2 122 73.3 122 73.4-5 122 73.6 122 73.7 122 74.1 122 74.2 122 74.3 123 75.5 126 75.6 126 77.6 125 77.12 119n. 24 77.13-16 310 78–87 115, 116 78.5 118 78.6 118 78.7 118 80.2 124 81.1 119, 119n. 24, 119n. 25

81.4 119, 119n. 24 81.5 119 82.1 119n. 25 82.2 116, 119n. 22, 120 83.1 116, 116n. 13 83.2 121 83.3 121 83.5 117 83.6 116 83.7 116, 121 83.23 116 84.2 119n. 23 84.6 121 85.4 119n. 23 85.8 119 85.12 116 85.13 120n. 28 3 Maccabees 313 1.1-6 32 1.1–2.24 33 1.1–6.21 36 1.8 41n. 24 1.11-29 37 1.12 41 1.15 41 1.16 37 1.21 37 1.22-23 41 1.24 37 1.25 41 1.25-27 41 1.26 41 1.27 37, 41 2.1-20 37 2.2 41, 42 2.3 41, 42 2.4-9 36n. 17 2.6 41 2.7 37 2.9 43 2.10 41, 44 2.11 42 2.12 36n. 15, 44 2.13 36, 36n. 15, 41, 43 2.16 41, 43, 44 2.20 37 2.21 42 2.21-24 37 2.22 36, 36n. 15 2.25–7.23 33 2.27 39 2.28 39, 41n. 24 2.28-29 39 2.29 42 2.29-30 49

341

Index of References 2.31 44 2.32 36n. 15 2.33 36n. 15, 41 3.1 41 3.2-9 47 3.3 41, 41n. 24 3.4 6, 44 3.6-7 41 3.8 36n. 15 3.8-10 43, 47 3.10 41 3.11 42 3.24-26 39 3.27 41n. 24 4.1 43 4.2 41n. 24 4.2-4 41 4.4 43 4.9-10 39 4.12-16 37 4.13 41 4.14 39 4.16 36, 36n. 15, 42, 43 4.17 41n. 24 4.17-21 37 4.21 36n. 15, 41n. 24 5.1 41 5.1-7 37 5.2 41n. 24 5.3 41n. 24 5.5-8 41 5.6 41n. 24, 43 5.7 42 5.7-9 37 5.8 36n. 15, 37 5.10 37 5.11-12 37 5.13 41, 41n. 24, 43 5.18 41n. 24 5.18-24 37 5.20 41, 41n. 24, 42, 44 5.25 36n. 15, 37, 41 5.26-35 37 5.30 41 5.31 39 5.35 36n. 15, 41n. 24, 42 5.37-49 37 5.42 41, 41n. 24, 42, 44 5.47 41, 42 5.48 41n. 24 5.48-51 41 5.49-51 41 5.50 36n. 15 5.50-51 37 6.1-16 37 6.2 42

6.3 44, 47 6.4 37, 41 6.5 37, 38 6.6 32, 36n. 15, 37 6.7 37 6.8 37 6.8-9 43n. 27 6.9 41, 42, 43 6.10 36n. 15, 37, 43 6.11 36n. 15, 44 6.12 41, 42 6.13 36, 36n. 15, 42, 43, 44 6.15 43, 43n. 27, 47 6.16 41 6.17 41n. 24 6.18 34, 41n. 24, 42 6.18-22 37 6.19 43 6.20 41 6.22 37 6.22–7.23 35, 36, 39 6.25 39 6.25-26 41 6.26 39 6.27 43 6.28 39 6.29 36, 36n. 15, 39 6.30 36n. 15 6.31 36n. 15, 41 6.32 36n. 15 6.33 36n. 15, 44 6.36 36n. 15, 39 6.39 36n. 15 6.41 39 7.6 41n. 24, 42, 44 7.7 39, 41 7.8 39 7.9 43, 44 7.10 41n. 24 7.11 44 7.12 39 7.13 39 7.16 36, 36n. 15, 41, 42 7.18 36n. 15, 39 7.20 39, 39 7.22 36n. 15, 42 7.23 36, 36n. 15 7.22-23 35 4 Maccabees 313 12.12 120n. 28 4 Ezra 243, 244n. 52, 310, 313, 314 3.2 101

342 3.4-6 101 3.8 104 3.20-22 101, 104 3.22 103 3.25-26 101 3.28-36 102 3.33 101 3.36 102, 111 4.1-25 101 4.12-19 118 4.22-25 101 4.23 101 4.27 104 4.31 123n. 43 4.34 110n. 30 4.34-37 101 4.35 123n. 43, 125 4.36-43 104 5.1-7 101 5.1-13 106 5.6-7 106n. 19 5.21-30 101 5.29 101, 102 5.34-40 101 5.41-42 109n. 27 5.44 101 5.48-49 101 5.49 104 5.55 103 6.1-6 104, 104n. 15 6.5 108, 110 6.11-28 106 6.18-20 106n. 22 6.20 120n. 30 6.25 106n. 21, 106n. 22, 109 6.26 106 6.26-28 106n. 19 6.27 124n. 50 6.28 106n. 22 6.29 124n. 50 6.33-34 101 6.35 109n. 26 6.38-54 101 6.49-52 118, 122 6.55-59 104, 117 6.57 101 7.6 107 7.10-11 104 7.10-14 101 7.11 104 7.11-12 103 7.12 103 7.12-14 103 7.13-14 104 7.16 101

Index of References 7.19 101 7.19-25 101 7.20-22 244 7.21 111 7.22 111 7.23 111 7.24 111, 253n. 91 7.26 106, 107n. 24 7.26-28 101, 107 7.26-31 107 7.26-44 105, 106, 106n. 23, 107 7.27 109 7.28 106n. 21, 279 7.29 105, 120 7.30-31 106n. 22 7.32 122n. 36, 123, 123n. 43 7.36 120n. 27 7.37 111 7.45 108 7.48 103 7.50 104n. 15 7.60 109, 113 7.68 103 7.70 104, 104n. 15 7.70-74 101 7.72 111 7.76-101 106 7.77 109, 110, 120n. 29, 125, 253n. 91 7.79-87 111 7.80 123n. 43 7.82 113 7.83 109 7.88 106, 109 7.89 103, 108, 109, 110 7.92 103, 109, 111 7.93 124n. 51 7.94 109, 110 7.95 123n. 43 7.96 103 7.97 122n. 40 7.98 109 7.101 123n. 43 7.104-15 244 7.105 113 7.112-15 113 7.116 104 7.116-26 103 7.118 103 7.122 109 7.123 123n. 45 7.125 109, 122n. 40 7.127-28 103 7.127-31 101, 244

7.129 111 7.133 124n. 49 8.1 104n. 15 8.4-19 102n. 11 8.8-14 112 8.11-12 112 8.15 101 8.26-30 102 8.27 102 8.32 253n. 91 8.35 103 8.36 102 8.37 102 8.37-39 244 8.38 102 8.40 112 8.45 101 8.51-55 101 8.52 107, 123n. 45 8.52-53 107 8.53 123n. 45 8.56-60 101, 111 8.60 111 8.63–9.4 106 8.83 121 9.7 109 9.7-8 124n. 50 9.7-12 106n. 23 9.8 101, 106, 109 9.9 106n. 23 9.9-12 101, 106n. 19, 111, 124n. 51 9.10 111 9.11 113 9.12 106 9.13 101 9.19 111 9.20 103 9.21-22 112 10.19-24 101n. 10 10.24 101n. 10 10.27 107 10.42 107 10.44 107 10.44-59 123n. 45 10.54 107 11.44 118 11.46 113 12.11 303 12.32 107, 118 12.34 106, 109 12.38 108 12.46-47 113 13.23 109 13.26 107 13.37 118

13.39-50 107 13.41-42 109 13.48 109 13.52 107 13.54-55 109n. 26 14.10 103 14.13-15 103 14.16-18 103 14.19-26 110 14.33 106 14.34 99 14.34-35 106 14.45 110 14.47 120n. 29 Apocalypse of Abraham 314 1.7 90n. 15 5.2 90n. 15 8.2 90n. 15 9 89 9–12 95 9.2 90n. 15 10 89 10.12-13 89 10.13-14 94 10.23-24 89n. 14 11.4 90n. 15 12.7 90n. 15 13 91, 92 13.4 93 13.4-6 91 13.5 93n. 25 13.7-8 91 13.10 89n. 11, 91 14.1 90n. 15 14.3 88 14.6-7 89 14.9 90n. 15 15 90 19 90 19.2 90n. 15 19.9 96 20.2 90n. 15 20.7 88 21–23 91 21.8–23.14 91 22 96 22.5 89 23 91n. 21 23.14 92n. 21 25.1 89n. 14 26.3-5 89n. 14 27 94 27.3-6 87 27.10–28.5 88 31.6 89

343

Index of References Jubilees 308 1.1–2.1 215 1.4 217 1.22-23 119n. 23 1.26 215, 217 3.10 84n. 41 3.31 84n. 41 4.5 84n. 41 5.17 119n. 23 6.17-20 223 6.22 217 6.35-38 217 6.36 218 11.2 211 11.11 221 11.11-24 221 11.13 221 11.16 221 11.16-17 222 11.17 221 11.18 221 11.19 221 11.20 221 11.21 221 11.23 221 11.24 221 12 222 12.1-20 302 12.9-14 222 12.19-20 222 12.25-27 225 13.4 225 14.1-6 218 15.1 223 15.1-2 225 15.3-14 222 15.15 219 15.26-34 223 15.31 223 16.12-14 218 16.20-31 225 16.26 204n. 48 17.15 224, 227 17.15-18 211, 218, 219, 227 17.15–18.9 224 17.15–18.12 302 17.16 224, 225 17.17-18 224, 224n. 37 17.18 224, 227 17.19 218 18.9 219, 225 18.11 219 18.12 225 18.13 225 18.15 225

18.16 224 18.18 219 18.18-19 225 19.8-9 224n. 37 20.4 214 21.1-26 227 21.5-20 227 21.22 227 21.24 204n. 48 21.24-25 227 22.9 227 22.10-30 227 22.15 227 22.16-23 227 22.20-22 214 22.23 227 22.24 227 22.27-30 227 23 217, 223 23.9-10 227 23.10 57, 224, 228 23.26 119n. 23 23.26-29 217 25.5-10 214 27.8-10 214 30.7-16 214 36.6 204n. 48 48 218 48.1-19 226n. 43 48.2-4 225 48.9 219 48.9-11 225 48.12 219 48.12-18 225 48.13 225 48.15 219 49 218 49.1-23 225 50.13 217 Liber anituitatum biblicarum 313 3.3 60 3.4 60 3.6 60 3.10 52, 52n. 11, 59, 122n. 36, 123 4.11 52n. 10, 57, 58 6.9 57 6.11 57, 58 7.4 52n. 10, 58, 118n. 19 8.1-3 58 9.4 52n. 10 9.5 53, 60n. 35 9.7 52n. 10

344 10.2 52n. 10 11.6 122n. 36 11.15 123n. 46 13.10 52n. 10, 54n. 18, 55, 60n. 36 16.1-7 53 16.3 52n. 11, 53, 67 18.5 58n. 30 18.10 52n. 10, 59 18.13-14 53, 60n. 35 19 56 19.2 52n. 10, 56 19.2-5 54n. 18, 60n. 36 19.10 123n. 46 19.11 56 19.12 66, 122n. 36 19.12-13 52-53, 52n. 11 21.6 54n. 18, 60n. 36 23.1 58 23.2 58 23.4 58 23.5 57 23.6 53 23.9-10 59 23.12 67 23.13 52n. 11, 58, 66 25–26 58 25–48 60 25.3 59 25.3-6 59 25.7 52, 54n. 18, 59, 60n. 36, 67 25.7-10 53 25.8-10 67 25.9-10 59 25.9-13 60n. 35 26.5 59 26.13 52n. 11 27.7 58n. 29 30.1 63 30.2 63 30.3-4 63 30.4 59 30.5 63 30.7 52n. 10, 63 31.1-2 63 31.2 63 31.7 52n. 11, 53 32 63 32.4 58n. 30 32.7-8 53 32.11-12 64 32.13 123n. 43 32.14 64 32.17 53 33.2 54n. 18, 60n. 36

Index of References 33.5 54n. 18, 60n. 36, 122n. 40 34.1-5 60n. 35 34.4 67 35.3 52n. 10, 64, 122n. 36 35.4 65 38.1-4 53, 60n. 35, 67 38.4 53, 67, 120n. 28 39.1-3 65 39.4 65, 66 39.6 66 39.8-9 50n. 4 43.5 53 43.7 53 49.3 52n. 10 49.5 58n. 29 51.5 52n. 11, 53, 122n. 36 63.4 120n. 28 63.6 52n. 11 64.7 52n. 11, 60 Sibylline Oracles 1.172 158n. 61 2.65-75 158n. 61 2.255-60 158n. 61 3.310 118 4.30-35 158n. 61 4.182 123 Psalms of Solomon 313, 314 1 150 1–6 306 1.5-6 158 1.7-8 158 2 147, 149, 150 2.1-2 154 2.2 159 2.2-10 154 2.3 158 2.5 154 2.11 158 2.13 158 2.15-21 154 2.19-25 159 2.22 154 2.24-35 118 2.31 161 2.32-35 154 2.33-37 150 2.34 161 2.34-36 149n. 17 2.36 149n. 17 3 150, 158, 159, 163, 313 3.3 152, 154

3.3-7 149n. 17 3.4 155 3.6-8 153, 159, 162 3.7 153 3.8 149n. 17, 160 3.11 149n. 17 3.12 161 4 149, 150 4.1 149n. 17, 154 4.2-8 154 4.3-5 158 4.6 149n. 17 4.8 149n. 17, 154, 158 4.9-12 158 4.20 158 5 149, 150, 157, 158 5.2 149n. 17 5.4 155 5.6 153 5.8 154 5.11 149n. 17 5.18 154 5.34 156 6 149, 150, 158 7 150 7.1-3 154, 159 7.3 155 7.8 151, 154, 162 7.8-10 153 7.9 155 7.10 154 8 147, 149, 150, 158 8.7 154 8.8 154 8.8-13 158 8.10-12 158 8.11 158 8.16-17 159 8.18-22 154 8.23 149n. 17, 159 8.23-26 154 8.26 154, 155 8.29 155 8.30-32 154 8.32 154 8.34 149n. 17 8.40 154 9 149, 150, 151, 156, 157, 158 9.1-2 152, 153, 154 9.2 151, 153, 154 9.3 149n. 17 9.4 156, 157 9.4-5 156 9.5 154, 155, 156 9.6 155

9.6-7 153, 156, 158 9.6-11 155 9.7 149n. 17 9.8-11 151, 153, 154, 162 9.9-11 151 10 148, 150, 158 10.1 153 10.1-2 154, 155, 162 10.1-3 154 10.1-4 155 10.2-4 155 10.3 149n. 17 10.4 161 10.5 149n. 17 10.6 149n. 17 11 150, 158, 161, 313 11.6 161 11.7 151, 154, 162 11.7-11 153 12 149, 150 12.1-4 158 12.1-6 154 12.4 149n. 17 12.6 149n. 17, 154 13 150 13.1-4 149, 154, 163 13.6-10 149n. 17 13.7 153, 155 13.8-12 155 13.10 149n. 17, 153, 155, 162 13.11 149n. 17, 153, 161 13.12 149n. 17 14 148, 149, 150, 158, 162, 163 14.1-3 158, 162 14.2-5 153 14.3 149n. 17 14.5 151, 154, 162 14.9 162 14.10 149n. 17, 162 15 148, 149, 150, 162, 163 15.1 149n. 17, 154 15.3 149n. 17 15.4-13 154 15.6-7 149n. 17 15.6-9 162 15.7 149n. 17 15.10 162 15.12 161 15.12-13 162 16 148, 149, 149n. 17, 150, 156n. 47, 158 16.4 155 16.11 153

345

Index of References 16.11-15 155 16.15 149n. 17, 155 17 147, 148, 149, 150, 160, 161, 305, 310, 313, 314 17.4 153, 154, 162 17.4-6 154 17.5 151, 153 17.6 158 17.8 154 17.11-18 154 17.13 158 17.13-15 159 17.16 149, 149n. 17 17.19-20 154 17.21 147, 154 17.22 160 17.23 119 17.26-29 161 17.28 161 17.29 148 17.30 305 17.32 160 17.36 160 17.37 160 17.43-46 161 18 161 18.3 154 18 150 18.2 149n. 17 18.4 161 18.4-9 155 18.5 154 18.9 148 Testament of Gad 3.1 247n. 63 Testament of Judah 25.1 162n. 80 26.1 119n. 23 Testament of Levi 5.1-7 123n. 45 18.11 162n. 80 Testament of Moses 5.4-6 158n. 61 Testament of Simeon 6.7 162n. 80 Testament of Zebulun 10.2 162n. 80 10.3 120n. 28

ATHENAEUS Deipnosophistae (Deipn.) 246c 32 CYPRIAN Testimoniorum adversus Judæos (Test.) 3.29 116n. 10 DIOGENES LAERTIUS Lives 7.134 178n. 32 DISCOVERIES IN THE JUDAEAN DESERT CD (Damascus Document) 198, 219n. 29, 220, 223, 227, 230, 231, 234, 237, 239, 242, 243, 252n. 88, 258, 308 1.1-4 236 1.2-8 239n. 37 1.4 238 1.7 242 2.2-13 55 2.4 267n. 65 2.4-5 243 2.6 241n. 42 2.7-11 244 2.11-12 241 2.12-14 238 2.14–3.12 226 2.17-19 211 2.25 242 3.1 211 3.2 57, 58, 227 3.2-3 211 3.2-4 226, 227, 308 3.3 227 3.3-4 227 3.4 227 3.8 242 3.12-16 227 3.13-14 241 3.18 247n. 65 4.2 240 4.3-4 201n. 36 4.4-10 213 4.6-7 247n. 65 4.6-8 226 4.12–6.2 222 4.15-18 158

346 5.6 242 5.13-14 242 5.18-19 225 5.22 242 6.4-5 240 6.5 238n. 33 6.19 238n. 33 7.11-14 206n. 55 7.14 204n. 47 7.15 238n. 33 7.18 238n. 33 7.21–8.1 204n. 47 8.1-2 243n. 49 8.16 240 8.19 243n. 49 8.21 238n. 33 9.13 249n. 71 10.7-10 217n. 21 11.17-21 249n. 71 12.22 240 12.23–13.1 209 14.19 247n. 66 15.15-16 242 15.17 260n. 115 15.18 242 16.1-2 236 16.1-5 216 16.1-6 223 16.4-5 217 16.6 223, 308 16.13-14 249n. 71 19.9-10 204n. 47 19.13-14 243n. 49 19.33 238n. 33 19.33–20.10 153n. 38 20.6-8 (B) 213 20.12 237n. 27, 238n. 33, 239 20.17-34 237 20.19-21 245n. 57 20.25-27 206n. 55 20.34 247n. 65 1QH (Hymns/Hodayot) 55, 230, 230n. 5, 232, 234, 237, 240n. 40 1.8 244 1.19-20 244 2.21-22 237n. 27 2.28-29 237n. 27 4.17 245 4(=17).17-20 246 4(=17).18-22 242 5(=13).23 242 6(=14).13 244 6(=14).15 245n. 57

Index of References 6(=14).21 242 6(=14).23-25 242 6(=14).24 243 7(=15).16 245 7(=15).16-20 242, 246 9(=1).21-23 242 9.21-24 84n. 41 10.9 244 11.19-36 313 12(=4).7-20 237 12(=4).29 248 12.25-29 151 12(=4).29 242 12(=4).34-36 242 12(=4).37 242, 246, 247 13(=5).5-13 242 13(=5).17-39 237 14(=6).8 238n. 32 14(=6).13 260n. 115 14(=6).32 241n. 42 15.13-19 244 15(=7).16-19 242 15(=7).17 246n. 60 15.24-25 151 15(=7).30 247 15(=7).34 237 17(=9).14 245 19(=11).7 247n. 63 19(=11).30-32 245 25 v 1-13 247n. 62 25 v 13 243 1QM (War Scroll) 198, 209, 213, 230, 232, 237, 240n. 40, 259, 260 1 222 1.1-7 211 1.2 201n. 37, 240n. 40 1.6 241n. 42 1.8 246n. 61 2.1-2 240n. 40 2.3 249n. 71 3.14 240n. 40 3.15 240n. 40 4.2 241n. 42 4.6 246n. 61 5.1 240n. 40 6.11 240n. 40 7.8 209 7.11 249n. 71 10.9-10 236 10.11 260n. 115 11.4-11 209 12.1 201n. 36 12.13-14 236 13.7-9 236, 238, 240n. 39

13.11-12 253n. 92 14.5 241n. 42 14.8-9 238 17.7 209 17.7-8 245 17.8 236, 246n. 61 18.3 241n. 42 19.3-14 313 1QpHab (Habakkuk Pesher) 193, 195, 199, 200, 201, 201n. 37, 202, 204, 207, 208, 209, 230, 283 1.4 200 1.11 201 2.1-2 199, 200, 201 2.1-10 213, 220 2.2 208 2.2-3 200 2.3 238n. 33 2.3-4 199, 200, 206, 239 2.5 237n. 27 2.5-6 200 2.6 199n. 30, 201, 208 2.6-10 206 2.7 194 2.7-8 200 2.9-10 193 2.13 203n. 46 2.14 199n. 30 5.3-6 240n. 40 5.4 200, 201 5.5 201 5.11-12 201 6.3-5 196n. 16, 202 6.3-6 283 6.8-12 202 6.10 203n. 46 7.1-2 194 7.3-5 206 7.4-5 194, 200, 213, 220 7.7-8 194 7.10-11 200 7.11 253n. 91 7.13 194 7.14-16 208 7.17–8.3 207 8.1 200, 253n. 91 8.1-3 207, 208 8.8-12 240n. 41 9.9-12 240n. 41 9.12 200 10.13 201 11.1 210 12.3 203

12.4 206n. 56 12.4-5 200, 253n. 91 12.6 203 12.10 203 12.12–13.4 202 13.1 202 13.2-3 206n. 56 13.2-4 202 1QS (Community Rule) 198, 208, 209, 219n. 29, 230, 231, 233, 233n. 15, 235, 236, 241, 243, 245, 246n. 60, 249, 250, 251, 252, 252n. 88, 255, 257, 258, 259, 308, 309, 313 1.1 234 1.1-18 235 1.3 255n. 100 1.3-4 235 1.6-9 235 1.7 237 1.7-8 237n. 28 1.8 235 1.10 235 1.11-12 237n. 28 1.16 237, 237n. 28 1.16–3.12 222 1.17 255n. 100 1.18–2.18 235 1.20 235 1.21 245 1.22 238 2.8 247 2.12-18 243n. 50 2.18 235 2.19–3.12 235 2.22 237n. 28, 240 2.25–3.3 243 2.25–3.9 213, 220 2.26 237n. 27 3–4 308, 313, 314 3.3 232n. 10 3.3-4 249 3.3-6 256 3.3-9 249 3.4-9 243 3.6-8 247 3.10 255n. 100 3.11 255 3.11-12 240, 255n. 98 3.13 234n. 19, 236 3.13–4.14 211 3.13–4.26 222, 235 3.13–5.1 235

Index of References 3.15-16 235, 244 3.20 211 3.20-23 211 3.21-23 248 3.21–4.1 244 3.24 238 4.1 236 4.6-8 220 4.7 121n. 33, 236n. 23 4.12-13 220, 236n. 24 4.14 241n. 42 4.20 247n. 62 4.22 209, 255n. 98 5 208n. 64, 253 5–8 253 5–9 254n. 94, 257 5.1 253, 253n. 90, 255n. 100 5.1-6 213, 220 5.1–9.11 236 5.2 252, 254 5.2-3 253, 255 5.5 238, 255 5.5-6 248, 254, 255 5.6 241 5.6-7 255 5.7-8 240, 240n. 41 5.7-9 255 5.8 237 5.9 252, 254n. 93 5.10 255 5.11-13 199n. 28, 241, 255 5.13 249 5.13-16 256 5.14 243 5.18-20 202n. 42 5.21 253n. 91, 254n. 94 5.21-22 254n. 94 5.22 238, 254n. 93, 255n. 98, 255n. 100 6–9 257 6.13 238, 240 6.13-23 243 6.18 253n. 91 6.18-19 212 6.19 255n. 97 6.24 256n. 103 7–8 250 7.8 256n. 103 7.18-21 243n. 50 8 250 8–9 250 8.1-4 249n. 73 8.3-4 255 8.5 204, 241

347 8.5-6 248 8.6 201n. 36, 241, 257 8.9-10 255 8.10 241, 248, 255, 257 8.11 238 8.12 255 8.15 255n. 100 8.16 255 8.16-17 240 8.16-19 256n. 103 8.16-25 243n. 50 8.21 255n. 100 8.22 256n. 103 9 250 9.1 256n. 103 9.1-2 256n. 103 9.2-3 254n. 93 9.3 248 9.3-6 160, 248 9.5-7 254 9.10 245 9.11 209 9.12 234n. 19 9.12-26 257 9.12–11.22 236 9.14 201n. 36, 254n. 96 9.15 255n. 100 9.17 253n. 91 9.17-18 243 9.21 234n. 19 9.24 255n. 100 10–11 245 10.6–11.22 236 10.10 237, 237n. 27 10.11 246n. 60 10.20-21 243 10.23 245, 246n. 60 10.25 246n. 60 11 198, 257 11.2-3 246 11.3 247 11.5 246, 246n. 60 11.6 246n. 60 11.7 201n. 36 11.7-8 244 11.8 204 11.9 248 11.10-15 213 11.11 244 11.11-15 153n. 38 11.12 246, 246n. 60 11.13 237, 244 11.14 246n. 60, 247 11.15 246n. 60 11.16 201n. 36, 246n. 60 11.17-18 244

348 1Q14 (1QpMic) 195, 196n. 13, 206, 207, 208 7 231n. 6 8-10 5-9 206 8-10 6-9 213, 220 8-10 7-8 201 1Q16 (1QpPs) 195, 196n. 13 1Q17 (1QJuba) 214

Index of References 3Q5 (3QJub) 214

3-4 iv 5 202n. 40

4Q83 (4QpPsa) 231 1-10 158n. 61

4Q171 (4QpPsa) 195, 196n. 13, 199, 201n. 37, 202, 203, 209 1-10 i 26–1.10 ii 1 203n. 46 1-10 ii 1-4 202 1-10 ii 1-20 202 1-10 ii 4-8 202 1-10 ii 8-11 209 1-10 ii 9-12 202 1-10 ii 14-15 201, 202 1-10 ii 15 200 1-10 ii 18 202n. 40 1-10 ii 18-20 201, 203 1-10 iii 2-4 203n. 46 1-10 iii 5 200 1-10 iii 10 202 1-10 iii 10-11 209 1-10 iii 12 201, 202 1-10 iv 1 201, 202n. 40 1-10 iv 8-10 203 1-10 iv 12 200 1-10 iv 14 201 11 2 200

4Q88 (4QPsf) 8.3-4 243 4Q114 (4QDanc) 71n. 1 4Q116 (4QDane) 71n. 1, 78n. 22

1Q18 (1QJubb) 214 1Q27 (1QMyst) 1 i 5-7 245n. 57 1Q28a (1QSa) 209, 230, 233n. 15, 240n. 40, 252n. 88, 258n. 109 1.1-3 240n. 40, 258 1.2 252 1.6-9 240n. 40 1.8-9 242n. 46 1.23-25 258 1.24 252 2.2 258 1Q28b (1QSb) 230, 233n. 15, 252n. 87 3.22 252 3.22-25 258 4.3 121n. 33 1Q34 (1QLitPra, b) 3 ii 5 238n. 33, 239n. 37 3 ii 7 238n. 33, 239n. 37 1Q35 (1QHa) 6.15 201n. 36 8.26-30 213 10.13 201n. 36 10.32 203 12.30-34 213 13.22 203 14.15 204n. 48 14.19-26 222 16.10 204n. 48

4Q161 (4QpIsaa) 199, 199n. 27, 203, 204, 208 2-4 1-5 203 2-6 ii 5-7 240n. 39 2-6 ii 8-9 203n. 45 8-10 15-17 210n. 67 8-10 20 209 4Q161-65 (4QpIsaa-e) 195 4Q163 (4QpIsac) 196n. 13 4-6 ii 10-16 238n. 32 7+6 ii 12-19 240n. 39 22.3 252n. 87 23.8 246n. 61 4Q164 (4QpIsad) 1 3 200 4Q165 (4QpIsae) 6 1 200

4Q173 (4QpPsb) 195 4Q174 (4QFlor/ MidrEschata) 195, 209, 231, 231n. 6 1 ii 2 200 1-2 i, 21 19 201n. 36 1-3 i 14-17 252n. 87

4Q166 (4QpHosa) 201 4Q166-167 (4QpHosa-b) 195

4Q177 (4QMidrEschatb) 195 4Q186 (4QCrypt) 55

4Q167 (4QpHosb) 1-2 201 3 202n. 40 7-8 201 10 202n. 40 26 202n. 40

4Q204 (4QEnc ar) 1 v 4 204n. 48 4Q208 (4QEnastra ar) 218

4Q168 (1QpMic) 195, 195n. 11

4Q209 (4QEnastrb ar) 218

4Q169 (4QpNah) 195, 196, 201n. 39 1-2 ii 8 200, 201n. 35, 201n. 39, 203n. 46 3-4 i 1 202n. 40 3-4 i 2-3 196n. 16

4Q212 (4QEng ar) 1 iv 12-13 204n. 48

2Q19 (2QJuba) 214 2Q20 (2QJubb) 214 3Q4 (3QpIsa) 195, 195n. 11, 209 6 206n. 56

4Q216 (4QJuba) 213 4Q219 (4QJubd)

2.29-31 204n. 48 4Q225 (4QpsJuba) 218, 219, 308 1 1-5 218 1 6-10 218 2 i 5-8 218 2 i 8-9 218 2 i 9-10 219 2 i 9–2 ii 10 218 2 ii 7 219 2 ii 13-14 218, 219 4Q225-27 (4QpsJuba-c) 218, 219 4Q228 (work citing Jubilees) 216 1 i 5-8 216n. 17 1 i 8 216n. 17 1 i 9-10 216n. 17

4Q243 (4QpsDana) 9 78n. 25 11 ii 78n. 25 12 78n. 25 13 78n. 25

4Q259 (4QSe) 230n. 4, 231 4Q264 (4QSj) 257 4Q265 (4QSD) 4 ii 3-7 212 4Q266 (4QDa) 11 16-20 224 4Q266-70 (4QDa-e) 231

4Q270 (4QDe) 7 ii 11-14 224 4Q275 (Communal Ceremony) 1 2 201n. 36 2 206n. 56

4Q243-44 (4QpsDana-b) 72, 78n. 25 4Q244 (4QpsDanb) 8 78n. 25 12 78n. 25

4Q280 (Curses) 2.4-5 236n. 24 2.5 241n. 42 4Q285 (Destruction of Kittim) 209, 230n. 1

4Q245 (4QpsDanc) 72 4Q246 (4QapocDan ar) 72, 231

4Q286 (4QBera) 7 i 2 201n. 36 7 ii 5-11 236n. 24 4Q300 (4QMystb) 3.5-6 245n. 57

4Q252 (4QGena/ 4Qpatr) 217

4Q317 (4QAstrCrypt) 218

4Q255 (4QSa) 1.1 234 2.10 249n. 73

4Q375 (4QapocrMos B) 2 ii 5 201n. 36 4Q380 (Non-canonical Psalms) 1 ii 11 201n. 36 4Q384 (4QApocJer B) 216, 216n. 17 8 2 216n. 17 9 2 216n. 17 4Q385 (4QpsEzeka) 243n. 47 4Q394-99 (4QMMT) 205 4QMMT 153, 162, 205, 205n. 52, 208, 216, 230, 231, 232, 234, 238, 248, 248n. 71, 252n. 88, 253n. 91, 256, 260n. 116 C 7-9 205 C 10-11 205 C 12-16 205 C 23-32 205 C 31 205 117 (=C 31) 245n. 56, 256n. 101 4Q398 (4QMMTe) 14-17 ii 2-5 212 14-17 ii 3 205 4Q400 (4QShirShabba) 231 4Q401 (4QShirShabbb) 1-2.1 234n. 19 4Q403 (4QShirShabbd) 1.30 234n. 19 2.18 234n. 19 4Q405 (4QShirShabbf) 20-22.6 234n. 19

4Q320 (4QMish A) 218

4Q255, 257 (4QSb,d) 250, 251, 253, 254, 255, 257

4Q256 (4QSb) 260

4Q258 (4QSd) 253n. 90, 254n. 94, 260 2 ii 4-5 255 2 ii 7 255

4Q267 (4QDb) 17 i 8 242 18 iii 12 247n. 66 18 v 11-14 243n. 51

4Q242 (4QPrNab ar) 72

4Q255-264 (4QSa-j)

349

Index of References

235

4Q321 (4QMish Ba) 218 4Q370 (4QAdmonFlood) 2.2 232n. 10 4Q374 (4QapocrMos A) 2 ii 4 241n. 42

4Q406 (4QShirShabbg) 1.6 234n. 19 4Q414 (4QRitPur A) 249 4Q416 (4QInstructionb) 2 ii 14 201n. 36

350 4Q418 (4QInstructiond) 21 1 201n. 36 212 2 206n. 56

Index of References 4Q552-53 (4QFour Kingdoms ar) 72n. 3 5Q11 (5QS) 235

4Q427-32 (4QHymnsa-f) 231

4Q438 (Barkhi Nafshie) 3 2 201n. 36

11Q5 (11QPsa) 217 18.16 243 19.5 246, 246n. 60 19.7 246, 246n. 60 19.11 246, 246n. 60 22.9-10 243 27.1 276n. 20

4Q440 (Hodayot-like C) 260

11Q6 (11QPsb) A 6 246, 246n. 60

4Q491-96 (4QM) 231

11Q12 (11QJub) 214n. 7

4Q494 (4QMd) 1.4-5 240n. 40

11Q13 (11QMelch) 195, 260

4Q496 (4papQMf) 4.10.5 240n. 40

11Q14 (11QBer) 12 260n. 115

4Q503 (4QPrQuot) 21-28 vii 8 236

11Q17 (11QShirShabb) 2.8 234n. 19

4Q504 (4QDibHama) 1-2 ii 9-10 248 1-2 vi 5-6 248 3.3–4.12 236 4.5-7 248

11Q19 (11QTemplea) 216 44.5 215

4Q507 (4QPrFêtes) 231 1.1-3 248 97-98 i 5-7 236

11Q21 (11QTemple?) 231, 232, 248, 248n. 71 57.13 245n. 56 57.19 245n. 56

4Q434 (4QBarkhi Nafshia) 231

4Q511 (4QShirb) 2.1.1 234n. 19 63 iii 3-4 243n. 51 4Q512 (4QpapRitPur B) 249 29-32 vii 9-10 249 4Q521 (Messianic Apocalypse) 230n. 1, 231, 243n. 47 4Q524 (4QTemple) 231 4Q541 (4QapocLevib) 231 4Q551 (4QDanSuz?) 71n. 2

11Q20 (11QTempleb) 216

HEBREW BIBLE / OLD TESTAMENT Genesis 215 1 179n. 32, 215 1.26 (LXX) 177 1.27 179 2 2.1–41.24 169 2.17 (LXX) 172 3 171n. 9 5.24 184 6 211 6.1-4 171 6.9 110 11–12 222 12.7 222 13.15 222

13.16 222 15 95 15.1-6 212, 218 15.3 222 15.5 222 15.7 222 15.8-17 89 15.11 90 15.13 222 15.18 222 17 223 17.1 110 17.1-2 57 17.7 222 17.8 222 17.9 57, 222 17.10 222 17.12 222 18.19 57 21.1-5 218 21.21 266 22 211, 218, 224, 308 22.11-19 225 22.12 224 22.16 225 22.16-18 57 25.8 175 26.3-5 57 33.19 268n. 4 34.1-31 28 35.29 175 49.33 (LXX) 175 Exodus 215 5.8 61n. 39 7.14–15.21 37 8 188 8.1-15 189 8.8 61n. 39 8.20-32 189 9.23-25 190 10.1-20 189 10.21-23 190 12 218 12.29-30 190 13–14 218 13.17-22 190 14 190, 215 14.5–15.21 37 14.10 61n. 40 14.26-31 190 15 27, 28, 28n. 27 15.25 61n. 40 16.1-21 190 17.1-7 188 17.4 61n. 40

22.22 61n. 39 22.28 61n. 39 23.7 256 25.9 123n. 46 25.40 123n. 46 Leviticus 4–5 160 16.21 95n. 32 18.21 265 26.3-4 55 Numbers 16 190 20.17 167 21.5-9 189 24.17 275 25.13 248n. 70 28.14 167 35 180n. 35 35.33 248 Deuteronomy 215 4.19 96 5.31 176 5.33 111 6.4-5 19 7.6-12 236 8.17-20 19 17.16 44 18.13 110 20.2-7 291 23.3 22, 23 28.1-4 153 28.15-19 153 29.28 256n. 101 30.1-10 153 30.15 111 30.19 111 31 56 31.9-13 224 31.16-29 56 31.19 56 31.21 56 32 56 32.21 124n. 54 32.43 248 34.5 179 34.6 176 Joshua 22.19 248n. 69 24.7 61n. 40 Judges 2.1 272

351

Index of References 2.4 272 2.16 5 2.18 5 3.9 5, 58n. 32, 61 3.11 58n. 32 3.15 5, 61 3.31 5 4 63 4–5 64 4.1-2 62 4.3 61 4.5 272 4.6 62n. 42 4.14 62n. 42, 272n. 8 4.15 62n. 42, 63 4.17-22 63 4.23 62n. 42, 63 5 63, 271 5.1 63 5.2 63 5.3 272 5.7 272 5.9 271, 272 5.13-15 63 5.20 63 5.23 272 6.6 61 6.7 61 7.2 19 10.3-6 67 10.10 61, 62 10.10-16 61 10.16 62 11.1-7 65 13 272 13.18 272 Ruth 2.12 124n. 49, 124n. 54 1 Samuel 5.10 61n. 39 7.8 61n. 39 11.9 5 19.20 61n. 39 23.12 61n. 39 28 60 28.12 61n. 39 2 Samuel 7 273 14.4 73n. 12 19.5 61n. 39 19.28 61n. 39 22.36 4n. 23 23.5 4n. 23

1 Kings 2.10 122n. 36 4.32 146 11.21 122n. 36 14.8 273 14.9 273 16.13 124n. 54 16.26 124n. 54 22.32 61n. 39 2 Kings 4.40 61n. 39 6.5 61n. 39 6.26 73n. 12 17.15 124n. 54 18.19-25 17n. 9 18.26-35 37, 38 2 Chronicles 3.1 211, 225 20.7 211, 224 32.9-22 38 Ezra 9.11 248n. 69 Esther 4.1 61n. 39 7.6-10 44 8.17 23 9.5-16 44 Job 13.16 5 40–42 27 Psalms 215 1 162 9.9 25 10.12 25 10.18 25 12.6 4n. 23 15.2 110 17.8 124n. 49 18.36 4n. 23 36.8 124n. 49 37 307, 314 37.8-9 202 37.9 202 37.10 202 37.11 202, 209 37.18 110 37.22 209 44.3 5 50.23 248n. 70 51.17 248n. 70

352 57.2 124n. 49 62.2 73 63.8 124n. 49 65.3 248n. 70 69.32 25 72 147 72.13 25 74.12 5 78.25 122 78.38 248n. 70 79.8-9 248n. 70 80.2 5 82.3-4 25 84.12 110 89.26 73 101 110 106.38 248n. 69 106.47 5 119 110 Proverbs 182 1–9 185 8.22-36 186 16.6 248n. 70 Ecclesiastes 182 9.5 122n. 37 Isaiah 215 1.15 270 2.2 256 4.5 270 10 307 10.12-15 17n. 9 10.19-23 239n. 34 10.20-23 203 10.21 240n. 39 10.22 203, 204, 241 10.24–11.11 239n. 34 11 307 11.2 210n. 67 11.6-9 122 11.16 239n. 34 14.12-20 17n. 9 14.22 239n. 34 14.31 61n. 39 15.5 61n. 39 26.14 80n. 27 26.19 80n. 27, 122n. 36 27.9 248n. 70 28.5 278 33.15 246n. 60 33.22 5 37.11-20 38 37.31-32 239n. 34 41.8 211, 224, 227

Index of References 43.5-7 5 43.10-12 269 43.11 5 44.6 19 45.8 4n. 23 45.17 5 45.20 5 45.21 5 45.24 239n. 35, 246n. 60 45.25 239n. 35, 241 46.3 239n. 35, 241 46.7 5 46.13 239n. 35 49.8 5 49.16 115, 123 51.5 4n. 23 51.5-8 245 51.14 25 52.4 25 52.13–53.12 306 53 183 54.1 273 56.1 245 60–61 141 60.21 204n. 48 61.1 25 62.3 121n. 33 62.11 4n. 23 64.5 246n. 60 65.14 61n. 39 Jeremiah 2.5 124n. 54 2.27 5 3.23 5 8.19 124n. 54 11.12 5 23.3-8 239n 35 25.11-12 79 25.34 61n. 39 29.10 79 31.7 5 32.41 204n. 48 46.27 5 47.2 61n. 39 51.5 246n. 60 Ezekiel 1.6 277 1.8 277 1.26-28 277 7.7 278 11.13-20 239n. 35 14.14 72n. 5 14.20 72n. 5 16.12 121n. 33

18.24 246n. 60 21.7 61n. 39 23 279 23.42 121n. 33 27.3 61n. 39 28.3 72n. 5 28.7 203 30.11 203 31.12 203 32.12 203 33.13 246n. 60 34 161 34.16 25 37 161 37.1-14 80n. 27 40–48 161 Daniel 313, 314 1 72, 76n. 19, 313 1–6 71, 72, 74, 306 1.1–2.4 71, 73 2 72, 72n. 3, 76n. 18, 76n. 19, 77, 84, 84n. 44, 313 2–7 73 2.4–7.28 71 2.5 76n. 19 2.28 74, 84n. 44 2.34 74, 84, 84n. 44 2.44-45 74, 84n. 44 2.45 84 3 74, 76, 76n. 18, 83, 84, 313 3–6 72 3.8-30 37 3.18 27, 30 3.23 72 3.24 72 3.25 75 3.28 75 3.30 75 3.66 75 3.88 (LXX) 75 3.92 (OG) 75 3.95 (LXX) 75 4 72, 76n. 18, 76n. 19 4–6 72 5 76n. 18, 76n. 19 6 76, 76n. 18, 83, 84, 313 6.1-28 37 6.17 (MT) 75 6.21 (MT) 75 6.28 (MT) 75 7 72, 72n. 3, 77, 78, 78n. 25, 84, 302

7–12 71, 72, 74, 313 7.9 86n. 48 7.10 120n. 30 7.25 81 7.26-27 77 8 72, 77, 78, 79 8.1–12.13 71 8.11 72n. 6, 78 8.14 78 8.25 84 9 71, 72, 78, 78n. 22, 78n. 24, 79, 79n. 26, 82, 83, 85 9.4-19 71, 78 9.11 79 9.13 79 9.16 246n. 60 9.18 246n. 60 9.22 79 9.24 248n. 70 9.27 72n. 6 9.30-31 79n. 26 10–12 72, 79 10.13 77n. 21 10.20-21 77n. 21 11–12 314 11.31 72n. 6 11.33-35 85 11.35 80, 86 11.40-45 79 12 80, 85, 85n. 47 12.1 81, 85 12.1-3 77, 80n. 29, 184, 302, 306 12.1-13 79-80 12.2 122n. 36, 314 12.3 80, 85, 122n. 40 12.7 81 12.10 85, 86n. 48 12.11 72n. 6, 81 12.11-12 73 12.12 81 Hosea 6.2 80n. 27 6.7 201 13.4 5 14.4 5 Jonah 1.1–2.10 37 1.5 61n. 39 2.8 124n. 54 Micah 1.5 206

353

Index of References 2.12 239n. 35 7.18 239n. 35 7.20 239n. 35

MISHNAH, TALMUD, AND RELATED LITERATURE

Habakkuk 1.5 199 2.3 116n. 13 2.4 121n. 34, 207, 207n. 57, 207n. 58, 208, 210

Mishnah (m.)

Zephaniah 3.19 Zechariah 8.6-15 239n. 35 8.7 5 12.7 5 13.2 248n. 69 14.9 277 Malachi 3.23-24 278

Avot (’Abot.) 3.5 124n. 48 3.16 156n. 52 3.19 244 4.10 208n. 64 Megillah (Meg.) 3 267 4.9 265 29 270 Sotah (Sot. ah) 8 291 Taanit (Ta‘an.) 4.8 275 Babylonian Talmud (b.)

IAMBLICHUS De mysteriis 8.7 96 JOSEPHUS Antiqtuitates judaicae 12.146-57 19 13.172 156, 244 13.235 50n. 4 15.371 157 18.11-25 54 Contra Apionem 2.53-55 32 Bellum judaicum 1.60 50n. 4 1.162-63 156 2.134 242 2.137-38 243 2.162 244 6.316 196n. 16, 283 8.119-66 54 JUSTIN MARTYR Epitome 30.1.6 33n. 11

Avodah Zarah (‘Abod. Zar.) 16b-17a 277 Bava Batra (B. Bat.) 75a 270 123b 281 Berakhot (Ber.) 32b 270 Gittin (Git.) 56a 281 56b 281 Hagigah (Hag.) 2.1 277n. 23 13a 277 13a-14a 277n. 23 Megillah (Meg.) 3a 278, 279 4.10 277n. 23 Menahot (Menah.) 43b 277 Niddah (Nid.) 13b 270

354 Pesahim (Pesah..) 54a 279 68 267 Qiddushin (Qidd.) 31a 270 Sanhedrin (Sanh.) 11 289 91 295 99a 278n. 26 Shabbat (Šabb.) 80b 277n. 23 156a-b 89, 96 Yoma 39b 281 86b 283 Other Rabbinic Works Genesis Rabbah (Gen. Rab.) 44.12 89, 96 77.1.1 289 79.7 268n. 4 Leviticus Rabbah (Lev. Rab.) 2.10 57 Mekilta ‘Amalek (Mek. ‘Amalek) 2.155-159 277 Mo’ed Qatan (Mo’ed Qat) 28b 279 Pirqe Rabbi Eliezer (Pirqe R. El) 3 279

Index of References 21.28 119n. 22 John 1.1 178n. 32 1.1-18 186 Acts 15.10 124n. 48 Romans 193 1–11 99 1.17 207 1.18-32 189 3 309 3.4-5 247n. 63 3.8-20 159n. 66 3.19-26 212 3.20 253n. 91 3.27-28 253n. 91 4.2 253n. 91 4.6 253n. 91 9–11 309 11.25-26 241n. 44 1 Corinthians 5.9-13 261n. 117 15.41 122n. 40 2 Corinthians 6.14–7.1 261n. 117 7.6 119n. 26 7.7 119n. 26 10.10 119n. 26 12.2 134n. 39 12.4 123n. 45 Galatians 2.15-16 159n. 66 2.16 212 3.11 207 4.4 118 4.26 123n. 45 5.1 124n. 48

11.17 308 12.22 123n. 45 James 2.21-23 308 1 Peter 4.7 119n. 22 5.4 121n. 33 Revelation 2.7 123n. 45 2.17 122 3.4-5 86n. 48 3.12 123n. 45 4.6 122 6.4 122 7.11 122 7.13-14 86n. 48 15.4 246n. 60 20.12 120n. 30 21.2 123n. 45 21.10 123n. 45 PHILO De Abrahamo 3-6 173 52-53 174n. 19 54 174n. 19, 177 68 170 87 173n. 16 De cherubim 27-28 178 De confusione linguarum 171-80 178n. 31 190 170 De vita contemplativa 78 173n. 17

NEW TESTAMENT Matthew 6.19 125 6.20 125 11.29 124n. 48 13.43 122n. 40 24 135n. 42 24.37 119n. 26 25.31-46 135, 135n. 42 Luke 3.7-9 228

Colossians 1.15-20 186

De decalogo 63 173

2 Thessalonians 1.7 119 2.9 119n. 26

Quod deterius potiori insidari soleat 54 178n. 30

Hebrews 1.1-4 186 5.12 146 10.38 207 11.1–12.2 308

Quod Deus sit immutabilis 57 179 136 177n. 28

De ebrietate 31 178n. 30 94 174n. 24 De fuga et inventione 63 173n. 14 94-105 180n. 35 97 179, 180 102 180n. 35 109 178n. 30 141 177 168 174, 175 De gigantibus 171, 180 12-13 171 15 172 Quis rerun divinarum heres sit 55 171n. 10 98 174 166 178 205 178n. 30 231 177 234 179n. 34 240 171n. 12 De Josepho 264 172 Legatio ad Gaium 182 Legum allegoriae 1.107-8 172 2.4 173 3.96 179 3.115 171n. 10 3.206 178n. 29 De migratione Abrahami 2 171 26-30 174 De vita Mosis 169 2.43-44 169n. 5 De mutatione nominum 88 174n. 24

Index of References De plantione 9 179 De posteritate Caini 101-2 167 167-68 177

Targum Pseudo-Jonathan (Tg. Ps.-J.) 265, 266, 267, 272, 274, 278, 279, 282, 283 1.1 283 2.10 283 3.9 283

De praemiis et poenis 39 177 165-72 169n. 5

Targums to the Prophets (Tg. Neb.)

Quaestiones et solutions in Genesin 2.62 179

Targum Joshua (Tg. Josh.) 3.10 273 6.19 273

De sacrificiis Abelis et Caini 175 5 175 7 175 8 176, 176n. 27, 179 10 176

Targum Judges (Tg. Judg.) 2.13 273 5.9 274

De somniis 1.67 177 1.135 171n. 11 2.232 175 2.249 280 De virtutibus 8 173 168 173 PLATO Meno 81 173n. 17 Theaetetus 176 173, 174n. 23 POLYBIUS History 5.79-86 33n. 11 5.79-87 32 12.25 42 TARGUMIC TEXTS

De opificio mundi 117 171n. 10 144 172, 173 146 179n. 33 165-66 171n. 9

355

Targum Onqelos (Tg. Onq.) 266 Targum Neofiti (Tg. Neof.) 266

Targum 1 Samuel (Tg. 1 Sam.) 2.1 272 2.5 273, 275 3.3 273 3.7 273 3.10 273 7.2-3 273 7.6 273 23.1 274 23.3 274 Targum 2 Samuel (Tg. 2 Sam.) 7.19 274 22.1 274 22.28 274 22.32 274 Targum Isaiah (Tg. Isa.) 267, 268, 271, 273, 274, 275, 276, 278, 280, 281, 282, 284 1.15 270 4.2 279 4.2-3 269 4.5 270 5.2 276 5.17 267 6.10 280 6.29 276 8.18 270 16 278 17.11 270 18.1 282 26.21 270 28.5 278

356 32.9 279 43.14 269 Targum Jeremiah (Tg. Jer.) 268, 275, 276, 276n. 20, 284 2.21 276 23.5 276n. 20 23.5-6 276 30.9 276 30.21 276 31.12 276 33.13 276 33.15-17 276 33.20-22 276 33.26 276 Targum Ezekiel (Tg. Ezek.) 268, 276, 277, 278, 280, 284 7.6-7 277 7.7 278 17.22-23 278 23.2 279 Targum Hosea (Tg. Hos.) 280 1.1-3 280 2.2 280 3.5 280 4.4 280 4.9 280 4.12 280 6.2 280 8.6 280 11.2 280 12.1 280 Targum Joel (Tg. Joel) 2.14 282

Index of References Targum Amos (Tg. Amos) 1.1 280 2.8 280 3.8 280 9.1 280 9.11 280 Targum Obadiah (Tg. Obad.) 1.18 281 1.21 281 Targum Micah (Tg. Mic.) 281 2.11 281 2.13 281 4.7-8 281 5.1 279 7.12 281 7.20 281 Targum Nahum (Tg. Nah.) 1.1 281 1.7 281 1.8 281 Targum Habakkuk (Tg. Hab.) 1.16 283 3.1 283 Targum Zephaniah (Tg. Zeph.) 281, 282 1.4 282 1.5 282 1.8-9 282 3.2 282 3.4 282 3.9 282 3.10 282 3.11 282

3.12 282 3.15 282 3.19 282 Targum Zechariah (Tg. Zech.) 279, 280, 284 3.8 279 4.7-9 279 5.5-11 280 5.9 279 6.12-13 279 10.2 279 10.4 279 10.11 280 13.4 279 14.9 279 Targum Malachi (Tg. Mal.) 284 1.10 278 1.11 278 2.12 278 3.7 278 3.10 278 3.12 278 Targums to the Writings (Tg. Ket.) 267 Targum Psalms (Tg. Ps.) 267 72.17 279 Targum Proverbs (Tg. Prov.) 267 Targum Esther (Tg. Est.) 267 Fragments Targum 266, 267

Index of Authors Abegg, Jr., Martin G. 153, 153n. 38, 193, 197n. 20, 199n. 30, 205n. 52, 205n. 54, 212n. 2 Aberbach, Moses 275n. 17 Aland, K. 116n. 9 Alexander, Loveday 40n. 23 Alexander, Philip S. 31n. 2, 32n. 6, 40n. 23, 251n. 79, 251n. 82, 251n. 85, 253n. 90, 258n. 109, 261n. 118 Allegro, John M. 195n. 12, 203n. 45 Alonso-Schökel, L. 15n. 3 Andersen, Francis I. 128n. 3, 132, 132n. 28, 132n. 29, 132n. 32, 134n. 36, 134n. 37, 138, 138n. 48, 138n. 49, 138n. 50, 138n. 51, 139n. 52, 139n. 53 Anderson, Arnold A. 195n. 12 Atkinson, Kenneth 8, 145, 146n. 5, 146n. 6, 146n. 7, 146n. 8, 147n. 10, 147n. 12, 147n. 13, 149n. 17, 149n. 19, 151n. 32, 155n. 44, 156n. 52, 157n. 55, 157n. 58, 158n. 60, 158n. 63, 159n. 69, 160n. 70, 160n. 71, 160n. 73, 161n. 74, 162n. 78, 162n. 80, 305 Baars, W. 148n. 15 Bachmann, M. 205n. 52, 253n. 91 Baillet, M. 71n. 1 Barclay, John M. G. 46n. 31, 48n. 35, 48n. 36, 55n. 20 Barthélemy, D. 71n. 1 Bartolomé, Juan José 189n. 23 Bauckham, Richard J. 51n. 6, 100, 100n. 7, 103n. 12, 109, 109n. 28, 112, 112n. 35, 113, 114, 115, 115n. 4, 115n. 5, 125n. 57, 125n. 58, 125n. 60, 126n. 61, 126n. 62, 140n. 56 Baumgarten, A. I. 251n. 83 Baumgarten, Joseph M. 223, 223n. 35, 231n. 7, 239n. 38, 245n. 57, 247n. 66, 249n. 72, Becker, Jürgen 232n. 14 Bedard, Stephen 92 Begg, Christopher T. 89n. 13 Begrich, Joachim 146n. 3 Ben-Dov, Jonathan 218, 218n. 24

Bernstein, M. 195n. 12, 218n. 27 Berthelot, Katell 174n. 18, 240n. 40 Berrin, Shani 193n. 1, 194n. 5, 194n. 6, 194n. 7, 195 Betz, Otto 197n. 20, 231, 232n. 10, 233n. 14, 245, 245n. 56, 245n. 58, 245n. 59, 247n. 63, 248n. 71 Beyerle, S. 80n. 29 Bidawid, R. J. 98n. 1 Bird, Michael F. 5, 6, 15, 22n. 13, 125n. 57, 300, 301 Black, Matthew 129n. 8, 207n. 59, 207n. 62 Blenkinsopp, Joseph 272n. 10 Blessing, Kamila 152n. 33 Blischke, Mareike Verena 184n. 9 Boccaccini, G. 78n. 23, 128n. 5, 214n. 5, 215n. 12, 218n. 24 Bockmuehl, Markus 9, 9n. 26, 134n. 39, 197n. 20, 198, 198n. 22, 198n. 23, 198n. 25, 199, 199n. 26, 199n. 28, 208n. 64, 229, 239n. 38, 243n. 47, 249n. 74, 251n. 80, 257n. 105, 307, 308 Bogaert, P. M. 50n. 5, 116n. 9, 116n. 11, 118n. 20, 119n. 27, 123n. 41 Böttrich, C. 128n. 4, 129, 129n. 10, 129n. 14, 130n. 15, 133n. 34, 137, 137n. 46, 137n. 47, 140 Bowley, James E. 92n. 22 Box, G. H. 87n. 4, 94, 94n. 27, 98n. 1, 105n. 17 Braun, Herbert 155, 155n. 45, 155n. 46, 156, 156n. 49 Brock, Sebastian P. 148n. 14, 221n. 32 Brooke, George J. 193n. 2, 195n. 12, 196n. 16, 203n. 45 Brownlee, William H. 194n. 5, 195n. 12, 200n. 31, 200n. 32, 201n. 35, 202n. 43, 207n. 62, 208n. 63, 233n. 14 Büchler, Adolf 153n. 39 Burkes, Shannon 111, 111n. 33, 184n. 9 Burnyeat, M. 173n. 14 Burrows, Millar 195n. 12

358

Index of Authors

Callaway, P. R. 254n. 92 Carmignac, J. 194n. 8, 207n. 62, 234n. 19 Cathcart, K. J. 268n. 3, 279n. 27, 279n. 29, 282n. 32, 283, 283n. 35 Chamberlain, John V. 233n. 14 Chapman, Honora 157n. 54 Charles, R. H. 116n. 11, 119n. 24, 119n. 25, 119n. 26, 121n. 34, 121n. 35, 123n. 43, 123n. 47, 124n. 49, 142, 142n. 60, 310n. 15 Charlesworth, James H. 1, 1n. 1, 115n. 2, 128n. 3, 195n. 12, 196n. 14, 196n. 17, 221n. 31, 223n. 35, 223n. 14, 234n. 17, 248n. 71, 249n. 73, 250n. 78, 251n. 81, 253n. 92, 254n. 95, 257n. 104, 259n. 111 Cheon, Samuel 184n. 11, 187n. 18, 188n. 21 Chilton, Bruce 10, 225n. 39, 265, 268n. 2, 268n. 4, 274n. 15, 277n. 24, 279n. 29, 281n. 30, 282n. 31, 282n. 32, 309, 310 Christiansen, Ellen Juhl 201n. 36 Churgin, Pinkhos 279, 279n. 27 Clifford, Richard J. 181n. 1, 186n. 13 Cohn, L. 168n. 3 Cohn-Sherbok, Dan 1, 1n. 3, 1n. 4, 2, 90n. 16 Collins, J. J. 2n. 12, 32n. 7, 47n. 33, 72n. 3, 72n. 4, 77, 77n. 20, 78n. 23, 80n. 28, 80n. 29, 81n. 31, 86, 86n. 49, 88n. 8, 150n. 28, 151n. 31, 152n. 35, 161n. 75, 185n. 12, 186n. 15, 200n. 33, 243n. 47, 252n. 89 Colson, F. H. 168n. 3, 171n. 11, 174n. 20, 175, 177n. 28, 180n. 35 Cook, Edward M. 193n. 3 Cook, Joan E. 102n. 11 Cousland, J. R. C. 6, 31, 36n. 16, 42n. 26, 45n. 29, 301 Cox, Ronald 8, 167, 170n. 7, 178n. 29, 179n. 32, 305, 306 Crawford, Cory D. 221n. 32, 222n. 33 Crawford, S. White 212n. 1, 214n. 5, 214n. 9, 215n. 12, 216n. 15 Cross, F. M. 250, 250n. 78, 254n. 92 Cory, N. Clayton 31n. 2, 32n. 9, 33, 33n. 10 Cryer, F. H. 254n. 92 Davenport, Gene L. 161n. 74 Davies, Philip R. 17n. 8, 23n. 16, 26n. 20, 26n. 21, 29n. 33, 225n. 39, 243n. 47, 251n. 81, 252n. 88 Davila, James R. 115n. 8, 128n. 3, 132, 132n. 30 DeConick, April D. 93, 93n. 24

Delcor, Mathias 145n. 2, 146n. 4, 150n. 29 Denis, A.-M. 116n. 9, 145n. 1, 148n. 14 deSilva, David A. 15n. 4, 28n. 30, 181n. 1 Di Lella, Alexander 71n. 2, 183n. 5 Dietzfelbinger, Christian 50n. 4 Dillon, John 174n. 18, 178n. 29, 178n. 30 Dimant, Devorah 195n. 8, 217n. 19, 248n. 71 DiTommaso, L. 3, 6, 71, 74n. 14, 78n. 22, 81n. 33, 302 Dodson, Joseph R. 189n. 25 Donaldson, Terence L. 23n. 17, 89, 89n. 12, 96, 124, 124n. 52, 124n. 53, 124n. 54, 124n. 55 Draper, Jonathan A. 88n. 7 Dray, Carol A. 273n. 13 Dunn, J. D. G. 205n. 52, 213n. 2, 253n. 91, 260n. 116 Dupont-Sommer, A. 207, 207n. 59, 234n. 19 Eckhardt, Benedikt 147n. 12 Eisenman, Robert H. 207n. 61 Elgvin, Torleif 88n. 5 Elliger, Karl 194n. 6 Elliott, Mark A. 3, 29n. 32 Embry, Brad 150, 150n. 26 Enns, Peter 52n. 10, 188n. 21 Enslin, M. S. 17n. 5, 26n. 19, 27n. 26 Eshel, Esther 254n. 92 Eshel, Hanan 242n. 47 Esler, P. F. 108n. 25 Evans, Craig A. 199n. 27, 199n. 30, 265n. 1 Falk, Daniel K. 212n. 1 Feldman, L. 142n. 58 Fewell, D. Nolan 82n. 38 Fisk, Bruce 50n. 3, 51n. 7, 51n. 8, 52n. 10 Fitzmyer, Joseph 207n. 58, 213n. 2 Flint, P. W. 72n. 3, 215n. 13, 215n. 14, 217n. 21 Flusser, David 253n. 91 Franklyn, P. N. 149, 149n. 18 Freedman, Harry 275n. 18 Gagnon, Robert A. 250n. 75 Garlington, Don B. 19n. 11, 27, 27n. 23, 29n. 32 Garnet, Paul 197n. 20, 198n. 23, 201n. 38, 233n. 14, 247, 247n. 67, 251n. 82, 253n. 91 Gärtner, Bertil 248n. 71 Gat, Yosef 242n. 47 Gathercole, Simon J. 55n. 20, 58n. 31, 197n. 20, 205n. 54



Index of Authors

Gilbert, Maurice 182n. 4, 184n. 10, 189n. 24 Ginzberg, Louis 223, 223n. 35 Glessmer, Uwe 218n. 24 Golb, Norman 254n. 92 Goldingay, J. 82n. 38 Goodman, David 91n. 18 Goodman, M. 132n. 31, 142n. 59 Gordon, R. P. 268n. 3, 279n. 27, 279n. 29, 282n. 32, 283, 283n. 35 Gorman, M. J. 3n. 20, 73n. 9 Grabbe, Lester L. 181n. 1 Graf, Fritz 49n. 37 Gray, George B. 157n. 56 Greenhut, Zvi 242n. 47 Greenspahn, Frederick E. 61n. 39 Gruen, Erich 47n. 33 Grundmann, Walter 197n. 20, 233n. 14 Gurtner, Daniel M. 114, 115n. 2, 115n. 3, 116n. 12, 117n. 15 Hacham, N. 31n. 1, 42n. 26, 47n. 34 Hadas, Moses 32n. 8, 39n. 21 Halperin, David 91, 91n. 19, 92n. 23 Halpern-Amaru, Betsy 55n. 23 Hann, Robert 149n. 17 Harlow, Daniel C. 95, 95n. 31 Harnisch, Wolfgang 100n. 6, 103n. 14 Harrington, Daniel J. 8, 15, 24, 24n. 18, 50n. 2, 50n. 5, 55n. 22, 181, 181n. 1, 268n. 3, 271n. 5, 272n. 9, 306, 307 Hayman, A. P. 104n. 16 Hayward, R. 268n. 3, 275, 276 Hempel, Charlotte 242n. 46, 251n. 83, 252n. 88, 258n. 109 Helleman, W. E. 173n. 15 Helm, Robert 95n. 32 Hilgenfeld, Adolph 146n. 2 Ho, Ahuva 282n. 33 Hogan, Karina Martin 183n. 7 Hogeterp, Albert L. A. 197n. 20, 205n. 52, 205n. 54 Hölbl, Günther 33n. 11 Holm-Nielsen, Svend 148n. 16, 150, 150n. 23, 151n. 30, 159n. 69 Horgan, Maurya P. 193n. 2, 194n. 5, 194n. 7, 195n. 11, 195n. 12, 196n. 17, 199n. 30, 200, 200n. 32, 200n. 34, 201n. 38, 203n. 45, 203n. 46 Horsley, Richard A. 88n. 7 Hubbard, Moyer V. 104n. 16 Huizenga, L. A. 226, 226n. 41 Humphreys, W. L. 76n. 18 Hunzinger, Claus-Hunno 230n. 4, 259, 259n. 111

359

Ilg, Norbert 233n. 14 Iovino, Paolo 189n. 25 Jacobson, Howard 50n. 6, 51, 51n. 7 James, M. R. 145n. 2 Janowski, Bernd 91n. 17 Jassen, Alex P. 3, 9, 193, 199n. 29, 200n. 31, 203n. 45, 203n. 46, 204n. 48, 205n. 53, 209n. 66, 210n. 68, 307 Jaubert, Annie 233n. 14, 239n. 36 Johnson, Sara R. 31n. 2, 32n. 5, 32n. 6, 47n. 33 Johnston, S. I. 49n. 37 Kabisch, Richard 105n. 17, 107n. 24 Kasher, Rimon 284n. 37 Keulers, Joseph 105n. 17 Kim, Heerak Christian 149n. 21 Kipper, Martina 186n. 17 Kister, M. 223, 223n. 34, 224n. 36 Kittel, Rudolf 148n. 14 Klawans, Jonathan 158n. 62 Klein, Charlotte 310n. 15 Klijn, A. Frederik 98n. 1, 115n. 7, 118n. 20, 119n. 26, 121n. 35, 124n. 49, 124n. 50 Klinzing, Georg 248n. 71 Kloner, Amos 242n. 47 Knibb, M. A. 83, 83n. 39, 107, 107n. 24, 234n. 19, 261n. 118 Knöpler, Thomas 40n. 22, 42n. 25 Knowles, Michael P. 221n. 32 Kolarcik, Michael 181n. 1, 183n. 7, 188n. 20 Kraft, R. A. 84n. 41, 304n. 10 Kratz, R. G. 84n. 44 Kugel, James 96n. 35 Kugler, Robert A. 160n. 72, 219, 219n. 27, 219n. 28, 254n. 96 Kuhn, H.-W. 233n. 14, 260n. 116 Kuhn, Karl G. 146n. 3 Kulik, Alexander 87n. 3 Laato, Antii 161n. 77 Landsman, J. I. 50n. 4, 94n. 27 Lane, W. L. 157n. 55 Lange, Armin 237n. 26, 239n. 36, 244n. 54 Larcher, Chrysostom 181n. 1 Laubscher, F. du T. 234n. 19, 254n. 96 Leaney, A. R. C. 233n. 14, 234n. 19, 238n. 31 Lehmann, M. R. 89n. 10 Lehtipuu, Outi 92n. 23 Leproux, Alexis 186n. 14 Levett, M. 173n. 14 Levey, Samson H. 268n. 3, 276, 277, 278, 278n. 25, 278n. 26

360

Index of Authors

Lévi, Israel 149n. 21 Levinson, John 51n. 9, 52n. 10 Lévy, Carlos 174n. 18, 174n. 23 Lichtenberger, Hermann 233n. 14, 237n. 26, 237n. 27, 238n. 29, 238n. 30, 238n. 31, 238n. 33, 239n. 36, 244n. 55, 247, 247n. 67, 249n. 71 Lied, Liv Ingeborg 114n. 1, 116, 117, 117n. 14, 117n. 15, 117n. 16, 117n. 17, 118n. 21, 125n. 59 Lim, Timothy H. 193n. 1, 193n. 2, 194n. 6, 195n. 8, 195n. 10, 195n. 11, 195n. 13, 196n. 15 Longenecker, Bruce W. 99, 99n. 4, 100, 100n. 5, 100n. 6, 108n. 25, 244n. 52 Lorein, G. W. 277n. 24 Lourié, B. 130n. 18 Lührmann, Dieter 158n. 64, 159n. 66, 160n. 71 Macaskill, Grant 7, 127, 129, 130n. 20, 131, 131n. 23, 134n. 39, 135, 135n. 43, 140, 140n. 56, 304 Magness, J. 214n. 9 Maier, Johann 248n. 71 Marcus, R. 168n. 3 Martínez, Garcia 216n. 18, 230n. 5, 249n. 73 Mason, Steve 157, 157n. 53, 157n. 54 Maunder, A. S. D. 129n. 8 McGinn, B. 85n. 45 McGlynn, Moyna 188n. 22 McNamara, Martin 279 Mélèze Modrzejewski, Joseph 31n. 2, 31n. 3, 32n. 4, 32n. 5, 42n. 25, 88n. 6 Merrill, Eugene H. 244n. 54 Metso, Sarianna 224n. 36, 233n. 15, 235n. 20, 250n. 76, 250n. 77, 251n. 83, 252n. 88, 253n. 90, 254n. 95, 254n. 96, 255n. 99, 256n. 103, 257n. 106 Metzger, Bruce M. 15n. 2, 17n. 7 Middleton, J. R. 3n. 20, 73n. 9 Milik, J. T. 129n. 8, 195n. 12, 214n. 8, 218, 218n. 26 Moo, Jonathan 7, 98, 99n. 2, 106n. 19, 303 Moore, Carey A. 15n. 2, 15n. 3, 17n. 6, 27n. 25, 29n. 31 Moore, G. F. 279n. 29, 282n. 31 Morawe, G. 151n. 30 Mortensen, B. P. 265n. 1 Murphy, Fredrick J. 50n. 1, 50n. 2, 50n. 4, 50n. 5, 51n. 7, 52n. 10, 54, 54n. 17, 54n. 19, 55n. 23, 57n. 27, 57n. 28, 59n. 33, 60, 61n. 37, 65n. 43, 117, 117n. 18 Murphy, Roland E. 17n. 7, 181n. 1

Murphy-O’Conner, J. 250n. 75, 256n. 103, 258n. 108 Najman, H. 215n. 12, 217n. 20, 219, 219n. 29 Navtanovich, Liudmila 129, 129n. 12 Neher, Martin 186n. 16 Ness, Lester 89n. 10 Neusner, J. 10, 231n. 8, 232, 232n. 12, 232n. 13, 285, 285n. 1, 299, 310 Newman, Judith 56, 57n. 24 Nickelsburg, George W. E. 11, 27, 27n. 24, 51n. 6, 54, 54n. 13, 54n. 14, 58n. 32, 85n. 47, 123n. 42, 125n. 56, 150, 150n. 24, 153, 153n. 36, 153n. 40, 155n. 42, 157n. 57, 159n. 68, 161n. 74, 161n. 76, 162n. 79, 163n. 81, 183n. 8, 260n. 116, 299, 300n. 1, 301n. 2, 304n. 10, 306n. 11, 307n. 13, 311n. 16 Nitzan, Bilhah 194n. 5, 196n. 18 O’Dell, J. 157n. 59, 162n. 80 Orlov, Andrei A. 84n. 41, 87n. 1, 91n. 20, 94, 95, 95n. 28, 95n. 29, 95n. 33, 128n. 4, 128n. 5, 128n. 6, 130, 132n. 27, 134, 134n. 38, 137n. 47, 140, 140n. 54, 140n. 57, 142 Otzen, Benedit 17n. 9, 18n. 10, 23, 23n. 16, 28, 28n. 28 Oxtoby, W. G. 82n. 37 Perdue, Leo G. 182n. 2 Pérez Fernández, Miguel 252n. 88 Pfann, Stephen J. 218n. 24 Pfeiffer, Robert H. 27n. 22 Philonenko, Marc 87n. 4, 89n. 14 Philonenko-Sayar, Belkis 87n. 4, 89n. 14 Pines, S. 130n. 17 Poirier, John C. 7, 87, 89n. 13, 302 Polzin, Robert 62n. 41 Pouilly, J. 250n. 75, 258n. 108 Puech, Émile 72n. 3, 216n. 15, 220n. 30, 230n. 5, 231n. 7, 252n. 88, 253n. 90 Qimron, Elisha 205n. 51, 216n. 16, 230n. 5 Rabin, Chaim 223, 223n. 35 Rabinowitz, Isaac 194n. 7 Rajak, Tessa 40n. 23, 46n. 32 Reese, James M. 181n. 1, 186n. 16 Reider, Joseph 181n. 1 Reinmuth, Eckart 51n. 8 Reiter, S. 168n. 3 Renaut, Luc 32n. 5, 32n. 7, 39n. 20 Reymond, Eric D. 183n. 6 Ringgren, Helmer 207n. 60, 233n. 14



Index of Authors

Roitman, Adolfo D. 23n. 14 Rosenberg, Roy 245n. 57 Rubinkiewicz, Ryszard 87n. 2, 87n. 4 Runia, David 172, 173n. 14, 179n. 33 Ryle, Herbert Edward 145n. 2, 148n. 14, 156n. 51 Sacchi, P. 81n. 34 Saldarini, A. J. 268n. 3, 272n. 9 Sanders, E. P. 2, 2n. 13, 3, 3n. 19, 8, 90n. 15, 99, 99n. 3, 99n. 4, 100, 100n. 8, 152, 152n. 34, 152n. 25, 153n. 37, 157n. 58, 159n. 67, 197, 197n. 20, 197n. 21, 198n. 22, 198n. 23, 198n. 24, 199n. 27, 201n. 36, 201n. 38, 204, 204n. 50, 205, 205n. 52, 206n. 55, 208n. 63, 213, 213n. 3, 230, 230n. 2, 230n. 3, 230n. 4, 231, 231n. 6, 231n. 8, 231n. 9, 232, 232n. 11, 232n. 14, 236, 236n. 25, 239n. 36, 239n. 38, 240n. 40, 241n. 43, 243n. 48, 247, 248n. 68, 249n. 73, 255n. 97, 257, 258, 258n. 107, 258n. 110, 259, 259n. 111, 260, 260n. 113, 260n. 114 Sanders, James A. 207n. 60244, 244n. 53 Sandmel, Samuel 169n. 4, 176, 176n. 26 Schechter, Solomon 223, 223n. 35 Schenck, Kenneth 167n. 2 Schiefer, F. W. 120n. 30 Schiffman, Lawrence H. 132n. 32, 160n. 72, 199n. 30, 209n. 65 Schipper, Bernd Ulrich 89n. 14 Schmitt, A. 71n. 1 Scholem, Gershom G. 277n. 23 Schröter, Jens 155n. 44, 158n. 64 Schubert, Kurt 207n. 61 Schulz, Siegried 233n. 14 Schüpphaus, Joachim 156, 156n. 50, 157n. 55, 157n. 68, 158n. 64 Schürer, Emil 2, 2n. 5, 2n. 6, 2n. 7, 2n. 8, 2n. 9, 2n. 10, 2n. 11, 147n. 12, 148n. 14 Segal, Alan F. 93n. 26 Segal, Michael 212n. 1 Seifrid, Mark A. 3n. 15, 3n. 19, 150, 150n. 25, 156, 156n. 47, 197n. 20, 197n. 21, 198n. 23, 198n. 24, 208n. 64, 233n. 14, 238n. 30, 238n. 31, 239n. 36, 246n. 60, 247n. 64, 249n. 73, 258, 258n. 108 Semmelink, J. W. 233n. 14 Sen, A. 81, 81n. 32 Seow, C. L. 84n. 43 Shemesh, Aharon 215n. 12, 220 220n. 30 Skehan, Patrick W. 28n. 29, 186n. 13 Smelik, W. F. 268n. 3, 272n. 6, 272n. 8, 272n. 9 Smolar, Leivy 275n. 17

361

Sprinkle, Preston 6, 50, 55n. 21, 301 Stegemann, Ekkehard 237n. 27, 238n. 29, 238n. 33 Stegemann, Hartmut 238n. 33, 239n. 33, 248n. 71 Sterling, Gregory 167n. 2, 174n. 24 Steudel, Annette 231n. 6 Stone, Michael E. 74n. 14, 98n. 1, 100, 100n. 8, 103n. 13, 103n. 14, 105n. 18, 106n. 23, 110, 110n. 31, 111, 111n. 34, 304, 304n. 9 Strawn, Brent A. 251n. 81 Strugnell, John 205n. 51, 230n. 5 Stuckenbruck, Loren T. 119n. 27 Stuedel, Annette 194n. 4 Stuhlmacher, Peter 233n. 14 Swarup, Paul 204n. 49 Sweeney, M. A. 82n. 38 Talmon, Shemaryahu 239n. 36 Thompson, Alden Lloyd 104n. 16 Tigchelaar, Eibert J. C. 216n. 18 Tiller, Patrick A. 204n. 49 Tobin, Thomas H. 169n. 5, 170n. 8, 178n. 30 Trafton, Joseph L. 146n. 3 Trever, John C. 195n. 12 Tromp, Johannes 150n. 27 Turdeanu, Émile 87n. 2 Ulrich, Ephraim E. 71n. 1 Vaillant, André 129n. 8, 129n. 9 van Deventer, H. J. M. 78n. 24 van Henten, Jan Wilem 21n. 12, 28n. 27 van Staalduine-Sulman, Eveline 272n. 11, 273n. 12, 273n. 14, 274n. 16 VanderKam, James C. 83n. 39, 147n. 11, 214n. 5, 214n. 6, 214n. 8, 214n. 9, 215n. 10, 215n. 11, 215n. 13, 215n. 14, 217, 217n. 19, 217n. 22, 217n. 23, 218, 218n. 24, 218n. 25, 218n. 26, 219n. 27, 222n. 33, 224, 224n. 38 VanLandingham, Chris 54, 54n. 15, 54n. 16, 57, 57n. 25, 58n. 30 Vermes, Geza 226n. 40, 234n. 17, 251n. 82, 251n. 83, 254n. 96 Violet, B. 116n. 11 Viteau, Joseph 145n. 2, 148n. 14, 162n. 79 Vogels, Walter 189n. 23 Wächter, Ludwig 89n. 10 Wadworth, M. 51n. 6 Wendland, P. 168n. 3 Werline, Rodney A. 78n. 26, 79, 149n. 20, 150n. 28

362

Index of Authors

Wernberg-Møller, P. 246n. 60 Werret, Ian 9, 211, 216n. 16, 307, 308 Wetermann, Claus 6, 34, 34n. 13, 74n. 13, 149, 150n. 22 Whitaker, G. H. 168n. 3 White, Sidnie Ann 23n. 14, 212n. 1 Whitters, Mark F. 115n. 6, 116n. 11 Wieder, Naphtali 283n. 36 Willitts, Joel 203n. 44 Wills, L. M. 82n. 38 Winninge, Mikael 148n. 16, 150, 150n. 25, 153n. 39, 155n. 41, 156, 156n. 48, 157n. 55, 157n. 56, 157n. 58, 157n. 59, 160n. 71 Winston, David 167n. 1, 168n. 3, 171n. 11, 174n. 22, 174n. 24, 176n. 25, 178n. 29, 181n. 1, 182n. 3

Wise, Michael O. 193n. 3, 248n. 71 Wright, Addison 188n. 19, Wright, N. T. 213n. 2 Wright, Robert B. 146n. 5, 148n. 16, 157n. 59, 159n. 65, 162n. 80 Yardeni, Ada 254n. 92 Yeung, Maureen W. 207n. 58 Yonge, C. D. 168n. 3, 171, 172, 173n. 16 York, A. D. 265n. 1 Zeitlin, S. 17n. 5, 26n. 19, 27n. 26 Zenger, Erich 15n. 1, 17n. 9, 23n. 15, 28n. 27

Index of Subjects Abraham 7, 9, 26, 89–90, 173, 174, 175, 220, 221–24, 227–28, 302, 308 Akedah 211, 218, 219, 224–27, 302, 308 children of 7, 43, 96 covenant with 57–58 faithfullness of 9, 88, 211–12, 308 Adam 91–92, 101, 103–4, 123, 137–8, 139–41, 170, 172, 187–88, 292–93, 304 allegorical interpretation 8, 167, 169, 170–71, 173, 176, 182 Bar Kokhba Revolt 88, 268 covenant as basis for salvation 300 fidelity 6, 26, 210, 307 negligence 160, 201 covenantal nomism 2–3, 85, 113, 152, 197, 204–8, 213, 230–33, 236, 244, 259 Deuteronomic theology 6, 25–27, 45, 53–54, 56, 61–62, 65–66, 74, 78–79, 82, 111, 154, 301–2, 307, 312 Diaspora 22, 39, 40, 45, 46–47, 72, 74, 76, 83, 132, 161, 182, 282, 305, 309, 310 eschatological blessing 3, 7, 98, 102, 114, 119, 120, 307, 314 Reward 7, 119, 121, 198, 208, 210 Exile 10, 18–19, 23–25, 65, 76, 72, 79, 83–84, 121, 152, 269–74, 280–82, 284–85, 296, 309–11, 313 Exodus 24, 46–47, 182, 187–90, 225–26, 269–70, 280 foreknowledge 24, 30, 300 Jerusalem destruction of 16, 18–20, 79, 118, 147, 148, 152 Heavenly/New Jerusalem 7, 10, 105, 114, 123 present Jerusalem 19, 20, 152

Law adherence to 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 30, 74, 109, 115, 126, 200, 201, 303, 312 Messiah 107–8, 118, 119–20, 209, 247, 274, 276, 279–82, 290–91, 296, 303 Davidic 8, 150, 160–61, 275, 276, 278, 280, 305, 310–11, 314 death of 105 kingdom 2, 10, 105–6 Messianic Age 1, 292, 295, 305, 309, 310 pre-existent 107, 113, 119 midrash 28, 231, 252, 267, 279–80, 286 miracles 18, 33, 34, 37–38, 46, 57, 75, 295 Moses 27, 28, 30, 52, 53, 55–57, 59, 61, 63, 99, 112, 119, 121, 123, 167, 169, 171–72, 176, 179, 180, 187–88, 211, 214–17, 225, 241, 248 Law of 76, 95, 170, 208, 223 Paradise 7, 107, 114, 119, 122, 128, 134–36, 138–39, 141, 172 persecution 31, 35, 208, 237, 252, 299, 302, 307, 313 of the righteous 31, 151, 311, 312 prayer 15–16, 20–21, 23–25, 28, 30, 33–34, 37–38, 40–41, 42, 44, 46, 48, 78–79, 101, 103, 110, 112–13, 139, 148, 149, 155, 160, 162, 187, 221–22, 232, 246, 278–79, 295, 300, 309, 312 resurrection 2, 3, 7, 52, 55, 67, 80, 85, 94, 107, 117, 161–62, 243, 280, 285–90, 292, 295–96, 299, 301–2, 305, 306, 310, 311–13, 314 corporate 64 of the righteous 8, 10, 58, 59, 60, 105–6, 123, 161, 163, 303 righteous(ness) based on Law 57, 158–59, 156, 256 basis for salvation 245–46, 86, 89, 155 God’s righteousness 158–59, 189, 209,

364

Index of Subjects

242, 245–47 teacher of 194, 197, 199, 200, 206, 207, 235, 237, 276, 307, 314 salvation agency divine 6, 29, 60, 66, 67, 104, 108, 213, 257 human 60, 104–5, 108, 113, 126, 163, 301 blessing 34–35, 36 corporate 6, 7, 24, 51, 151, 236, 238 cosmological 52–53, 291–92 deification 8, 172–73 deliverance 5, 6, 18, 21, 34, 36, 48, 73 discipline 145 divine mercy 25, 30, 62, 112 election 7, 9, 25, 26, 93, 151, 198, 203, 236 eschatological 9, 55, 77, 122, 126, 198 mimetic 227–28 nationalistic 314 paradoxical 15, 261

performance-reward 141 personal 6, 7, 24, 74, 133, 242, 312 predestination 242, 244 restoration of Israel 10, 39, 43, 48, 58, 204, 247, 285–86, 289, 295–96, 303 saved by wisdom 8, 181, 190 this-worldly 74, 300, 313 Second Adam 92 syncretism warning against 33, 47, 48, 53, 56, 66–67, 202, 241 Temple 7, 18, 43, 130 desecration of 33 destruction of 19–20, 115, 118 Herod’s 117, 124, 168 preservation of 19, 23 restoration of 10, 123, 270, 274, 276, 279, 284 separation from 162 theodicy 27, 80–82, 85, 92, 98, 116, 156, 303