The Land of Israel in Bible, History, and Theology

Supplements
to

Vetus Testamentum
Edited by the Board of the Quarterly
h.m. barstad – r.p. gordon – a. hurvitz – g.n. knoppers
a. van der kooij – a. lemaire – c.a. newsom – h. spieckermann
j. trebolle barrera – h.g.m. williamson

VOLUME 124
The Land of Israel in Bible,
History, and Theology
Studies in Honour of Ed Noort

Edited by
Jacques van Ruiten and J. Cornelis de Vos

LEIDEN • BOSTON
2009
This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

The land of Israel in Bible, history, and theology : studies in honour of Ed Noort / edited by
Jacques van Ruiten and J. Cornelis de Vos.
p. cm. -- (Supplements to Vetus Testamentum ; v. 124)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-90-04-17515-0 (hardback : alk. paper) 1. Palestine in the Bible. 2. Bible--History 3.
Palestine in Judaism. 4. Palestine--History. I. Noort, Edward. II. Ruiten, J. van (Jacques) III.
Vos, Jacobus Cornelis de, 1966- IV. Title. V. Series.

BS1199.P26L365 2009
220.9'1--dc22
2009011789

ISSN 0083-5889
ISBN 978 90 04 17515 0

Copyright 2009 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands.

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 CONTENTS

List of Illustrations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ix
Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xi
List of Contributors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv

part one
land in joshua and other
parts of the old testament
Translator’s Competence and Intention in lxx-Joshua  . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
Theo A.W. van der Louw
“Sound the Trumpet!” Redaction and Reception of Joshua :– . . 19
Michaël N. van der Meer
“Is This Not Written in the Book of Jashar?” (Joshua :c):
References to Extra-Biblical Books in the Bible. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
Kristin De Troyer
The Geographical Shape of the Unconquered Land in Joshua
:– mt and lxx. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51
Cornelis den Hertog
“Holy Land” in Joshua :– . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
J. Cornelis de Vos
“And the Land Was Subdued before Them . . . ”? Some Remarks on
the Meaning of ùáë in Joshua : and Related Texts . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73
Ute Neumann-Gorsolke
Conquest of the Land, Loss of the Land: Where Does Joshua 
Belong? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87
Mladen Popović
Moses’ Preparation of the March to the Holy Land: A Dialogue
with Rolf P. Knierim on Numbers :–:. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99
Horst Seebass
Understanding the Pentateuch by Structuring the Desert:
Numbers  as Compositional Joint . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 111
Christian Frevel
vi contents

From Joshua to Samuel: Some Remarks on the Origin of the Book

of Judges . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137
Klaas Spronk
Judges  Reconsidered: Which Tribes? What Land? Whose Song? . . 151
Raymond de Hoop
The Land in the Book of Hosea . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167
Gert Kwakkel
The Land in the Psalms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183
Patrick D. Miller
Reversal of a Motif: The Land Is Given into the Hand of the
Wicked. The Gift of Land in Some Wisdom Texts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197
Emke Jelmer Keulen
Tobija und Nehemia: Ihre Feindschaft und deren Motive . . . . . . . . . . . . 209
Klaus-Dietrich Schunck

part two
land in history and theology
Der heilige Ort im Leben und Glauben Altisraels . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 219
Walter Dietrich
Volk ohne Land: Überlegungen zur religiösen Neuorientierung des
jüdischen Volkes in der persischen Diaspora . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 237
Ruth Koßmann
Land and Covenant in Jubilees  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 259
Jacques T.A.G.M. van Ruiten
New Jerusalem at Qumran and in the New Testament . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277
Florentino García Martínez
The Desecration of “the Most Holy Temple of All the World” in the
“Holy Land”: Early Jewish and Early Christian Recollections of
Antiochus’ “Abomination of Desolation”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 291
George H. van Kooten
The Mountain of Transfiguration in the New Testament and in
Later Tradition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 317
Ton Hilhorst
 contents vii

Josua im Urteil einiger Freidenker . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 339

Cornelis Houtman
The Truth and Nothing but the Truth: Piety, Prophecy, and the
Hermeneutics of Suspicion in  Kings  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 355
Eep Talstra
Monotheism and Violence: How to Handle a Dangerous Biblical
Tradition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 373
Rainer Albertz
“And Jacob Set up a Pillar at Her Grave . . .”: Material Memorials
and Landmarks in the Old Testament . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 389
Rüdiger Schmitt
The Fascination for the Holy Land during the Centuries . . . . . . . . . . . . 405
C.H.J. de Geus
Bedouin Poetry and Landscape . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 415
Eveline J. van der Steen
A Bibliography of Ed Noort . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 431
Index of Ancient Sources . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 441
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

: Graded Holiness in Joshua –

: “Iosua ” aus Historiae Sacrae Veteris & Novi Testamenti (Amsterdam
), .
: Frid’Rick, “Das Wunder von Gibea (Jos :–)” aus Léo Taxil, La Bible
amusante (Paris ), .
: Section of the Madeba Mosaic Map showing Bethlehem, Ephratha, and
Ram after H. Donner, The Mosaic Map of Madeba (Kampen ), pl. B.
(courtesy of Peeters Publishers)
 PREFACE

The present volume has been compiled by colleagues and friends as a

respectful tribute to Ed Noort. It is presented to him on the occasion of
his th birthday, which coincides with his retirement as professor of the
history of religion of ancient Israel and the exegesis of the Old Testament
at the Faculty of Theology and Religious Studies of the University of
Groningen (the Netherlands).
Ed Noort was born in May , , in Haarlem (the Netherlands),
and studied theology at the Theologische Hogeschool (Reformed Theo-
logical Seminary) at Kampen (–). In  he passed there his
doctoral exam as well as his exams for the function of minister in the
Reformed Churches in the Netherlands. In  he moved to Göttin-
gen (Germany), where he broadened his studies with Semitic languages,
archaeology of the Near East, and exegesis of the Old Testament (–
). In  he accomplished his Ph.D. at the University of Göttingen
with his dissertation Gotteswort in der Krise: Untersuchungen zum Gottes-
bescheid in Mari und Israel under the supervision of Walther Zimmerli.
Ed Noort had a long career. He acted as minister of the Reformed
Church in Göttingen (–), was academic tutor of the Faculty of
Theology of the University of Göttingen (–), and was assistant
and instructor for Old Testament and the archaeology of Palestine at the
same faculty (–). He then moved back to Kampen with a short
detour to act as visiting professor of the archaeology of Palestine at the
University of Hamburg (–). In  he became professor of Old
Testament at the Theologische Hogeschool at Kampen where he stayed
until . From – he was in Hamburg again, where he was pro-
fessor of Old Testament and the archaeology of Palestine at the Faculty of
Theology. From  through  he taught the archaeological courses
(“Lehrkurse”) of the Deutsches Evangelisches Institut für Altertumswis-
senschaft in Jerusalem. From  until his retirement he was professor
of the history of religion of ancient Israel and the exegesis of the Old Tes-
tament at the Faculty of Theology and Religious Studies of the University
of Groningen (the Netherlands). During this period he stayed also for
a short period in India as visiting professor at the United Theological
College in Bangalore (during the academic year –) and in the
United States where he was visiting professor at Princeton Theological
xii preface

Seminary (). He is Honorary Professor at the University of Stellen-

bosch in South Africa (–) and member of the Koninklijke Ne-
derlandse Akademie van Wetenschappen (Royal Netherlands Academy
of Arts and Sciences) from  onwards.
Already at a young age Ed showed organizational and administrative
ambitions. From  until  he was secretary of the Congress of the
International Organization for the Study of the Old Testament which was
held in Göttingen in . From  until  he was “Stiftsinspek-
tor” of the Theologisches Stift, Göttingen. He was also president of the
“Oudtestamentisch Werkgezelschap in Nederland” (Old Testament Soci-
ety) (–) and was the chair of the Committee of Dutch and East-
ern Europe Theological Faculties and Institutes (–). During the
years – he was dean of the Faculty of Theology and Religious
Studies of the University of Groningen. In  he entered the Board of
the Royal Netherlands Academy of Arts and Sciences, where he became
vice-chair of the Board of the Humanities and Social Sciences Division
in , and foreign secretary in . At the same time he was member
of several (editorial) boards and member of many academic associations.
Ed’s personal and scholarly life can be summarized to a large exent
with the two words: water and land. He not only works and lives on the
land at the waterside, with a sailing boat in the back of his garden, but
he also wrote on the sailors (Die Seevölker in Palästina, ), and the
dangers of the waters (“The Stories of the Great Flood,” ; “Om het
menselijk geslacht te vernietigen,” ). Despite the fact that he loves
to express himself in sailing metaphors, he is really in form when land
is in sight (“Land in zicht . . .? Geloofsvisie, werkelijkheid en geschiede-
nis in het oudtestamentische spreken over het land,” ). He is espe-
cially interested in material culture and the archaeology of Palestine, a
field which is included in the descriptions of the teaching commitment
of his chair in Hamburg and Groningen. It was also an important theme
in his inaugural lecture in Kampen (Bijbels-archeologische hermeneutiek
en de uitleg van het Oude Testament, ), and many scholarly publica-
tions were devoted to it. His love for the land of Israel and its history is
also expressed in his lifelong journey with the book of Joshua (many of
his publications are devoted to this book), the editon of a travel guide of
Israel, a project he took over from H.H. Grosheide after his death (Israël
en de westelijke Jordaanoever: Een werkboek voor Palestinareizigers, ),
and his study tours with theological students in the Middle East. Ed’s
interest for the land of Israel was always accompanied with a profound
interest in the theology and the hermeneutic of the Old Testament (see,
 preface xiii

e.g, “JHWH und das Böse,” ; “Het Ik-Zijn van JHWH,” ; “Der
Dekalog und die Theologie im Alten Testament,” ). He loves to dis-
cuss about methodological aspects of his field and is keen on paradigm
shifts. During his academic life, Ed remained faithful to his vocation.
From the beginning until today he is preaching within the Reformed
Church in the Netherlands and abroad. His profound preaching medi-
tations are included in his bibliography.
It seems therefore most appropriate to the editors to focus this Fest-
schrift around the axes of land, Joshua, history, and theology. In the first
part, the concept of land in relation to the book of Joshua and other books
of the Old Testament is the central issue. Several contributions are also
dedicated to the reception history of the book of Joshua, especially in the
Septuagint. In the second part, the concept of land in relation to history
and theology is central, and several of the contributions focus on the
archeology of Palestine.
It is as colleagues and as friends that we present this collection of essays
to Ed, and we wish him and his family many more years of health and
happiness.

Jacques T.A.G.M. van Ruiten

J. Cornelis de Vos
 LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS

Rainer Albertz, Professor Emeritus of Old Testament and Senior Pro-

fessor in the Cluster of Excellence “Religion and Politics in Pre-Modern
and Modern Cultures,” Faculty of Protestant Theology, University of
Münster, Germany

Kristin De Troyer, Professor of Old Testament/Hebrew Bible, School

of Divinity, University of St Andrews, Scotland, Great Britain

Walter Dietrich, Professor of Old Testament, Faculty of Theology,

University of Bern, Switzerland

Christian Frevel, Professor of Old Testament, Faculty of Catholic

Theology, Ruhr-University, Bochum, Germany

Florentino García Martínez, Professor Emeritus of Religion and Lit-

erature of Early Judaism, Faculty of Theology and Religious Studies, Uni-
versity of Groningen, the Netherlands, and Research Professor Emeritus,
Catholic University of Louvain, Belgium

C.H.J. de Geus, Senior Lecturer Emeritus in Hebrew and Archaeology,

Faculty of Arts, University of Groningen, the Netherlands

Cornelis G. den Hertog, Minister in the Protestant Church in the

Netherlands, Koudekerke, the Netherlands

Antony Hilhorst, Senior Lecturer Emeritus in New Testament and

Early Christian Studies, Faculty of Theology and Religious Studies, Uni-
versity of Groningen, the Netherlands

Raymond de Hoop, Research Fellow, Department of Ancient Lan-

guages, University of Pretoria, South Africa

Cornelis Houtman, Professor Emeritus of Old Testament, Protestant

Theological University Kampen, the Netherlands
xvi list of contributors

Emke Jelmer Keulen, Minister in the Protestant Church in the Nether-

lands, Heeg, the Netherlands

George H. van Kooten, Professor of New Testament and Early Chris-

tian Studies, Faculty of Theology and Religious Studies, University of
Groningen, the Netherlands

Ruth Koßmann, Vicaresse, Congregation Duisburg-Meiderich, Protes-

tant Church in the Rhineland, Germany

Gert Kwakkel, Professor of Old Testament, Theological University of

the Reformed Churches in the Netherlands (Liberated), Kampen, The
Netherlands.

Theo A.W. van der Louw, Translation Consultant, Summer Institute of

Linguistics, currently based in the Netherlands

Michaël N. van der Meer, Postdoc Researcher Old Testament, Leiden

Institute of Religious Studies, Leiden University, the Netherlands

Patrick D. Miller, Professor Emeritus of Old Testament Theology,

Princeton Theological Seminary, Princeton, New Jersey, USA

Ute Neumann-Gorsolke, Lecturer in Old Testament, Department of

Protestant Theology, Faculty of Humanities, University of Hamburg,
Germany

Mladen Popović, Postdoc Researcher in the Dead Sea Scrolls, Faculty

of Theology and Religious Studies, University of Groningen, the Nether-
lands

Jacques van Ruiten, Senior Lecturer in Old Testament and Early Juda-
ism, Faculty of Theology and Religious Studies, University of Groningen,
the Netherlands

Rüdiger Schmitt, Research Group Leader, Cluster of Excellence “Reli-

gion and Politics in Pre-Modern and Modern Cultures,” University of
Münster, Germany
 list of contributors xvii

Klaus-Dietrich Schunck, Professor Emeritus of Old Testament, Fac-

ulty of Theology, University of Rostock, Germany

Horst Seebass, Professor Emeritus of Old Testament, Faculty of Protes-

tant Theology, University of Bonn, Germany

Klaas Spronk, Professor of Old Testament, Protestant Theological Uni-

versity, Kampen, the Netherlands

Eveline J. van der Steen, Honorary Research Fellow, School of Archae-

ology, Classics and Egyptology, University of Liverpool, Great Britain

Eep Talstra, Professor of Old Testament, Faculty of Theology, Free

University, Amsterdam, the Netherlands

J. Cornelis de Vos, Lecturer in New Testament and Judaism, Institutum

Judaicum Delitzschianum, Faculty of Protestant Theology, University of
Münster, Germany
 part one

LAND IN JOSHUA AND OTHER

PARTS OF THE OLD TESTAMENT
 TRANSLATOR’S COMPETENCE AND
INTENTION IN LXX-JOSHUA 2*

Theo A.W. van der Louw

The Greek Joshua has attracted some of the best minds during the past
century.1 Since scholars seek challenges, their studies often deal either
with the book as a whole, its most difficult passages, or its most bewil-
dering features. But how can we avoid the circular reasoning that easily
clings to such ambitious approaches? For this article, I therefore took the
opposite route, hoping that the discussion of some “omissions” in a rel-
atively easy chapter (Joshua ) would yield clues for the more difficult
parts of the book and for clearing up some general issues. I follow the
method I outlined elsewhere.2
Let us begin with the Greek text and ask what impression it must have
made on contemporaries. First of all, the majority of the narrative clauses
begin with κα. In other words, the syntax is pervaded by co-ordination
or parataxis. In Koine Greek, parataxis was usual in simple narrative style,
but not to this extent. It was deemed inelegant in Greek with its elabo-
rate system of hypotaxis. Especially disturbing are the cases of apodotic
κα (:, a). Second, the word order (verb-subject-object) deviates sys-
tematically from normal Greek word order, where it is limited to verba
dicendi.3 Third, many items are unnatural or unnaturally frequent, such
as λγων “saying” (and its declensions) introducing direct speech4 (:,

* It is a pleasure to dedicate this article to Ed Noort, a Gelehrter und Mensch in the

true sense of the word.
1 For a survey, see M.N. van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation: The Redaction of

the Book of Joshua in the Light of the Oldest Textual Witnesses (VTSup ; Leiden ),
–.
2 T.A.W. van der Louw, Transformations in the Septuagint: Towards an Interaction of

Septuagint Studies and Translation Studies (CBET ; Louvain ), esp. –; idem,
“Linguistic or Ideological Shifts? The Problem-Oriented Study of Transformations as a
Methodological Filter,” in Scripture in Transition: Essays on Septuagint, Hebrew Bible, and
Dead Sea Scrolls in Honour of Raija Sollamo (ed. A. Voitila and J. Jokiranta; JSJSup ;
Leiden ), –.
3 F. Blass, A. Debrunner, and F. Rehkopf, Grammatik des neutestamentlichen Grie-

chisch (th rev. ed.; Göttingen ), §  (henceforth “BDR”).

4 The pleonastic use of λγων “saying” after a verb of saying, e.g.
φη λγων “he spoke,
 theo a.w. van der louw

, , ), the resumptive pleonastic pronoun5 (:, ), repetition of pos-

sessive pronouns with co-ordinated items6 (:, ), strange use of the
preposition ν7 (:), the semipreposition π προσπου “from the
face of ”8 (:, ), nominal clauses9 (:, , ), δικω “to follow”
followed by πσω “behind” instead of a direct object (:, , ), κ-
ζητω “to search” without direct object10 (:), μνυμι “to swear” with
τι instead of an infinitive construction, unnatural participant tracking11
(:, ), unknown expressions (:a), the pleonastic collocation γ Α-
γ πτος “the land of Egypt”12 (:), and transcribed names that are not
adapted to Greek morphology,13 to mention only a few. Fourth, many fea-
tures that are typical of idiomatic Greek are absent from Joshua . As a
specimen of what to expect in an original Greek text, I have chosen Jose-
phus’ account of the same story (Ant. .–), a section of equal length.14
Even if we allow that Josephus wrote in the Attic style,15 the compari-

saying,” has parallels in Classical Greek (LSJ , sub III,). Its frequency in the lxx,
however, is a stylistic Hebraism (BDR § ).
5 R. Sollamo, “The Pleonastic Use of the Pronoun in Connection with the Relative

Pronoun in the Greek Pentateuch,” in VII Congress of the IOSCS, Leuven  (ed.
C.E. Cox; SBLSCS ; Atlanta ), –.
6 R. Sollamo, “The Koine Background for the Repetition and Non-Repetition of the

Possessive Pronoun in Co-Ordinate Items,” in Studien zur Septuaginta, Robert Hanhart zu

Ehren (ed. D. Fraenkel et al.; MSU ; Göttingen ), –. On the lxx-Pentateuch,
see R. Sollamo, Repetition of the Possessive Pronoun in the Septuagint (SBLSCS ; Atlanta
).
7 In e.g. Gen :, , and Judg : (though a more literal book) this Hebraism is

avoided.
8 R. Sollamo, Renderings of Hebrew Semiprepositions in the Septuagint (AASF ;

Helsinki ), –, ; BDR § .

9 They are probably boundary cases of the categories where Greek permits omission

of the copula στν, cf. H.W. Smyth, Greek Grammar (Cambridge, Mass., ), § ;
BDR § .
10 Π#σας τ$ς %δο ς is an accusative of extent (Smyth, Greek Grammar, § ; BDR

§ ).
11 Ο' (νδρες (:) refers back incorrectly to the spies who have been called (νδρες in

:, , , ,  and who are the last participants mentioned before v. . In v. , α*το refers
to the pursuers, grammatically.
12 A TLG search reveals that it only occurs in literature dependent on the lxx, such as

Philo, the NT and ecclesiastical writers, but not in Josephus’ works.

13 E.g. Σαττιν, Ναυη (sounds feminine), Ιεριχω, Ρααβ, Σηων, Ωγ; Josephus (see

below) systematically offers naturalized transcriptions, e.g. 3Ρα#βη, 3Ιεριχο4ς, 5Ελε#ζα-

ρος, and omits names he considers irrelevant.
14 It counts  words, as opposed to  for lxx-Josh .
15 M. Harl, “L’originalité lexicale de la version grecque du Deutéronome (lxx) et la

“paraphrase” de Flavius Josèphe (A.J. IV, –),” in VIII Congress of the IOSCS, Paris
 (ed. L. Greenspoon and O. Munnich; SBLSCS ; Atlanta ), .
 translator’s competence and intention in lxx-joshua  

son is instructive. Although the number of subordinate conjunctions is

comparable in both texts,16 that does not imply the same degree of subor-
dination. Participium coniunctum, for example, attested in nearly every
sentence written by Josephus, occurs only in vv. , , ,  of lxx-Joshua
. The genitive absolute, which pervades Josephus’ story, occurs not even
once in Joshua . The same holds true for particles like μν . . . δ and
τ . . . κα and others, which could have been employed profitably in
Joshua . Discontinuous structures, frequent with Josephus, are absent
from Joshua . Proper names systematically lack the anaphoric article,
contrary to Greek grammar.
Our conclusion, after this far from exhaustive enumeration, is that
Joshua  must have impressed the Greek reader as very exotic.17 The
text, stiff with Hebraisms, cannot be linked anyhow to the styles defined
by Demetrius of Phaleron in De elocutione.18 Thackeray’s judgement
that “Joshua (part)” constitutes “good κοιν7 Greek” does not apply to
Joshua .19
Seen in this light, it is strange that some scholars extol the translator’s
competence. Den Hertog, for example, states that the translator was very
competent in the execution of his task.20 What was the competence, we
might ask, of a translator who did not or could not write two idiomatic
Greek sentences in succession and whose text defies the basics of ancient
grammatica?21 That his vocabulary is normal Greek and his use of tenses

16 Josh : ε (:, , ), 8ως (:), 9ς (:, , ), πρ:ν ; (:), τε (:), τι (:,

, , ), as opposed to Ant. .–: ε (.), πε (., ), <νκα (.), =να (.),
πως (.), τε (., , ), 9ς (., , ).
17 Compare the words of a professor of Greek literature and papyri: “Die Vokabeln

sind griechisch, sonst aber ist die Sprache wie eine völlig fremde Sprache.” This judge-
ment, quoted by I. Soisalon-Soininen, “Übersetzen—der Sprache Gewalt antun,” in VIII
Congress of the IOSCS, –, would be an apt evaluation of Joshua .
18 What is said about lxx-Gen  in Van der Louw, Transformations, –, holds

equally true for lxx-Josh .

19 H.St.J. Thackeray, A Grammar of the Old Testament in Greek (Cambridge ), .

In my view, Thackeray positioned Joshua vis-à-vis other lxx-books, not vis-à-vis original
Greek writing.
20 C.G. den Hertog, Studien zur griechischen Übersetzung des Buches Josua (Giessen

), . Similarly S. Sipilä, “The Septuagint Version of Joshua –,” in VII Congress
of the IOSCS, , but later he changed his opinion, as witnesses Between Literalness and
Freedom. Translation Technique in the Septuagint of Joshua and Judges regarding the Clause
Connections Introduced by å and éë (Publications of the Finnish Exegetical Society ;
Göttingen ).
21 Van der Louw, Transformations, –, .
 theo a.w. van der louw

is grammatical22 is not enough to earn insignia. If we browse through

the literature, the following characteristics are mentioned as signs of
competence: the translator’s grasp of Hebrew, creative exegesis, accurate
equivalents of words, variation in rendering the same Hebrew word, and
the occasional use of “good free renderings.”
Are Septuagint scholars equipped to pronounce judgements on the
translator’s competence? I think not. They lack a model for competence
assessment, and of what has been done in the field of translation studies23
they are largely ignorant. The professed admiration for Joshua’s translator
has no scholarly basis, but is rather a scholar’s self-congratulation on the
worthiness of his research topic.24
As a way out, some scholars distinguish between the man and his prod-
uct: the translator was very competent, but unfortunately the translation
does not show it. According to Sipilä, occasional “good free renderings”
reveal the translator’s competence, but his method of translating by small
segments and literalism as an “easy technique” were bound to result in
Hebraistic Greek.25 Although the distinction between the man and his
product is a valid one, it raises a question that Sipilä does not pose. If
the translator “knew how to translate properly,” then why did he let his
competence be hampered by the procedure of segmentation?
Moatti-Fine tries to locate the answer in the translator’s intention. She
stresses the readability of the translation, which is “due à la precision
du vocabulaire mais aussi à la stabilité des équivalences qui ponctuent
le texte de repères.”26 She admits that “la syntaxe est calqué sur le modèle
hébreu: ordre des mots, parataxe des propositions, successions d’infinitifs
non coordonnés, usage de prépositions, tours idiomatiques.”27 But pre-
ciseness in meaning and syntactic literalism go well together. Accord-

22 Cf. the use of the perfect in :, , , ,  and its interchange with the aorist; cf. also
the use of the imperfect in v. .
23 A survey is found in B.E. Dimitrova, Expertise and Explicitation in the Translation

Process (BTL ; Amsterdam ).

24 Cf. the mindset expressed by T. Muraoka, “Recent Discussions on Septuagint Lex-

icography with Respect to the So-Called Interlinear Model,” in Die Septuaginta: Texte,
Kontexte, Lebenswelten (ed. M. Karrer and W. Kraus; WUNT ; Tübingen ), :
“I feel rather sorry for those who have a rather low view of the lxx and nonetheless make
it an object of their intellectual endeavour.”
25 Sipilä, Between Literalness and Freedom, , , , , etc.
26 J. Moatti-Fine, Jésus (Josué): Traduction du texte grec de la Septante. Introduction et

notes (La Bible d’Alexandrie ; Paris ), . I would like to ask, readability for which
reader?
27 Moatti-Fine, Jésus (Josué), –.
 translator’s competence and intention in lxx-joshua  

ing to Moatti-Fine, the Greek Joshua is a readable text that arouses the
reader’s affection perhaps through the impression of foreignness. There-
fore, the instances of literalism that are not syntactic should be under-
stood in aesthetic terms, just as literally translated but comprehensible
metaphors. Modern translators work differently, as most of them aim
for naturalness.28 Moatti-Fine concludes that the Joshua translator did
not adhere to the source language passively. Rather, he actively marked
his target text with a Hebraic stamp.29 In other words, the translator
was deliberately creating a foreignizing text. This notion Moatti-Fine has
derived from authors like Walter Benjamin30 and Henri Meschonnic.31
A similar position is taken, with respect to the Septuagint as a whole,
by Alexis Léonas.32 He denies that the peculiarities of lxx Greek “should
be attributed to a linguistic system extraneous to Greek: they can more
plausibly be described as manifestations of a specific style.”33 According
to Léonas, the lxx translators attempted to write in the hieratic style, as
he calls it. This concept expresses “l’idée de manipulation préméditée de
la langue pour dire le sacré.”34
Not only is this a non sequitur in a book concerned with reception
history rather than the translation process,35 but the term “hieratic style,”
which sounds more historical than it is, covers up an anachronistic
language view. With the French version of Benjamin’s “Die Aufgabe des
Übersetzers” figuring in his bibliography, Léonas claims that the lxx
translators deliberately created a foreignizing text, intended to convey
sacredness. Now Benjamin’s  essay36 has achieved a cult status in

28 Moatti-Fine, Jésus (Josué), , quotes Meschonnic’s denouncement of modern trans-

lators who smoothe out “l’organisation rhythmique des signifiants.”
29 Moatti-Fine, Jésus (Josué), .
30 The relevant section in Moatti-Fine, Jésus (Josué), –, is titled “La “tâche du

traducteur” ” with a reference to Benjamin’s famous article (see below). Her article, “La
“tâche du traducteur” de Josué/Jésus,” in Κατ τος : Selon les Septante. Trente études
sur la Bible grecque des Septante en hommage à Marguerite Harl (eds. G. Dorival and
O. Munnich; Paris ), –, despite its title, does not draw on Benjamin’s essay.
31 See, for example, A. Nouss, “La réception de l’essai sur la traduction dans le domaine

français,” online at http://www.erudit.org/revue/ttr//v/n / ar.pdf ( July,

).
32 A. Léonas, Recherches sur le langage de la Septante (OBO ; Fribourg ).
33 Léonas, Recherches, author’s abstract.
34 Léonas, Recherches, .
35 See my review of Léonas, Recherches, in JSJ  () –.
36 W. Benjamin, “Die Aufgabe des Übersetzers,” in Das Problem des Übersetzens (ed.

H.J. Störig; Wege der Forschung ; Darmstadt ), –; trans. as “The Task of the
Translator,” in The Translation Studies Reader (ed. L. Venuti; London ), –.
 theo a.w. van der louw

the Francophone world thanks to its reception by philosophers, notably

Derrida.37 This explains Moatti-Fine’s and Léonas’ familiarity with it,
but Benjamin cannot serve to explain the textual make-up of the Greek
Joshua. This is because Benjamin is an heir to German Romanticism and
its revolutionary view of language, which found its classical expression
in Schleiermacher’s famous speech.38
The German Romantics coined their view of language in conscious
opposition to the French cultural imperialism in the Age of Classicism
and Enlightenment (which also explains why German Romantics serve
French [post-]existentialists so well). The “domesticating” theory and
practice of translating prevalent in France were a heritage of Antiquity.
According to the ancients, words refer to something outside language
(verbum est signum rei). In contrast, the Romantics held that language
is expression of the individual. Language was no longer considered an
instrument, but a universe in which the individual relates to itself. From
the exclusive concentration on the individual, Schleiermacher drew the
conclusion that there could be only one legitimate translation method.
Thus, he rejected the traditional genre division into historia, poetica et
rhetorica, with the different translation methods the ancients applied to
them. He also denied the traditional distinction between form and con-
tent: “Gedanke und Ausdruck sind ganz dasselbe.”39 Form and content
are deliberate expressions of the author’s genius and reflect his innermost
feelings. Therefore, translation is not the transfer of semantic meaning,
but the transfer of the author’s feelings. Only one method does justice to
that: foreignizing translation. Translating as naturally as the author would
have done, had he mastered the target language, is an utter impossibility.
According to Schleiermacher, the ancients and the moderns (the French)
have never translated in the real sense.40
Walter Benjamin, like his contemporaries Buber and Rosenzweig,
echoes Schleiermacher’s view of language and translation,41 and so does
Meschonnic. This Romantic view of language and translation did not

37 J. Munday, Introducing Translation Studies: Theories and Applications (London

), –, .

38 F. Schleiermacher, “Ueber die verschiedenen Methoden des Uebersetzens,” in Das

Problem des Übersetzens (ed. H.J. Störig), –. The following section is a summary of
T.A.W. van der Louw, “Vertalen volgens de Duitse romantiek (Schleiermacher, Buber) en
soorten letterlijkheid,” Kerk en Theologie  () –.
39 Schleiermacher, “Ueber die verschiedenen Methoden des Uebersetzens,” .
40 The Romantic view of language and translation was a cornerstone for the German

emancipation from the French cultural and political hegemony.

41 W. Sdun, Probleme und Theorien des Übersetzens in Deutschland vom . bis zum
 translator’s competence and intention in lxx-joshua  

exist in Antiquity and, hence, we cannot ascribe a “foreignizing aesthetic”

to the Septuagint translators. This illustrates that an a priori belief in
the translator’s competence can lead to unfounded theories about his
intention. If we stop talking about the translator’s competence we no
longer need to tell ourselves that the textual make-up of lxx-Joshua is
the logical outcome of the translator’s intention.42
As “competence” and “intention” are such important pillars in theo-
rizing about the Septuagint, it is obvious that both concepts are equally
susceptible to modern misinterpretation. We just saw that an unsubstan-
tiated belief in the translator’s competence made him end up as a German
Romantic in French post-war dress. With respect to the translator’s inten-
tion, a similar thing happens. For example, when Emanuel Tov discusses
the paradox that the Joshua translator often renders his parent text quite
literally, which shows faithfulness to the source, but that lxx-Joshua also
has many, sometimes significant “omissions,” he says: “it is not feasible for
one translator to have faithfully rendered the text and at the same time
omit significant elements. Moreover, no principle can be detected for a
supposed shortening by the translator.”43 What Tov expresses here is his
own western view of translation. If the Joshua translator rose from his
grave, he would quote Ps :, “you thought that I was one just like your-
self!” I readily believe that a Hebrew University professor would never
translate a text literally and at the same time omit significant elements,
but that does not make it unthinkable. On the contrary, it is very imagin-
able! Literal translation is always the easiest and fastest method. Omitting
elements is also easy and fast, so it combines perfectly well with literal-
ism.

Let us consider some examples of transformations that are relevant to the

question of the translator’s competence and intention, before focussing
on omissions.
In :, ïë øîàúå is rendered as κα: ε>πεν α*το?ς λγουσα “and she said
to them, saying.” The translator did not render ïë as ο@τως “thus” (its
normal counterpart). Instead, he produced the quotation formula with

. Jahrhundert (München ), –; D. Weissbort and A. Eysteinsson, Translation—

Theory and Practice: A Historical Reader (Oxford ), .
42 I concur with the caveats expressed by A. Aejmelaeus, “Translation Technique and

the Intention of the Translator,” in VII Congress of the IOSCS, –.

43 E. Tov, “The Growth of the Book of Joshua in Light of the Evidence of the Sep-

tuagint,” in The Greek and Hebrew Bible: Collected Essays on the Septuagint (VTSup ;
Leiden ), ; repr. from ScrHier  () –.
 theo a.w. van der louw

λγων “saying” he knew so well from the Pentateuch.44 The same we find
in :. In mt, Rahab says that the Israelites went out íéøöîî, but lxx
renders κ γς Αγ πτου “from the land of Egypt.” As an explicitation
it is superfluous. It is the translator’s familiarity with the Pentateuch
and its phraseology which made him produce a Hebraistic rendering
here.
There are indications that the translator, who probably knew the book
of Joshua well exegetically, was not aware of linguistic problems involved
in translation. Again in :, the rendering of ïë øîàúå as κα: ε>πεν
α*το?ς λγουσα is telling. The translator added α*το?ς to give ε>πεν
an indirect object (as he did in :a), but it causes confusion. Rahab
is talking here to the king’s agents, but the antecedent of α*το?ς is
τοAς (νδρας “the men,” i.e. the spies! It is improbable that íäì was
in the translator’s Vorlage.45 Rather, he translated segment by segment.
Apparently he wanted to make α*το?ς refer to the king’s agents, and that
seemed fine within the boundaries of the segment. But he did not see that
his intended antecedent was not in the written text, and the antecedent
from the previous segment had slipped from his short term memory, with
an error as a result.
Already the next verse hosts a similar case. In : occurs an un-Greek
apodotic κα “and.” Normally such cases occur where the length of the
protasis made the translator lose contact with the sentence construction.
But here the protasis is short! That the translator even here lost contact
with the sentence construction points to a memory untrained for either
translation or oral interpretation. For two reasons I consider it unlikely
that the translator employed apodotic κα, both in : and :,46 on
purpose. First, we just saw that in : he inserted an erroneous pronoun
because he lost touch with the previous segment. Second, the translator
sometimes avoided apodotic κα, e.g in :.47 Departure from the usual

44 The claim that Hebraisms not rooted in mt necessarily point to a different Vorlage

(E. Tov, The Text-Critical Use of the Septuagint in Biblical Research [d ed.; Jerusalem
Biblical Studies ; Jerusalem ], –) is all-too rigid.
45 S. Holmes, Joshua: The Hebrew and Greek Texts (Cambridge ), , recognizes

this, but his own reconstruction is too ingenious to convince. He overlooked the syntactic
problem in Greek.
46 I take κα: γνετο 9ς (:) as the beginning of the temporal clause, and κα: α*τ

νβη . . . (:) as apodosis, cf. Moatti-Fine, Jésus (Josué), , who observes, “La con-
struction de la phrase grecque est embarassée.” I do not agree with Sipilä, Between Liter-
alness and Freedom, , who proposes to regard κα: α*το: δ as apodosis (anacoluthon).
47 Cf. further, Sipilä, Between Literalness and Freedom, –.
 translator’s competence and intention in lxx-joshua  

strategy of literalism is more likely to be intentional than his usual

literalism resulting in Hebraisms.48
For a wider view of the competence question, I took a sample of  lxx
minuses and two lxx pluses.49 When a minus was more easily explained
as a translator’s omission than as a scribal addition in mt, I looked for
the rationale. It appears that these  cases under review testify to five
different concerns on the part of the translator.

. One omission flows from the

concern to avoid ungrammatical Greek.

:: The causal clause lacks a copula, τι κ ριος % Bες CμDν Bες ν
ο*ρανED (νω . . . “because the Lord your God [is] God in heaven above
. . . ” In general or proverbial statements, Greek permits the omission
of a copula,50 and Rahab’s confession could be considered as a general
statement. Hebrew does have a copula here, viz. a d person pronoun
(àåä) serving as such.
In comparable passages, we find roughly two alternatives.51 There are
literal renderings, e.g. in Deut :, κα: γνσFη τι κ ριος % BεGς σου
οτος BεGς “and you will know that the Lord your God he [is] God.”
A freer solution is attested in Ps  ():, γνDτε τι κ ριος α*τGς
στιν % BεGς “and you will know that the Lord he is God.” The literal
rendering of àåä with α*τGς was not deemed natural enough, and was
supplied by στν “is” (cf. Deut :). A literal option always first suggests
itself. In this case, that would have suited the translator’s strategy, but he
dismissed it, probably because he found it awkward. He did not replace
the pronoun with στν or retain the pronoun and add στν, which other

48 Cf. Aejmelaeus, “Intention of the Translator,” –.

49 I excluded lxx minuses that are rather mt pluses, like : (éðù, probably a scribal
addition that makes the phrase refer unequivocally to the spies instead of the king’s
messengers), those that can equally well be mt pluses: : (äîä ïéàî éúòãé àìå); : (åëìéå
ïåìçá . . .) and those that deserve extensive discussion: : (íëéðôî . . . åâîð éëå); : (äéäå);
:,  (åðúòáùä øùà).
50 Smyth, Greek Grammar, § ; BDR § .
51 I restricted my search to credal formulas, and also excluded cases with d person

pronouns, as these practically demand a form of ε>ναι ( Kgdms :;  Kgdms :; Isa
: etc.). For a wider survey, see I. Soisalon-Soininen, “Die Wiedergabe des hebräischen
Personalpronomens als Subjekt im griechischen Pentateuch,” in Studien zur Septuaginta-
Syntax, –. He also stresses that omission was certainly not the natural impulse of the
lxx translators ().
 theo a.w. van der louw

lxx translators did. The Joshua translator thus stands apart by having
taken the easiest solution, omission.

. The translator sometimes omits phrases where a literal

rendering would cause a problem of logic or consistency.

:: Throughout the Septuagint, äp!ä is rendered as δο “look!,” but here it
is omitted. The NIV rendering shows why: “Look! Some of the Israelites
have come here tonight to spy out the land.” When äp!ä is rendered as
“look!” or “see!,” it has to fit into the context. But here it does not, for
there is nothing to “see.” The king does not see the spies, he is just told
about them.
:: The problem that prompted the translator to omit äìéìä is hinted
at by Ahituv. He says that äìéìä does not mean “night” in strictu senso,
because Rahab tells the king that the spies left before the gates closed at
dusk. “The word äìéì can refer here to the period before nightfall as it
does in Ruth :.”52 In Greek, such a use of ν ξ “night” is anomalous. The
translator could have chosen words for “in the evening,” like τFI JσπρKα,
ψας (the word Josephus uses), or otherwise,53 but he devoted no energy
to an alternative rendering. Probably he considered that, to the king, the
presence of spies was more alarming than their time of arrival.
The fact that τν ν κτα “at night” does appear in :, without counter-
part in mt, has led the few scholars who mention these two variants to
consider them together.54 It is likely that the lxx translator is responsible
for both, although Margolis’ explanation (confusion of ìéìä and êéìà)
seems far-fetched.55 I think that the translator, who consciously dropped
“night” in :, realized that he could not miss it. Without any word for
“night,” readers would picture the actions in broad daylight, and Rahab’s

52 S. Ahituv, Joshua: Introduction and Commentary (Miqra leYisrael; Tel Aviv ),
. See also Gen :.
53 Gute Nachricht (henceforth GN) has “Noch am selben Abend wurde dem König

von Jericho gemeldet . . .”

54 J.P. Floss, Kunden oder Kundschafter? Literaturwissenschaftliche Untersuchung zu Jos

. I. Text, Schichtung, Überlieferung (ATSAT ; St. Ottilien ), –, who sees (here
as in many other passages) a Hebrew editor reworking the more original lxx Vorlage;
M.L. Margolis, The Book of Joshua in Greek: According to the Critically Restored Text with
an Apparatus Containing the Variants of the Principal Recensions and of the Individual
Witnesses, Part  (Publications of the Alexander Kohut Memorial Foundation; Paris
), –.
55 Margolis, The Book of Joshua in Greek, .
 translator’s competence and intention in lxx-joshua  

mention of the closure of the gates in : would come as a surprise. The
translator could place τν ν κτα very naturally in the mouth of the king’s
agents, speaking about the arrival time of a prostitute’s customers.56
:: Whereas mt reads óåñ­íé éî­úà äåäé ùéáåä­éë, lxx has τι κατε-
ξ7ρανεν κ ριος % Bες τν ρυBρ$ν B#λασσαν (omitting “water”). The
Septuagint translator did not say that “the Lord dried up the water of
the Red Sea,” probably because that borders on an oxymoron. Καταξηρ-
ανω/-ος does not normally collocate with @δωρ.
:: According to mt, the spies stayed in the mountains for three days,
“until the pursuers returned. The pursuers searched all along the road but
did not find them.” The clause in italics is missing from the Septuagint.
The mt verse has two logical problems, () how could the hiding spies
know that the pursuers had returned?, and () the search is mentioned
after the return of the pursuers.57 A translator who omits the clause “until
the pursuers returned” kills these two birds with one stone. Conversely, if
we ascribe the clause to a Hebrew editor, as many do, we should explain
why he introduced these obvious problems in the immediate context,
where his alleged aim was to “harmonize” with :.

. The translator avoids literal renderings that cause

misunderstandings or interpretation problems.

:: Following Joshua’s commission, mt reads, “they went and entered the
house of a prostitute.” lxx has a plus, “having gone, the two young men
entered Jericho and entered the house of a prostitute woman.” Scholars
who believe that the Septuagint reflects a longer Hebrew text assume
that a copyist omitted the phrase because repeated åàáéå caused para-
blepsis.58 Bieberstein aptly observes that the double åàáéå (in the recon-
struction) cannot be interpreted as resumptive wayyiqtol, but is rather a
“Dopplung,” reflecting a secondary growth of the text (in lxx).59 Besides,

56 For the question why the translator did not go back to restore “night” at its expected

place (:), cf. T.A.W. van der Louw, “The Dictation of the Septuagint Version,” JSJ 
() –.
57 GN solves it with a pluperfect, ‘Die Wächter hatten alle Wege . . . abgesucht, aber

niemand gefunden.’
58 They reconstruct åàáéå åçøé ìà íéùðàä éðù åàáéå åëìéå*, cf., summarizing, K. Bieber-

stein, Josua—Jordan—Jericho: Archäologie, Geschichte und Theologie der Landnahmeer-

zählungen Josua – (OBO ; Freiburg ), .
59 Bieberstein, Josua—Jordan—Jericho, .
 theo a.w. van der louw

it is easy to see why this piece of condensed story-telling in mt would

disturb a translator, for it suggests disobedience: the spies ignore their
task but go straightaway to a prostitute. Therefore the lxx translator
slowed the narration down by inserting a clause about the arrival in
Jericho: εσ7λBοσαν ο' δ ο νεανσκοι ες Ιεριχω “the two young men
entered Jericho.” This verse hosts another illustration of the lxx tendency
to screen the spies, who are said to “lodge there” (lxx), not to “sleep
there” (mt, with sexual overtones). Two such examples in one verse
point to a translator at work. Modern versions deal with this problem
in a similar way. Nieuwe Bijbelvertaling (NBV) split the sentence: “De
mannen vertrokken. Toen ze in Jericho waren gekomen, . . . ” (“The
men left. When they had arrived in Jericho, . . . ”), and similarly Gute
Nachricht (GN).
:: The translator replaced íéùðàä ìà with πρς α*το ς “to them”
because literal ο' (νδρες “the men” would suggest a participant change,
and the spies have already been referred to with pronouns in :.
:: RSV renders mt as follows, “Now then, swear to me by the Lord
that as I have dealt kindly with you, you also will deal kindly with my
father’s house, and give me a sure sign, . . . ” The clause in italics is miss-
ing from lxx. Many scholars believe that lxx reflects a shorter Vorlage60
and that the clause in question was added by a Hebrew scribe, either “to
anticipate v.  where the scarlet cord is given to Rahab by the spies” and
where úà was misread as úåà (Holmes) or to anticipate v.  where the
spies promise to do úîà (Bieberstein). Bieberstein finds a lxx shortening
improbable, because he sees no trigger for an inadvertent omission.61 The
truth, however, is that the clause in question poses problems to transla-
tors. First, Bieberstein himself remarks that it is unclear whether úîà úåà
refers to the oath or to the red cord. Translators have often tried to con-
nect it to v. , so Vulgate Ms., “detisque mihi verum signum, ut salvetis
. . . ” (cf. NJPS). This solution was not accessible to the lxx translator be-
cause of the segmentation, which allows connections backward, not for-
ward. Another solution that lay beyond his horizon was the generaliza-
tion of úîà úåà into “something” (CEV) or “certainty” (NBV). These ver-
sions show there is a problem to tackle. Second, it is not at all clear from
v.  that it is the spies who give the red cord to Rahab, as Holmes claims.
It is not what emerges from the syntactically ambiguous lxx rendering
of v. . Omission rids the translator of an interpretational difficulty.

60 From Holmes, Joshua, –, to Bieberstein, Josua—Jordan—Jericho, .

61 Bieberstein, Josua—Jordan—Jericho, .
 translator’s competence and intention in lxx-joshua  

. If a translator feels that a (non-)literal translation of

a culture-specific item does not make sense to the intended
audience, he will often omit it, generally speaking.62

:: lxx has “and she let them down through the window,” and lacks
v. b with the location of Rahab’s house in/on/at63 the city wall. A scribal
addition of v. b is not easily explained on the Hebrew side.64 Bieber-
stein’s explanation that the Iron Age conditions of a casemate wall were
no longer understood by Hellenistic Jews, which made the translator
omit v. b, matches findings from translation studies (note ). The
Joshua translator may have reasoned that the remaining v. a presup-
poses “ein Wohnen Rahabs an der Stadtmauer . . . , denn ein Abseilen aus
dem Fenster wäre innerhalb der Stadt sinnlos.”65

. The translator omits redundant words or phrases.

There is no loss of meaning, because these words repeat something
that is implicitly or explicitly present in the context.

:: ùøç “secretly” is not represented by a Greek word. It is said to have

lacked from the lxx Vorlage,66 but is attested in all Hebrew manuscripts.
If a Hebrew editor added it as a gloss, what was his problem? The word
for “spies,” íéìâøî, was clear enough. Why would an editor gloss it with
the rare ùøç? The problem is rather translational. Κατασκοπε ω “to spy
out” already implies secrecy, and hence ùøç is made implicit in lxx and
modern Bible versions.
:: mt has a redundant clause êúéáì åàá­øùà êéìà íéàáä íéùðàä,
which scholars consider a conflate reading. But the fact that lxx has τοAς
(νδρας τοAς εσπεπορευμνους ες τν οκαν σου “the men who have
entered your house” does not prove that its Vorlage had a shorter text.67
The lxx translator condensed the redundancy of his parent text, as recent

62 D. Grit, “De vertaling van realia,” Filter  () –; for Roman Antiquity,

A. Seele, Römische Übersetzer: Nöte, Freiheiten, Absichten. Verfahren des literarischen

Übersetzers in der griechisch-römischen Antike (Darmstadt ), , , .
63 “In”: NBV, NJPS, TEV; “on”: KJV, Luther ; “at”: Vulgate, GN.
64 With Bieberstein, Josua—Jordan—Jericho, –.
65 Bieberstein, Josua—Jordan—Jericho, .
66 Holmes, Joshua, ; Tov, “The Growth,” , and others.
67 As, e.g. Holmes, Joshua, , holds.
 theo a.w. van der louw

Bible versions have done.68 Besides, êúéáì - ες τν οκαν belongs to
the gloss,69 which makes it even more unlikely that the translator had an
unglossed Hebrew text before him.
:: According to the Septuagint, the Israelite men have come to κατα-
σκοπε4σαι τν γIν “to spy out the country” (mt “the whole country”).
Versions like GN, NBV, TEV, and CEV also omit ìë. Thus they give
prominence to the fact that the men under Rahab’s roof are spies, and
whether they have come to spy out the whole land or parts of it is irrele-
vant. Hebrew is lavish with ìë, and it is made implicit sometimes in the
Septuagint70 and in more recent versions.71
:: The translator did not render íéùðàä2, because it is redundant in
Greek.
:: Not only v. b, but also “by the rope” (ìáçá) was omitted or
made implicit,72 which is difficult to decide because we do not know
how the translator imagined the situation. Had he already decided to
drop v. b when he was rendering v. a? Since the translator was
rendering segment by segment, and was constantly engaged in absorbing
source text material and producing output while trying to keep track
of the sentence, I deem it improbable that he made decisions ahead
where a translational problem had not yet arisen. In sum, I think that,
before dropping the “wall,” the translator made the rope implicit by using
καταχαλ#ω “to let down,” just as in Mark : and Acts : χαλ#ω
implies the use of ropes.73 Here, he is not just toning down redundancy,
he goes beyond it, as the rope is not present elsewhere in the text. The
translator contents himself with a rendering that hints to the use of a
rope as the most natural implement.

68 For example, GN, NBV, TEV, CEV. It is one of the proposed “translation universals”
that in translation, repetition tends to be reduced compared to the source text. Cf.
A. Chesterman, “Hypotheses about Translation Universals,” in Claims, Changes and
Challenges in Translation Studies (ed. G. Hansen and K. Malmkjaer; BTL ; Amsterdam
), .
69 Den Hertog, Studien, ; Bieberstein, Josua—Jordan—Jericho, .
70 E.g. Gen :; Num :; Jos :;  Kgdms :;  Kgdms : (twice); Ps  (mt

):;  Chr :;  Chr :; Job :; :; Prov :; :; Jer  (mt ):; Mic :.
71 See, e.g. Saadya’s interpretative renderings of ìë, mentioned in J. Blau and S. Hop-

kins, “Ancient Bible Translations into Judaeo-Arabic,” Pe#amim  ()  [Heb.]

72 Tov, “The Growth,” , claims that ìáçá is a “contextual addition” in mt, but does

not explain why or how. Holmes, Joshua, , suggests the lxx translator omitted it by
accident.
73 So already Margolis, The Book of Joshua in Greek, .
 translator’s competence and intention in lxx-joshua  

:: While mt has four verbs of movement (åàáéå ,åøáòéå ,åãøéå ,åáùéå),
lxx lacks a rendering of åàáéå. Often overlooked by scholars, this variant
does not reflect a different Vorlage. As even Holmes stated, the lxx
translator omitted åàáéå because he considered it redundant.74 With the
elliptic διαβανω ες, lit. “to cross to,”75 he could condense ìà åàáéå åøáòéå
without loss of meaning.

The transformations we surveyed testify to five concerns on the part of

the translator. Other transformations in Joshua  will reflect the same
and some additional concerns. By “concern” I do not mean a systematic
preoccupation of the translator. For example, he omits a pronoun to
avoid ungrammatical Greek where he can easily do so (:), but not
systematically.
The five concerns we found underlie many translations of all kinds,
both ancient and modern. In handling redundancy, the Joshua translator
seems more pronounced than many of his colleagues. But there are
indications that it was not redundancy per se that bothered him. First,
he also employed additions, e.g. in :, , . Second, his familiarity
with the Pentateuch sometimes made him come up with ready-made
phrases instead of renderings that would require processing effort to
strictly reflect the source text (:, ). Third, in several instances we saw
our translator deal with the same problem as his modern colleagues, but
prefer omission as the quickest solution over alternatives requiring more
effort (:, , , , ). Therefore I would propose that the omissions
in Joshua  testify to economy of labour rather than to a principle of
curtailment. Such an economy of labour can be explained by assuming
that the translator was working under time pressure and/or on a tight
budget.76 In all likelihood, the translator had no previous experience in
translating or interpreting, as witnesses his unfamiliarity with linguistic
translation problems and his untrained short term memory, resulting in
errors of grammar or content (:, ). In the light of his inexperience—
no competence without experience—and his preference for the easiest
solution we can no longer call the translator of lxx-Joshua  competent.

74 Holmes, Joshua, .

75 LSJ b, II..
76 If we refuse to ascribe such factors to translators of Holy Writ, we are excluding

possibilities because of our a priori assumptions. We know too little about the actual
translators to justify that.
 theo a.w. van der louw

Admittedly, the dictation hypothesis accounts for the possibility that

the translator/interpreter did not consult the manuscript but received
his source material from a reciter, segment by segment.77 When the
interpreter had finished his oral translation of a segment that had been
read to him, and had dictated it to a scribe, a new segment was read to
him. This explains how the interpreter lost touch with previous segments
and inserted a pronoun (α*το?ς in :) that referred to something in his
mental representation of the story but clashed with the previous segment.
Nevertheless, in order to be called competent, an interpreter is expected
to keep track of the text he has translated so far, and certainly not to forget
the very last segment he rendered.
The translator’s intention seldom rose above the boundaries of the
segment he was working on. In the case of the erroneous pronoun in :,
it is hard to believe that he intended an error. He intended the segments as
he produced them, but only in isolation, not connected as a meaningful
whole. The translator/interpreter either had no access to the target text
as a whole; or rather the “target text as a whole” was no viable concept
for him. This would mean he was a native speaker of Greek, but without
rhetorical education, and thus lacking professional text awareness.

77 In “The Dictation of the Septuagint Version,” –, I suggested that (parts of)

the Septuagint were translated through dictation, as was usual in Antiquity.

 “SOUND THE TRUMPET!”
REDACTION AND RECEPTION OF JOSHUA 6:2–25*

Michaël N. van der Meer

. Introduction

Within the study of redaction and reception of the book of Joshua, to

which our honoree has made numerous distinctive contributions,1 the
narrative of the fall of Jericho (Josh :–) takes a special place. Not
only does this story take a special position in the book of Joshua and
the history of Israel, it also forms the focus of several redaction-critical
studies which aim to disentangle the complex character of the story. From
a narrative point of view, the story is rather lopsided as far as the balance
between preparations for the capture of the city (Josh :–) and the
actual conquest (Josh :) is concerned. The first part of the narrative
is not only redundant and static,2 it also contains several tensions and
doublets.
The chapter is also one of several in which the Old Greek translation
(lxx) differs drastically from the received Masoretic Text (mt). This old-
est textual witness to the book of Joshua apparently lacks entire verses

* I consider it a great honor to present this contribution to Ed Noort, from whom

I learnt so much about the history of redaction and reception of the book of Joshua. I
warmly thank my mentor Arie van der Kooij for his constructive comments on this essay.
1 See, e.g. E. Noort, Das Buch Josua: Forschungsgeschichte und Problemfelder (EdF ;

Darmstadt ); idem, “Joshua: The History of Reception and Hermeneutics,” in Past,
Present, Future: The Deuteronomistic History and the Prophets (ed. J.C. de Moor, H.F. van
Rooy; OtSt ; Leiden ), –; idem, “Der reißende Wolf: Josua in Überlieferung
und Geschichte,” in Congress Volume Leiden  (ed. A. Lemaire; VTSup ; Leiden
), –.
2 The Hebrew text of Josh :– goes at great lengths to communicate the instruc-

tions dealing with the circumambulation of the city, the specifications regarding to the
division of responsibilities, particularly with regard to the roles of the priests and the lay
people. The style of these verses is remarkably redundant and static, the number of verbs
in the narrative wayyiqtol remarkably low ( out of  clauses) over against other verbal
forms (yiqtol, we-qatal, infinitives and participles). Strikingly, the Hebrew verb for move-
ment in these verses, êìä, “to go,” which is attested nine times in these verses, occurs only
in participial and infinitival forms (Josh :,  [three times],  [five times]).
 michaël n. van der meer

and half verses (Josh :b–, b, b, b, b), amounting to approxi-
mately one-third of the whole chapter. A quick glance through the pluses
in mt shows that many of these deal with the carrying and sounding of
the trumpets and constitute much of the excess baggage of the narra-
tive. Therefore, many scholars hold the view that the shorter lxx ver-
sion reflects a Hebrew Vorlage that is not only different from mt, but
also attests to an early stage in the process of literary growth prior to
the expansionistic longer Hebrew version attested by mt. Hence these
shorter (lxx) and longer (mt) versions are often seen as two successive
stages in the literary development of the chapter either by way of inter-
polation (Glossierung) or editorial activity.3
On the other hand the Greek version also reflects numerous literary
initiatives and interpretative translations,4 which render a mono-causal
explanation for the variants problematic. Furthermore, the text of Joshua
 in the oldest extant manuscript of the book, QJosha (first half of
the first century bce), where extant, almost completely sides with mt.5
Hence major advocates of the theory that large-scale differences between

3 H. Holzinger, Das Buch Josua (KHC ; Tübingen ), : “Wie lxx zeigt, ist

der Text hier noch lange im Fluss gewesen, so dass mit weitgehender Glossierung zu
rechnen ist”; C. Steuernagel, Übersetzung und Erklärung der Bücher Deuteronomium
und Josua und allgemeine Einleitung in den Hexateuch (HKAT .; Göttingen ),
; M.R. Savignac, “La conquête de Jéricho (Josué vi, –),” RB  () –;
S. Holmes, Joshua: The Hebrew and Greek Texts (Cambridge ), –; G.A. Cooke,
The Book of Joshua (The Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges; Cambridge ), ;
C.D. Benjamin, The Variations between the Hebrew and Greek Texts of Joshua: Chapters
– (PhD diss., University of Pennsylvania, ), –; A. Fernández, Commentarius
in librum Iosue (Cursus Scripturae Sacrae .; Paris ), –; T.C. Butler, Joshua
(WBC ; Waco ), : “The lxx reveals that literary interpretation continued to
produce differences in the material until a quite late date”; A.G. Auld, Joshua: Jesus Son of
Nauē in Codex Vaticanus (Septuagint Commentary Series; Leiden ), .
4 J. Hollenberg, Der Charakter der alexandrinischen Uebersetzung des Buches Josua

und ihr textkritischer Werth untersucht (Moers ), –; A. Dillmann, Die Bücher
Numeri, Deuteronomium und Josua (Kurzgefasstes exegetisches Handbuch zum Alten
Testament; d ed. Leipzig ), ; M.L. Margolis, “Specimen of a New Edition of
the Greek Joshua,” in Jewish Studies in Memory of Israel Abrahams by The Faculty and
Visiting Teachers of the Jewish Institute of Religion (New York ), –; E. Otto, Das
Mazzotfest in Gilgal (BWANT ; Stuttgart ), –; J. Moatti-Fine, Jésus (Josué) (La
Bible d’Alexandrie ; Paris ), –, –; K. Bieberstein, Josua-Jordan-Jericho:
Archäologie, Geschichte und Theologie der Landnahmeerzählungen Josua – (OBO ;
Fribourg ), –.
5 E. Ulrich, “QJosha,” in Qumran Cave . IX: Deuteronomy to Kings (ed. E. Ulrich

et al.; DJD XIV; Oxford ), –. Given the close correspondence between the
Hebrew texts of Joshua , the mt has been taken as point of comparison. Variant readings
in QJosha are discussed in the footnotes below.
 redaction and reception of joshua :– 

the Old Greek translation and the received Hebrew text (mt) attest to
successive stages in the literary development of the biblical books, such
as Emanuel Tov and Eugene Ulrich, are remarkably reluctant to apply
their theories to this chapter.6
Another advocate of this theory, Lea Mazor,7 even finds evidence for
a deliberate ideologically motivated curtailment of the longer version.8
In her view the Greek version reflects a secondary, nomistic reworking
of the Hebrew version as attested by mt. The aim of this adaptation, she
argued, was to harmonize the statements about the blowing of the shofars
to the legislation in Num :. That passage reserves the right to blow
the trumpet exclusively to the priests, whereas the mt of Josh :, 
also mentions a rear-guard (óñàîä) blowing the shofars. According to
Mazor, the Hebrew version underlying the Greek translation made sure
that it was the priests who were responsible for sounding the trumpets.
As result, the nomistic editor added the adjective “holy” to the word
“trumpet” in verse  and furthermore supplied the word “priests” three
times at places where the older version as attested by mt made no
reference to them:

: Jπτ$ σ#λπιγγας ερς íéìáåéä úåøôåù äòáù

: κα: ο ερες ο ο*ραγοντες . . . úåøôåùá òå÷úå . . . êìä óñàîäå
σαλπζοντες
: κα: ο ερες σ#λπισαν úåøôåùá òå÷úå
: κα: σ#λπισαν τα?ς σ#λπιγξιν ο ερες úåøôåùá åò÷úéå

One wonders, however, how these additions to the mt version relate to

the large minuses attested in the same secondary lxx version. The large
scale pluses in mt verses b– and b rather support than contradict this
nomistic intention since they also deal with cultic matters.

6 E. Tov, “The Growth of the Book of Joshua in the Light of the Evidence of the

Septuagint,” in The Greek and Hebrew Bible. Collected Essays on the Septuagint (ed. E. Tov;
VTSup ; Leiden ), –. When Eugene Ulrich refers to the book of Joshua
as example of his theory of multiple literary editions of biblical books, it is only with
reference to Joshua  and :–, see E. Ulrich, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Origins of
the Bible (Grand Rapids ), –, –, .
7 See L. Mazor, The Septuagint Translation of the Book of Joshua: Its Contribution to

the Understanding of the Textual Transmission of the Book and Its Literary and Ideologi-
cal Development (PhD diss., Hebrew University Jerusalem, ). The author kindly pro-
vided me with a copy of her unpublished thesis. An English abstract of this Hebrew thesis
has been published in BIOSCS  () –.
8 L. Mazor, “A Nomistic Re-Working of the Jericho Conquest Narrative Reflected in

lxx to Joshua :–,” Textus  () –.

 michaël n. van der meer

My own investigations in related chapters of the book led me to

the conclusion that the large-scale differences between the Hebrew and
Greek texts of Joshua resulted from efforts by the Greek translator to
harmonize the complex Hebrew text.9 Thus, the Deuteronomistic (DtrH)
additions to the older pre-Deuteronomistic version of the fall of Ai
(Joshua ) created a number of doublets and tensions which the Greek
translator removed by means of stylistic shortening.10 The Deuterono-
mistic addition of Josh :–: to the pre-deuteronomistic statement in
Josh : prompted the Greek translator to produce his much disputed
text about the two categories of Israelites circumcised by Joshua.11 A
later nomistic-deuteronomistic editor (DtrN) transformed the address
of Yhwh to Joshua for his own nomistic purposes (Josh :–). The
Greek translator tried to solve the difficulties this insertion produced
by modifying the seam between the two layers and omitting the words
“all the torah” (äøåúä­ìë).12 Another DtrN addition, now found in Josh
:–, placed our translator for problems of space and time, which he
overcame by transposing the passage after Josh :.13 Finally, a Priestly
redactor adapted the old notice of the eating of the first fruits in Canaan
in Josh :, b to priestly legislation (Josh :b–a).14 Here too, the
Greek translator harmonized the different redactional strands into a
single coherent Greek text.15
It is my contention that something similar can be said about Joshua
:–. In my view, textual and literary criticism do not overlap in the
case of Joshua . From a modern critical perspective, the Greek version
should rather be seen as another example of stylistic shortening of a
redactionally layered Hebrew text. In order to substantiate my thesis I
will first present a synopsis of the Greek and Hebrew texts of the passage,

9 M.N. van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation: The Redaction of the Book of

Joshua in the Light of the Oldest Textual Witnesses (VTSup ; Leiden ).
10 Van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, –. For a characterization of the

Deuteronomistic layer (DtrH) of the book of Joshua, see ibid., –.

11 Van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, –.
12 Van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, –, –. For a characteri-

zation of the nomistic layer (DtrN) of the book of Joshua, see ibid., –.
13 In my view, the Hebrew scribe responsible for the text of QJosha offered a different

solution for the same problems by duplicating Josh :, – before Josh :, see Van
der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, –.
14 Van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, –. For a characterization of the

priestly layer (RedP) of the book of Joshua, see ibid., –.

15 Van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, –.
 redaction and reception of joshua :– 

then a redaction-critical analysis of the Hebrew text and subsequently an

examination of the Greek text in its own context.

. Joshua :–: The Greek and Hebrew Texts

In order to study this chapter in detail we will have to take a closer look
at the Greek and Hebrew texts themselves. For the sake of convenience
I present my own synopsis of the text of verses –,16 leaving aside the
first and final verses of what in medieval times has become known as
chapter .17 The reconstruction of the Old Greek of Joshua is based on
the editions of Rahlfs and Margolis.18

 κα: ε>πεν κ ριος πρς 5Ιησο4ν òùåäé­ìà äåäé øîàéå 

5ΙδοA äàø
γ παραδδωμι — — — τν Ιεριχω åçéøé­úà êãéá éúúð
ποχειραν19
κα: τν βασιλα α*τIς τν ν äëìî­úàå
ατ ·
δυνατος ντας ν !σχ"ι ºìéçä éøåáâ

 σ δ# περστησον ατ — τοAς —20 äîçìîä éùðà­ìë øéòä­úà íúáñå 

μαχμους κ κλEω,

16 The following conventions have been followed: where the lxx has a minus vis-à-vis

the mt, I have placed a large hyphen for each Hebrew lexeme not represented in Greek.
Italics have been used to mark pluses in lxx vis-à-vis mt as well as any other (part of a)
Greek word that is not a strict literal rendering of the Hebrew text as found in mt. The
bold fonts of parts of the Hebrew text anticipates the redaction-critical analysis.
17 According to the ancient Hebrew paragraph system, Josh : constitues a single

parashah setumah together with Josh :–, whereas Josh :– constitute together
with Josh :– a new parashah petuchah. Josh : presents a text-critical problem of its
own as it contains a long plus that seems to have been taken from (mt-) Kgs :.
18 A. Rahlfs, Septuaginta: Id est Vetus Testamentum graecum iuxta lxx interpretes

(Stuttgart ); M.L. Margolis, The Book of Joshua in Greek according to the Critically
Restored Text Containing the Variants of the Principal Recensions of the Individual Wit-
nesses (Publications of the Alexander Kohut Memorial Foundation in Trust at the Amer-
ican Academy for Jewish Research; Paris –; Philadelphia ). In cases where
the two editions offer different reconstructions of the Old Greek, I follow the conclusions
drawn by C.G. den Hertog, Studien zur griechischen Übersetzung des Buches Josua (PhD
diss., Justus-Liebig-Universität Gießen, ), –.
19 Margolis, The Book of Joshua in Greek, –, has shown that the reading attested

by codex Alexandrinus and adopted by Rahlfs παραδδωμι CποχεριGν σου τν Ιεριχω,
is the result of hexaplaric revision. Den Hertog, Studien, – further observes that the
grammatical construction attested by the non-hexaplaric witnesses of lxx-Joshua, is the
more natural one.
20 Margolis, The Book of Joshua in Greek, , adopted the longer hexaplaric reading
 michaël n. van der meer

————— úçà íòô øéòä­úà óé÷ä

———— ºíéîé úùù äùòú äë
—————— úåøôåù äòáù åàùé íéðäë äòáùå 
—————— ïåøàä éðôì íéìáåéä
———————— øéòä­úà åáñú éòéáùä íåéáå
—— íéîòô òáù
————— ºúåøôåùá åò÷úé íéðäëäå

 κα:
σται äéäå 
%ς &ν σαλπσητε τ σ(λπιγγι — — , ìáåéä ïø÷á êùîá
——————— øôåùä ìå÷­úà 21íëòîùá
νακραγ)τω πNς % λας +μα — — , äìåãâ äòåøú íòä­ìë åòéøé
κα- .νακραγ ντων ατ/ν
πεσε?ται ατ ματα τ τεχη τIς äéúçú øéòä úîåç äìôðå
πGλεως — — ,
κα: ε!σελε"σεται π0ς % λας íòä åìòå
1ρμ2σας
8καστος κατ πρ σωπον ε!ς τ3ν ºåãâð ùéà
π λιν.
 κα: ε!σλ4εν 5Ιησο4ς 1 το Ναυη22 íéðäëä­ìà ïåð­ïá òùåäé àø÷éå 
πρς τοAς 'ερε?ς
κα: ε>πεν α*το?ς λ)γων íäìà øîàéå
————— úéøáä ïåøà­úà åàù
—————— úåøôåù äòáù åàùé íéðäë äòáùå
————— ºäåäé ïåøà éðôì íéìáåé

 Παραγγελατε τED λαED íòä­ìà 23åøîàéå 

περιελBεν åøáò
κα: κυκλDσαι τν πGλιν, øéòä­úà åáñå
κα: ο μ(χιμοι παραπορευσ4ωσαν ºäåäé ïåøà éðôì øáòé õåìçäå
νωπλισμ)νοι ναντον — κυρου·
 ———————— íòä­ìà òùåäé øîàë éäéå 
κα: Jπτ$ 'ερε?ς 6χοντες Jπτ$ äòáù íéàùð íéðäëä äòáùå
σ#λπιγγας ερς — — — äåäé éðôì íéìáåéä úåøôåù

π#ντας τοAς μαχμους. Den Hertog, Studien, , has shown that the shorter reading
attested by manuscripts B, F*, M, , , , and , as adopted by Rahlfs, is preferable.
21 The reading attested by the Kethib with the preposition -á instead of the -ë (thus the

Qere íëòîùë and main witnesses to Tg. Jon. ïåëòîùîë) seems to be due to assimilation
to the preceding phrase êùîá and is therefore secondary.
22 See Van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, , for the difference between

Ναυη (Rahlfs) and Ναυν (Margolis).

23 The Kethib of the mt has the plural form åøîàéå, whereas the Qere has the singular

øîàéå. QJosha supports this reading as it amplifies the subject “Joshua”: òåùåäé øîàéå. The
other ancient versions all read the singular: Tg. Jon. àîòì øîàå, Pesh.   , Vulg.
ad populum quoque ait. The Qere is therefore to be preferred over the Kethib.
 redaction and reception of joshua :– 

παρελB)τωσαν %σα"τως ναντον åøáò

το κυρου
κα: σημαιν)τωσαν ετ νως, úåøôåùá åò÷úå
κα: < κιβωτς τIς διαB7κης κυρου ºíäéøçà êìä äåäé úéøá ïåøàå
πακολου4ετω·
 ο' δO μ#χιμοι
μπροσBεν — — íéðäëä éðôì êìä õåìçäå 
παραπορευ)σ4ωσαν24
——— úåøôåùä 25åò÷ú
κα: ο ερες ο ο*ραγοντες — ïåøàä éøçà êìä óñàîäå
πσω τIς κιβωτο4 τς δια42κης
κυρου
—26 êåìä
— σαλπζοντες — — ºúåøôåùá òå÷úå

 τED δ# λαED νετελατο 5Ιησο4ς λγων øîàì òùåäé äåö íòä­úàå 

Μ βοNτε, åòéøú àì
μηδO .κουσ(τω μη4ε-ς μ/ν τν íëìå÷­úà åòéîùú­àìå
φων7ν,
— — — — — — — 8ως Qν <μραν íåé ãò øáã íëéôî àöé­àìå
ατς διαγγελη — — íëéìà éøîà
ναβοIσαι, åòéøä
κα: τ τε ναβο7σετε. ºíúòéøäå

 κα: περιελ4οσα < κιβωτς τς øéòä­úà äåäé­ïåøà áñéå 

δια42κης το 4εο τν πGλιν
——— úçà íòô ó÷ä
— ε4)ως πIλBεν ες τν äðçîä åàáéå
παρεμβολν
κα: κοιμ7Bη κε. ºäðçîá åðéìéå
ô

 κα: τ 7μ)ρ8α τ δευτ)ρ8α νστη ø÷áá òùåäé íëùéå 

5Ιησο4ς τ πρω,
κα: Rραν ο' 'ερε?ς τν κιβωτν τς ºäåäé ïåøà­úà íéðäëä åàùéå
δια42κης κυρου,
 κα: ο' Jπτ$ 'ερε?ς ο φροντες τ$ς íéàùð íéðäëä äòáùå 
σ#λπιγγας τ$ς Jπτ$ íéìáéä úåøôåù äòáù
— προεπορε"οντο ναντον — äåäé ïåøà éðôì
κυρου,
—— êåìä íéëìä

24See Den Hertog, Studien, , for a refutation of Margolis’s προπορευσBωσαν.

25The Qere éò÷ú adjusts the verbal tense of the Kethib (åò÷ú, perfect) to the tense of
the other verbs in the verse, which is active participle.
26 The shorter Greek text adopted by Margolis probably reflects the original Greek

text, whereas the longer text adopted by Rahlfs, πορευGμενοι κα: σαλπζοντες, probably
reflects later correction towards mt, thus Den Hertog, Studien, .
 michaël n. van der meer

———— úåøôåùá åò÷úå

κα: μετ τατα ε!σεπορε οντο ο íäéðôì êìä õåìçäå
μ(χιμοι — —
κα: % λοιπς χλος — πισBε τIς äåäé ïåøà éøçà êìä óñàîäå
κιβωτο4 τς δια42κης κυρου·
— 27êìåä

κα: ο ερες σ#λπισαν τα?ς ºúåøôåùá òå÷úå

σ#λπιγξι,
 κα: 1 λοιπς χλος Sπας úçà íòô éðùä íåéá øéòä­úà åáñéå 
περιεκ κλωσε τν πGλιν γγ"4εν
κα: πIλBεν π#λιν ες τν äðçîä åáùéå
παρεμβολ7ν.
ο@τως ποει π: Tξ <μρας ºíéîé úùù åùò äë

 κα: — τFI <μρKα τFI JβδGμFη éòéáùä íåéá éäéå 

—νστησαν ρBρου, åîëùéå
———— øçùä úåìòë
κα: περι7λBοσαν τν πGλιν íéîòô òáù äæä èôùîë øéòä­úà åáñéå
— — — 9ξ(κις .
——————————— ºíéîòô òáù øéòä­úà åááñ àåää íåéá ÷ø

 κα: — τFI περιGδEω τFI JβδGμFη úéòéáùä íòôá éäéå 

σ#λπισαν ο' 'ερε?ς — — , úåøôåùá íéðäëä åò÷ú
κα: ε>πεν 5Ιησο4ς τος υος Ισραηλ íòä­ìà òùåäé øîàéå
Κεκρ#ξατε· åòéøä
παρδωκεν γρ κ ριος Cμ?ν τν ºøéòä­úà íëì äåäé ïúð­éë
πGλιν.
 κα:
σται < πGλις ν#Bεμα, íøç øéòä äúéäå 
α*τ κα: π#ντα, ­ìëå àéä
σα στ:ν ν α*τFI, κυρEω σαβαω4· äåäéì äá­øùà
πλν Ρααβ τν πGρνην äéçú äðåæä áçø ÷ø
περιποι2σασ4ε,
α*τν κα: — ­ìëå àéä
σα στ:ν — — ν τED οUκEω ατς. úéáá äúà øùà­ìëå
————— íéëàìîä­úà äúàáçä éë
—— ºåðçìù øùà

 .λλ Cμε?ς φυλ#ξασBε σφ δρα π íøçä­ïî åøîù íúà­÷øå 

το4 ναBματος,
μ7ποτε ν4υμη4)ντες μες 28åîéøçú­ïô

27 The Qere êåìä adjusts the aspect of the verb from active participle (êìä, thus Kethib)

to infinitive absolute.
28 The reading åîéøçú as attested by mt and Tg. Jon. makes less sense then the reading

åãîçú as presupposed by lxx (μ7ποτε νBυμηBντες Cμε?ς), see already Hollenberg,

Der Charakter, , and further Bieberstein, Josua-Jordan-Jericho, . The Pesh. (

 redaction and reception of joshua :– 

— ατο- λ#βητε π το4 íøçä­ïî íúç÷ìå

ναBματος
κα: ποι2σητε τν παρεμβολν τ/ν íøçì ìàøùé äðçî­úà íúîùå
υ/ν Ισραηλ—ν#Bεμα
κα: κτρψητε 7μ0ς· ºåúåà íúøëòå

 κα: πNν ργ ριον V χρυσον ? — ìæøáå úùçð éìëå áäæå óñë ìëå 
χαλκς ? σδηρος
Sγιον 6σται τED κυρEω, äåäéì àåä ùã÷
ες Bησαυρν κυρου ºàåáé äåäé øöåà
ε!σενεχ42σεται.
———— íòä òøéå 
 κα: σ#λπισαν τα?ς σ#λπιγξιν ο úåøôùá åò÷úéå
ερες·
%ς δ# ;κουσεν % λας τν φωνν øôåùä ìå÷­úà íòä òîùë éäéå
τ/ν σαλπγγων,
— Wλ#λαξεν π0ς % λας +μα äìåãâ äòåøú íòä åòéøéå
λαλαγμED μεγ#λEω κα- !σχυρ@/.
κα:
πεσεν +παν τ τε?χος κ"κλ@ω, äéúçú äîåçä ìôúå
κα: νβη π0ς % λας ες τν πGλιν åãâð ùéà äøéòä íòä ìòéå
———
————— ºøéòä­úà åãëìéå

 κα: νεBεμ#τισεν ατ3ν AΙησος κα- ­ìë­úà åîéøçéå 

—
σα Bν ν τFI πGλει, øéòá øùà
π νδρς κα: 8ως γυναικGς, äùà­ãòå ùéàî
π νεανσκου κα: 8ως ï÷æ­ãòå øòðî
πρεσβ του,
κα: 8ως μGσχου29 κα: Cποζυγου, øåîçå äùå øåù ãòå
ν στGματι Xομφαας. ºáøç­éôì

 κα: το?ς δυσ:ν νεανσκοις íéùðàä íéðùìå 

το?ς κατασκοπε σασιν — — õøàä­úà íéìâøîä
ε>πεν 5Ιησο4ς òùåäé øîà
ΕσλBατε ες τν οκαν τIς äðåæä äùàä­úéá åàá
γυναικς — — ,
κα: ξαγ#γετε ατ3ν κε?Bεν κα: — ­ìë­úàå äùàä­úà íùî åàéöåäå
σα στ:ν α*τFI. äì­øùà
————— ºäì íúòáùð øùàë

 , “and do not hide anything”) offers an interpretative rendering based on the
Achan narrative (Josh :, ), see also the plus in Josh :   .
29 Margolis, The Book of Joshua in Greek, , thought that the minus κα: προβ#του in

main witnesses of lxx-Joshua (B, , , , VL) “cannot be charged to the translator.”
As Den Hertog, Studien, , points out, such a statement requires substantiation, which
Margolis did not offer. The shorter text as adopted by Rahlfs is to be seen as the original
Greek text.
 michaël n. van der meer

 κα: εσIλBον ο' δ ο νεανσκοι íéøòðä åàáéå 

ο' κατασκοπε σαντες τ3ν π λιν ε!ς íéìâøîä
τ3ν ο!καν τς γυναικς
κα: ξηγ#γοσαν Ρααβ τ3ν π ρνην áçø­úà åàéöéå
κα: τν πατρα α*τIς κα: τν äîà­úàå äéáà­úàå
μητρα α*τIς
κα: τοAς δελφοAς α*τIς — — ­ìë­úàå äéçà­úàå
——— äì­øùà
κα:30 τν συγγνειαν α*τIς — κα- åàéöåä äéúåçôùî­ìë úàå
π(ντα,
Cσα Bν ατ,31
κα: κατστησαν α*τ3ν
ξω τIς ºìàøùé äðçîì õåçî íåçéðéå
παρεμβολIς Ισραηλ.
 κα: < πGλις νεπρ7σ4η μπυρισμ@/ ­ìëå ùàá åôøù øéòäå 
σν πNσιν
το?ς ν α*τFIY äá­øùà
πλν—ργυρου κα: — χρυσου áäæäå óñëä ÷ø
κα: — — χαλκο4 κα: — σιδ7ρου ìæøáäå úùçðä éìëå

δωκαν ες Bησαυρν — κυρου ºäåäé­úéá øöåà åðúð
ε!σενεχ4ναι.
 κα: Ρααβ τν πGρνην κα: π(ντα τν úéá­úàå äðåæä áçø­úàå 
ο>κον τν πατρικν α*τIς — — ­ìë­úàå äéáà
——— äì­øùà
ζEγρησεν 5Ιησο4ς, òùåäé äéçä
κα: κατEκησεν ν — τED Ισραηλ ìàøùé áø÷á áùúå
8ως τIς σ7μερον <μρας, äæä íåéä ãò
διGτι
κρυψεν τοAς íéëàìîä­úà äàéáçä éë
κατασκοπε"σαντας,
οZς πστειλεν 5Ιησο4ς òùåäé çìù­øùà
κατασκοπε4σαι τν Ιεριχω. ºåçéøé­úà ìâøì
ô

30 The plus πNσαν before τν συγγνειαν adopted by Rahlfs is absent from main

witnesses of lxx-Joshua (B, , , , ) and reflects secondary revision towards
mt, thus Margolis, The Book of Joshua in Greek, , and Den Hertog, Studien, .
31 The sequence of the clauses κα: τν συγγνειαν α*τIς and κα: π#ντα, σα Rν

α*τFI in this order is attested by the major witnesses of lxx-Joshua. The transposition as
found in other witnesses and adopted by Rahlfs, corresponds to mt and reflects secondary
revision, see Den Hertog, Studien, .
 redaction and reception of joshua :– 

. Redaction History of Joshua :–

The history of literary formation and redaction of Joshua  has remained

a puzzle for many modern scholars. It has long been recognized that
the anachronistic reference to the temple treasury in verses  and b
most likely reflects later interpolation.32 It is also commonplace to assign
verses a and b to two different hands since it is said twice that the
people made a great noise (äìåãâ äòåøú íòä åòéøéå . . . íòä òøéå). On the
basis of this doublet Julius Wellhausen concluded that the chapter was
compiled of two different narrative strands: one strand allowed for a
single day of circumambulation with a single person blowing a single
horn, the other with the well-known structure of seven days and seven
trumpets.33 Wellhausen did not offer a complete literary-critical analysis
of the chapter, nor did other pioneers in the field of literary criticism,
such as Abraham Kuenen.34
Over the last decades several attempts have been made to fill in this
gap, but the results of these proposals are widely diverging and have
found little approval among scholars. Thus, Eckart Otto, Jacques Briend,
Ludger Schwienhorst, and Klaus Bieberstein all developed their own
reconstruction of the literary history of the chapter.35 The one point these
reconstructions have in common is that they tend to reduce the nar-
rative to a very small textual core narrative, while on the other hand
they postulate a large number of subsequent redactions. Bieberstein, for
example, discerns no less than seven literary strata, whereas Schwien-

32 See already J.W. Colenso, The Later Legislation of the Pentateuch (vol.  of The
Pentateuch and Book of Joshua Critically Examined; London ), –. See fur-
ther Bieberstein, Josua-Jordan-Jericho, –; J. Briend, “Le trésor de YHWH en Jos
,.b,” Transeu  () –.
33 J. Wellhausen, Die Composition des Hexateuchs und der historischen Bücher des Alten

Testaments (d ed.; Berlin ), –.

34 A. Kuenen, De Thora en de historische boeken des Ouden Verbonds (vol.  of Histo-

risch-critisch onderzoek naar het ontstaan en de verzameling van de boeken des Ouden
Verbonds. Tweede, geheel omgewerkte uitgave; Leiden ), . Scholars of that time
that did try to draw a complete literary-critical sketch of the chapter mainly followed
Wellhausen and remained somewhat uncertain about their own results, see, e.g. E. Albers,
Die Quellenberichte in Josua I–XII: Beitrag zur Quellenkritik des Hexateuchs (Bonn ),
–; Steuernagel, Deuteronomium und Josua, –; Holzinger, Das Buch Josua,
–.
35 Otto, Mazzotfest, –; J. Briend, Bible et archéologie en Josué ,–,. Recherches

sur la composition de Josué – (PhD diss., Institut Catholique de Paris, ); L.
Schwienhorst, Die Eroberung Jerichos: Exegetische Untersuchung zu Josua  (SBS ;
Stuttgart ); Bieberstein, Josua-Jordan-Jericho, –.
 michaël n. van der meer

horst identifies seven redactions of a core narrative. One wonders how

such a massive and paper consuming process of text accretion would fit
into the general picture of text production in Antiquity that can be estab-
lished on the basis of parallels from the scribal culture from neighbouring
civilisations.36
There is no need to describe and discuss these theories in full, since
the honouree has done so in a very clear and elaborate way.37 More
important for the present study are his synchronic observations,38 which
form part of departure for my own redaction-critical analysis of the
chapter. Noort has made the important observation that the number
seven not only appears in the repeated reference to the seven priests
carrying seven trumpets (verses , , , ), but structures the whole of
the narrative in its final form. Noort discerns seven direct speeches and
seven corresponding narrative parts.39 The number seven (äòáù) itself
occurs  times, i.e. two times seven.
One could easily extend his observations since the verbs “to encircle”
(ááñ) and “to shout” (òåø) are also attested seven times in the passage
under discussion, whereas the shofar occurs two times seven, i.e. four-
teen times. One should further observe that the number seven occurs
four times in combination with the priests (íéðäë).40 It is also important
to note that these keywords are frequently attested in the non-narrative
parts of the chapter, more specifically in the participial and infinitive
clauses (verses – and ) that give the first part of the narrative (Josh
:–) its burdensome and static character.
On the basis of these observations it is possible to discern a priestly
layer (RedP) in this chapter constituting of at least four text segments,
verses , , –, and –. Given the sevenfold repetition of several key
terms, it is significant to note that these priestly additions consist of ,
that is: fifteen times seven, words. These passages all stress the role of

36 K. van der Toorn, Scribal Culture and the Making of the Hebrew Bible (Cambridge,
Mass., ).
37 Noort, Das Buch Josua, –.
38 E. Noort, “De val van de grote stad Jericho: Kanttekeningen bij synchronische en

diachronische benaderingen,” NedTT  () –.

39 Noort, “Kanttekeningen,” . The seven textsegments with direct speech are, ac-

cording to Noort: :–; :; :; :; :–; :, and :. Perhaps it is necessary
to count the embedded direct speech in verse b (íúòéøäå “åòéøä” :íëéìà éøîà íåé ãò)
as an independent segment of direct speech and consider verse  as part of a different
segment in line with the Masoretic paragraph division.
40 Josh :a, b, a, a. The íéðäë are mentioned five more times, i.e., in verse b, a,

a, , and a.

 redaction and reception of joshua :– 

the priests in carrying (àùð) and sounding (ò÷ú) the shofars and show
great interest in cultic and ceremonial aspects concerning the procession
around Jericho. It stands to reason that the short mention in verse a of
the priests blowing the shofars the seventh time Israel encircled the city
also belongs to this priestly layer. There are also good reasons to consider
verses –a and b as respectively the sixth and seventh priestly
intervention in the narrative since the theme of temple treasury is of great
importance to the keepers of this treasury, i.e. the priests. Together with
verse a these passages consist of , i.e. seven times seven, words. As a
result, we can discern seven priestly additions to Josh :– consisting
of  words, i.e.  times seven, the number  representing the number
of letters of the Hebrew alphabet.
These priestly additions gain even more profile when they are con-
trasted with the non-priestly part of the passage (Josh :–, , , –
, –, b–, b–a, ). In this pre-priestly layer the priests are
absent and all action evolves around Yhwh, Joshua and the people. In this
pre-priestly version instruction and execution correspond closely:41

: äìåãâ äòåøú íòä­ìë åòéøé øôåùä ìå÷­úà íëòîùá ìáåéä ïø÷á êùîá éäéå
:b äìåãâ äòåøú íòä åòéøéå øôåùä ìå÷­úà íòä òîùë éäéå

Within this older literary stratum of Joshua , there is only a single shofar.
Here the shofar has no cultic, but rather its ordinary military function,
that is as a signal for the people to raise the battle-cry (äìåãâ äòåøú).42 The
priestly additions, however, go at great lengths to ascertain the cultic role
of the shofars (now in the plural), and the role of the priests in handling
them. Since the pre-priestly version employed this word shofar in these
passages, the priestly editor could not use the word “trumpet” (äøööç)
employed in the priestly legislation of Num :– and related post-
exilic writings,43 but adopted the term provided by his source text.

41 In this respect, I follow the observations made by Wellhausen. According to my

analysis, however, the element of seven rounds around the city was already part of the
older layer, see also V. Fritz, Das Buch Josua (HAT .; Tübingen ), .
42 The element of battle-cry has a close parallel in  Sam :–, which is linked up with

the ark of the covenant (cf. Josh :, ;  Sam :) and a reference to the Exodus narrative
( Sam :, cf. Josh :).
43 Num :, , ,  (see below); :; Ezra : (see below); Neh :. (see below);

 Chr : (see below); :, ; :, ;  Chr :, ; :, ; :; :; :,
; :, , ; Sir :; and  times in QM cols. II–III, VII–X, XVI–XVIII with
parallels in the Q copies of the War Scroll: Q, Q and Q. See further  Kgs
:, ; :; Hos :; and Ps :.
 michaël n. van der meer

A comparison between the pre-priestly stratum and the priestly addi-

tions to Joshua  furthermore shows that the interventions have been
inserted mainly before the passage they wish to modify.44 Thus the priest-
ly addition in Josh : anticipates and modifies the instruction of Yhwh to
Joshua given in the following verse. It offers a specification of the first part
of verse  dealing with the blowing of the shofar. The same phenomenon
can be observed in verse  which relegates Joshua’s address to the people
in verse  to an address to the priests. The addition in verses – also
departs from verse  but modifies the instruction to go forward (åøáò)
and transforms the military escort of the ark (äåäé ïåøà éðôì øáòé õåìçäå)
into a priestly procession centred around the seven priests (êìä õåìçäå
íéðäëä éðôì).
While the fourth and fifth additions (verses –, a) do not intro-
duce new interests, but reassert the role of the priests, the addition in
verses –a modify the theme of the herem. 45 Whereas the herem in the
. .
pre-priestly version (verses , ) refers to the complete extermination
of Jericho’s inhabitants,46 the priestly redactor twisted the meaning of the
word in order to stress the votive aspect. Whereas the pre-priestly version
made an exception from complete annihilation made for Rahab and her
family (verses b, –), the priestly editor added another exception,
namely all precious metal objects in order to secure them for deposit in
the temple treasury, which implies priestly custody.47 Verse  not only
repeats the proviso made in verse b (÷ø followed by äéç Hiphil; trans-
formed into ÷ø plus íøç Hiphil), but also anticipates the priestly narra-
tive of Achan’s sin (Josh :, –) by means of phrase “take from the

44 A parallel can be drawn with the priestly version of the creation narrative (Genesis
) which precedes the older version (Gen :–:) in order to offer its own interpretation
beforehand.
45 Given the repeated insertion of word íéðäë in the priestly additions, it comes

somewhat as a surprise that we do not find the word in verse a. The plural form
of both the verb åò÷úéå and the noun úåøôùá renders beyond doubt, to my mind, that
the priests are implied here and that we are dealing with a priestly modification of
verse b, where the people start shouting only after they have heard the blast of the
shofar.
46 The use of the word íøç is comparable to the Mesha stele, line : ùîë øúùòì éë

äúîøçä, “for I (i.e. Mesha) had devoted them (i.e. the inhabitants of Nebo) to destruction
for Ashtar-Chemosh.”
47 C. Brekelmans, De Herem in het Oude Testament (PhD diss., Catholic University
.
Nijmegen, ), –, , made a similar distinction between the two uses of the root
íøç in Josh :, , and :–. See further Lev :, –, for parallels for priestly
appropriation of the íøç.
 redaction and reception of joshua :– 

herem”
. (íøçä­ïî ç÷ì, Josh :; :, ) and the expression “to entangle
into disorder” (øëò, Josh :; : [×]).48
The characteristic distinctive vocabulary of the priestly additions to
Joshua  has interesting parallels in post-exilic writings, such as Chron-
icles, Ezra and Nehemiah as well as priestly passages in the Pentateuch.
One of the passages with a high density of the same vocabulary and ide-
ological motives as the priestly layer in Joshua , is found in  Chr :–
.49 In this chapter, the Chronicler took up the record of the war between
king Abiam of Judah with Jeroboam of Northern Israel in  Kgs :–
 and placed a speech of his own making in the mouth of the former
emphasizing the legitimacy of the cult at Jerusalem versus the illegitimate
cult in the North. The passage shares with the priestly version of Joshua 
the clear distinction between priests sounding the trumpets ( Chr ::
úåøööçá íéøööçî íéðäëäå) and lay people raising their battle-cry ( Chr
:: äãåäé ùéà åòéøéå). Here too, victory is presented as the logical out-
come of correct cultic observance.
In Ezra :– and Neh :– the same expressions occur but
now without any military connotation. In Ezra :–, priests with
trumpets (úåøööçá íéùáìî íéðäëä) and lay people with their shouting
(äìåãâ äòåøú) mark the dedication of the Second Temple. Ezra :–
offers an interesting parallel to the (priestly) passage preceding Joshua
, namely Josh :b–a. Both passages describe the celebration of
Passover as inauguration of a new era, either after the exile (Ezra ) or
the desert wandering (Joshua ). These elements of inauguration and
dedication are also clearly discernable in the narrative of the dedication
of the wall of Jerusalem in Neh :–. The passage describes in great
detail the festivities and cultic processions (úëìäú) around the wall of the
rebuild city. Of special importance for Joshua  is the fact that here too
we find seven priests carrying trumpets (úåøööç).50
Finally, the cultic emphasis is also manifest in the priestly legislation
found in Num :–. That passage goes at lengths to ascertain the role
of the Aaronide priests in handling these instruments as well as their
ceremonial function (Num : úåøööçá åò÷úé íéðäëä ïøäà éðáå). This
passage not only shares much of the motives and expressions found in
the priestly version of Joshua , it also forms part of the great priestly

48 See Van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, –, .

49 As pointed out already by Schwienhorst, Die Eroberung Jerichos, –, .
50 Thus Schwienhorst, Die Eroberung, –; Bieberstein, Josua-Jordan-Jericho,

–.
 michaël n. van der meer

overarching of the wilderness narrative. According to the priestly pre-

sentation, the period of desert wandering which ended in Joshua –,
started in Num :, right after the pericope just discussed. Interesting
is also the fact that both at the beginning and end of this inclusio, we
find a priestly narrative of the celebration of Passover (Num :–; Josh
:–a).
On the basis of these parallels it becomes clear that the priestly layer
of Joshua  served several motives. It ascertained the role of the priests
over against the lay people by introducing this body of priests within
the narrative, as well as their object of interest and source of power, viz.
the temple treasury. It created a literary link with the Sinai narrative
in order to inaugurate Israel’s entrance into the sacred land in a way
similar to the dedication of the Temple and the city wall after the exile
(Ezra :–; Neh :–).51 Finally, it also serves the demilitarizing
tendencies of the priestly writers discernable throughout the whole of
priestly additions to the narratives of Genesis up to Joshua.52

. The Greek translation of Joshua :–

If the doublets, tensions, as well as the redundant and static style of

the Hebrew version of Josh :– should be seen as resulting from the
priestly redaction of the chapter in the way just described, it becomes
clear that the shorter Greek version does not attest to the stage of redac-
tion prior to the priestly revision. The minuses in the Greek version do
not square with the priestly additions in the Hebrew text. In Josh :–
, the Greek version lacks not only the priestly addition of verse , but
also part of the pre-priestly version found in verses –. In verse  only

51 Perhaps this explains why the priestly editors did not purge the now truncated

narrative Josh :– altogether. The angelic being declares the Israelite ground, which
Joshua has reached after the crossing of the Jordan, to be holy, since it was now understood
as a reference to the whole of Cisjordanian Israel.
52 S.E. McEvenue, The Narrative Style of the Priestly Writer (AnBib ; Rome ),

–; N. Lohfink, “Die Priesterschrift und die Geschichte,” in Congress Volume. Göt-
tingen  (VTSup ; Leiden ), –; and especially N. Lohfink, “Die Schichten
des Pentateuch und der Krieg,” in Gewalt und Gewaltlosigkeit im Alten Testament (ed.
N. Lohfink; QD ; Freiburg ), –; repr. as pages – and – respec-
tively in Studien zum Pentateuch (ed. N. Lohfink; SBAB ; Stuttgart ). Both McEv-
enue and Lohfink adhere to the classical hypothesis of distinct sources (JE and PG) woven
together by a later redactor. To my mind, the priestly additions in these books never
existed independently from the older layer which they sought to extend and emend.
 redaction and reception of joshua :– 

the second half of the priestly addition is absent from the Greek text.
Most of the other priestly interventions in verses – and , a, –,
and b are reflected in the Greek text as well. Hence, the Greek version
presupposes this heterogeneous, layered text. The numerous deviations
from the Hebrew text should be considered in terms of stylistic shorten-
ing and strengthening of the narrative and military elements of the story.
In order to substantiate this thesis, I will first point to a number of qual-
itative variants between the Greek and Hebrew versions of the passage
that can only be attributed to the Greek translator before turning to the
larger quantitative variants.
Starting first with syntactical features, the Greek translation of Joshua 
is characterized by a relatively high number of genuine Greek syntactical
constructions:

genitivus absolutus:53 κα: νακραγGντων α*τDν (:)

participium coniunctum:54 κα: περιελ4οσα < κιβωτς . . . ε*Bως πIλBεν
(:)
third person imperative:55 νακραγ)τω (:), παραπορευσ4ωσαν (:),
παρελB)τωσαν (:), σημαιν)τωσαν (:),
πακολου4ετω (:), παραπορευ)σ4ωσαν (:),
κουσ(τω (:).

Of special interest for a study of the interpretation of the Greek trans-

lation are the Greek clause connectors, since they reveal the translator’s
understanding of the macro-syntactical structure of the chapter:
δ (:, , , , ) and 9ς δ (:) for Hebrew -å vis-à-vis 
instances of κα.56

53 See I. Soisalon-Soininen, “Der Gebrauch des genitivus absolutus in der Septuaginta,”

in vol.  of Proceedings of the Fifth World Congress of Jewish Studies (ed. P. Peli; Jerusalem
), –; repr. pages – in Studien zur Septuaginta-Syntax (ed. A. Aejme-
laeus and R. Sollamo, AASF ; Helsinki ); Den Hertog, Studien, ; S. Sipilä,
Between Literalness and Freedom: Translation Technique in the Septuagint of Joshua and
Judges regarding the Clause Connections Introduced by å and éë (Publications of the Finnish
Exegetical Society ; Göttingen ), –.
54 See the discussion of participium coniunctum in Sipilä, Between Literalness and

Freedom, –; and further, Den Hertog, Studien, .

55 Although the third person imperative in Greek would form a nice counterpart to

the iussive in Classical Hebrew, the former Greek construction occurs only rarely in the
Septuagint.
56 Although the ratio : for δ:κα as clause connectors in chapter  still points to

the high degree of interference from the Semitic source text when compared to genuine
Greek compositions, it is nevertheless twice as high as the general ratio in other parts of
the Greek Joshua, see Sipilä, Between Literalness and Freedom, –.
 michaël n. van der meer

μηδ (:) for Hebrew àìå.57

λλ# for Hebrew ÷øå (:) vis-à-vis πλ7ν (:, ).58
γ#ρ (:) and διGτι for Hebrew éë.59

Also on the level of translation equivalents we find a variety of Greek

equivalents for the same Hebrew expression. In these cases too, there can
be no doubt that this variation points to literary initiatives of the Greek
translator:60

òåø Hi. νακρ#ζω (:, ), βο#ω (:), ναβο#ω (:, ), κρ#ζω
(:), λαλ#ζω (:)61
êìä πακολουBω (:), παραπορε ομαι (:), πορε ομαι (:),
προπορε ομαι (:), εσπορε ομαι (:)
ááñ περιστημι (:), κυκλGω (:), περιρχομαι (:, ),
περικυκλGω (:)62
àùð
χω (:), αUρω (:), φρω (:)
(ø÷áá) íëù Hi. νστημι (:), νστημι ρBρου (:), cf. ρBρζω τ
πρω (:; :)
øáò περιρχομαι (:), παραπορε ομαι (:), παρρχομαι (:)
äéç Hi. περιποιω (:), ζωγρω (:)
ò÷ú σαλπζω (:, , , , ), σημανω (:)

Furthermore, the Greek version of Joshua  contains a remarkably high

number of short adverbial phrases that lack a clear counterpart in Classi-
cal Hebrew.63 From a quantitative point of view, these adverbial phrases
are pluses of the Greek text vis-à-vis the Hebrew. From a translation tech-
nical point of view, such adverbial phrases, particularly the adverbial par-
ticiples, are often seen as indicators for either genuine Greek composi-
tions or relatively free Greek translations.64 Finally, from the point of view
of the composition of the Greek version of Joshua , they are of special
importance as these adverbial phrases add specific nuances to the story.

57 See the discussion of the variety of renderings in lxx-Joshua for àìå in Sipilä,
Between Literalness and Freedom, –.
58 Sipilä, Between Literalness and Freedom, –.
59 Sipilä, Between Literalness and Freedom, –.
60 See already Hollenberg, Der Charakter, , who classified these exampes under his

category: “das Bestreben . . . die Monotonie der hebr. Darstellung, welche dieselbe Sache
wiederholt mit demselben Ausdruck bezeichnet, durch Abwechselung im Gebrauch der
Worte zu vermeiden.” See further Bieberstein, Josua-Jordan-Jericho, –.
63 For the sake of brevity, no distinction is made here between Greek adverbs proper

and participles or adjectives used in an adverbial manner.

64 See R.A. Martin, Syntactical Evidence of Semitic Sources in Greek Documents (SCS ;

Cambridge, Mass., ).

 redaction and reception of joshua :– 

They color the static narrative of the present Hebrew text as they raise the
dramatic tension of the narrative.
: α*τGματα. Whereas the Hebrew text states that the wall of Jericho will
fall flat (äéúçú), the Greek version makes clear that the walls will fall
“automatically.”65 The adjective α*τGματος has no counterpart in Classical
Hebrew.66 It adds a specific nuance to the story that could only have
originated on the level of the Greek translation.
: %ρμ7σας. The Greek verb %ρμ#ω, “to put oneself in motion,” used here as
aorist participle, is a common word in Greek writings from Antiquity.67
In the Septuagint it occurs only sparingly and where it does, it is either
without a Hebrew counterpart or it is a unique rendering.68 On the level of
the Greek version of Joshua as a document in its own right, a connection
exists between Josh : and :, where the same verb occurs to indicate
the rushing movement of the river Jordan after the priests carrying the ark
had left their position at the riverbed (9ς ξβησαν ο' 'ερε?ς . . . , [ρμησεν
τ @δωρ το4 Ιορδ#νου κατ$ χραν). Apparently, the Greek version of
Josh : conveys a similar idea: the Israelite people are commanded to rush
into the city after the action taken by the priests just as the water of the
Jordan continues its course after the priests had come into motion.
: νωπλισμνοι, “heavy armed.” The verb νοπλζω is attested only ten times
in the Septuagint, exclusively as aorist middle participle with the meaning
“armed.” In Num :; :, , , , ; and Deut :, it renders
Hebrew õåìç, “equipped for battle.” That Hebrew participle passive occurs
also in Josh : as well as in verses  and , but here the word has
been rendered by the Greek phrase ο' μ#χιμοι. That Greek expression,

65 Definitions for Septuagint lexemes follow for the larger part those given by T. Mu-
raoka, A Greek-English Lexicon of the Septuagint: Chiefly of the Pentateuch and the Twelve
Prophets (Louvain ).
66 Butler, Joshua, . For a discussion of the word, see C. Spicq, “α*τGματος,” TLNT

:–. The word occurs only five more times in the Septuagint. Its use in lxx-Lev
:,  for Hebrew çéôñ, “second growth” is no less interpretative than the equation
found in lxx-Josh :. The same equation çéôñ-α*τGματος in lxx- Kgdms : (as
well as Isa : in the versions of Theodotion, Aquila and Symmachus) probably depends
on the Pentateuchal passage. In lxx-Job : α*τGματος has been employed in a free
rephrasing of the Hebrew, whereas the last attestation (Wis :) is in a genuine Greek
composition.
67 LSJ b–a. The word is also frequently attested in the documentary papyri

from Hellenistic and Roman Egypt, see F. Preisigke, Wörterbuch der griechischen Papyrus-
urkunden mit Einschluß der griechischen Inschriften, Aufschriften, Ostraka, Mumien-
schilder usw. aus Ägypten (Berlin ), :–.
68 In lxx-Gen : the verb squares Hebrew åéðô­úà áåù, in lxx-Num : äðô,

in lxx-Josh : áåù, in lxxA-Judg : ùåç Hiphil, in lxx- Kgdms : èéò, and
lxx-Nah : èùô, see HRCS a. See further G. Bertram, “%ρμ7, ρμημα, %ρμ#ω,
φορμ7,” TWNT :–. Hollenberg, Der Charakter, , listed the word in his category
of “kleine Zusätze.”
 michaël n. van der meer

however, fits the Hebrew phrase äîçìîä éùðà better, as can be seen from
that equation in Josh : and :, whereas the phrase õåìç, “equipped for
battle,” finds an apt rendering in Josh : ε\ζωνοι ες μ#χην. Apparently,
the Greek translator of Joshua was not given to stereotyped renderings, but
rather varied in his equivalents for specific reasons.69 In Josh : the phrase
qualifies both subject (ο' μ#χιμοι) and finite verb (παραπορευσBωσαν)
and adds the notion of the heavy guard with the large shields (τ$ πλα) in
front of the priests and the ark.
: 9σα τως, “likewise,” lacks a counterpart in the Hebrew text of Josh :.
The adverb occurs relatively seldom in the Septuagint and renders various
Hebrew words (åãçé ,-ë ,úàæë ,åäîë ,ïë).70 In lxx-Josh :– it establishes
a link between the groups of warriors and priests accompanying the ark.
: ε*τGνως, “vigorously,” occurs only here in the entire Septuagint. The cog-
nate adjective ε\τονος occurs only in  Macc : and  Macc :. Mazor
takes the adverb as proof for a Hebrew Vorlage æò ìëá which would have
been a corruption from æò éìëá which on its turn would have been a
substitution for úåøôåùá.71 Even if this chain of changes on the Hebrew
level would have taken place, a Greek rendering of this deviant Hebrew
text would have been ν π#σFη σχ ι. It is more probable therefore that
the adverb ε*τGνως reflects a literary initiative of the Greek translator to
strengthen the notion of the clarion call (σημανω, another literary initia-
tive of the translator).72
: The adverb ε*Bως, “straightaway,” occurs only fourteen times in the
Greek Old Testament, predominantly in the genuine Greek composi-
tions,73 and also lacks a direct counterpart in Classical Hebrew.74 Whereas

69 Hollenberg, Der Charakter, .

70 See HRCS c–a. See also Hollenberg, Der Charakter, .
71 Mazor, “A Nomistic Re-Working,” –. As Moatti-Fine, Jésus, , has pointed

out, σ#λπιγξ is not a literal rendering of øôåù, but rather of äøööç. A literal rendering
of øôåù would rather be κερατνη, as witnessed by the frequent substitutions attested
in hexaplaric witnesses to lxx-Josh , deriving perhaps from Theodotion’s version, thus
O. Pretzl, “Die griechischen Handschriftengruppen im Buche Josua untersucht nach ihrer
Eigenart und ihrem Verhältnis zueinander,” Bib  () –, here , see also
HRCS b.
72 Thus already Hollenberg, Der Charakter, .
73  Esd :; lxx-Sus ; Wis :;  Macc :; :; :, ; :; :, ;  Macc

:; and  Macc :. In lxx-Job : it is a successful rendering of Hebrew íàúô,
“suddenly,” see HRCS b.
74 Cf. Bieberstein, Josua-Jordan-Jericho, . The reverse is true for the Hebrew word

íòô, which cannot be literally expressed in Greek, hence the variety of equivalents not
only in the Septuagint (see, e.g. Josh : úçà íòô-ες Sπαξ), but even in Aquila’s
translation, see T. Muraoka, Hebrew/Aramaic Index to the Septuagint Keyed to the Hatch-
Redpath Concordance (Grand Rapids, Mich. ), c; J. Reider and N. Turner, An
Index to Aquila (VTSup ; Leiden ), a. The statement made by Holmes, Joshua,
, that “the translator does not appear to have known the meaning of íòô,” cannot be
sustained.
 redaction and reception of joshua :– 

the Hebrew version of Josh : makes clear that the Israelites returned to
their camp after the ark had made a single circuit (úçà íòô) around the
city, the Greek version stresses the immediate return of the ark.
: The adverb γγ Bεν, “from close by,” is another rarity within the Greek
Bible and occurs only two more times (lxx-Josh :; lxx-Ezek :). In
lxx-Josh : the adverb describes the movement of the Israelite crowd
(% λοιπς χλος) encircling the city from close by. Since Josh :–
describes the action on the second day, it seems likely that the Greek
translator introduced this adverb to heighten the tension. On the first
day the procession returned quickly (ε*Bως) to the camp. The adverbial
participles in verses  and  also stress the military precautions taken by
Joshua. As military action from the inhabitants of Jericho failed to occur,
the Israelites could feel more secure and could therefore close in on the
city, according to the Greek version.
: Although the adverb π#λιν, “again,” occurs more often in the Septuagint,
it is mostly in combination with Greek expressions rendering the sin-
gle Hebrew word áåù, or without a clear Hebrew equivalent at all.75 Over
against the corresponding clause in : (ε*Bως πIλBεν ες τν παρεμ-
βολν) the adverb π#λιν in : (κα: πIλBεν π#λιν ες τν παρεμβολ7ν)
may have been introduced by the Greek translator in order to offer some
variation in his narrative and accentuate the ease with which the Israelites
returned to their camp.
: The climax of the narrative, Josh :, is accentuated in the Greek ver-
sion by means of Sμα, and Sπαν. The former adverb expresses congruity:
“together,” “at the same time,” in a succinct way that is not possible in Clas-
sical Hebrew.76 In lxx-Josh : as well as in the corresponding verse ,
the adverb indicates the combined effort of the people in their war-cry
(Wλ#λαξεν πNς % λας Sμα λαλαγμED μεγ#λEω κα: σχυρED). The fall of the
wall is marked in the Greek text by the adjective Sπας used in an adverbial
way. Here too, the Greek phrase lacks a counterpart in the Hebrew text.
The two adverbs stress the joint effort of the Israelites and the complete
result of their action.77
Only a full-fledged commentary to the Septuagint of Joshua  can do
full justice to these and other literary initiatives introduced by the Greek
translator. Nevertheless, the observations made thus far suffice to show
that the translator deliberately reshaped the narrative in order to stress
the military elements in the narrative and enhance the dynamics of the
repetitive story.

75 HRCS c–a.
76 The adverb occurs  times in the Septuagint, out of which five times in the Greek
Joshua, where it refers to the collectivity of the twelve stones taken from the Jordan river
(lxx-Josh :, ) and the combined forces of the Canaanite kings (lxx-Josh :).
77 Butler, Joshua, .
 michaël n. van der meer

The large minuses in the Greek version fit this pattern of stylistic
remodelling of the underlying Hebrew text, as a study of the structure
of the Greek text in its own right makes clear.78 Whereas the Hebrew
version of Josh :– in its final, priestly version contains five segments
of direct speech (:–, , ,  with an embedded direct speech), the
Greek version contains only three, i.e. the Lord’s address to Joshua (:–
), Joshua’s instructions to the priests (:–), and Joshua’s instruction to
the people (:). The priestly insertion Josh :– has been transformed
from narrative describing the execution of the preceding instructions
(:b) into part of the direct speech. The narrative introduction to the
direct speech in the Hebrew text of : (Qere: íòä­ìà øîàéå) has been
transformed into the opening words of Joshua’s address to the priests
(Παραγγελατε τED λαED).79 This Greek clause serves as an introduction
to a part of indirect speech. Thus the short priestly instruction (:b) and
its execution (:–) of the Hebrew text has been telescoped into a single
stylized direct speech. By omitting these instructions in the direct speech
of the Lord to Joshua (:), the Greek translator reduced the interest of
the priestly redactors into a military stratagem of Joshua.80 Perhaps this
also explains why the Greek translator added the distinction between
Yhwh ( γ) and Joshua (σA δ) in verses – and changed the number
of the verb at the beginning of verse  from plural (íúáñå) into singular
(περστησον).
In the following verses :– the Greek translator modified the nar-
rative account by amplifying in verse  that it was “on the second day”
(τFI <μρKα τFI δευτρKα) that the following action took place. By omitting
in verse  the final clause and modifying the number of the Hebrew
text “seven times” (íéîòô òáù) into “six times” (Jξ#κις), the translator

78 Only Fernández, Commentarius, –, has paid attention to the structure of the

Greek version of Josh .

79 The use of the Greek verb παραγγλλω, “to proclaim,” points to a(nother) literary

initiative by the Greek translator, since the word lacks a direct equivalent in Classical
Hebrew. Where the verb has been employed by the Greek translators of other biblical
books, it renders a variety of Hebrew verbs, each with a meaning less distinct than the
Greek one. Thus in lxxA-Judg : it renders ÷òæ Hiphil, “to utter a cry,” in lxx- Kgdms
: ÷òö Hiphil, “to call,” in lxx- Kgdms : õòé Niphal, “to take advise,” in lxx- Chr
: and  Esd : øáò Hiphil, “to cause to pass,” and in lxx- Kgdms :; :;  Kgdms
:; and lxx-Jer ():; ():; ():, òîù Hiphil, “to cause to hear.” In lxx-
Dan :, the word renders Aramaic øîà. See further HRCS b, C. Spicq, “παραγγελα,
παραγγλλω,” TLNT :–, Moatti-Fine, Jésus, , and Auld, Joshua, .
80 Moatti-Fine, Jésus, .
 redaction and reception of joshua :– 

reserved all the decisive action in verses – for the seventh circuit (τFI
περιGδEω τFI JβδGμFη).81
In a similar vein, the Greek translator brings down the twofold men-
tion of the reason why Rahab and her family was spared (mt-Josh :b,
b) to one (lxx-Josh :b) and removes the doublet at the beginning
of verse  where we find both the pre-priestly version of the people cry-
ing and its priestly correction close together. In all these cases, the Greek
translator rendered the second of two similar clauses and sentences and
omitted the first. As a result the balance between narrated time and nar-
rative time is restored.
In the light of these observations the claim that the Greek translator
held a specific interest in priestly matters, as argued by Mazor and
Bieberstein,82 can no longer be upheld. The translator did introduce
the subject ο' 'ερε?ς a few times at places where the Hebrew text lacks
a reference to the priests, but did so in order to compensate for the
drastic curtailments in verses b– and .83 The Greek translator did not
purge the narrative completely from the substantive priestly reworking
of the story, but further integrated the interventions into the narrative.84
Apparently then, it was not primarily an interest in priestly privileges, but
rather in strategic and historical probability, evident also in other parts
of his translation, that motivated the reworking of the narrative.85
This conclusion can be further substantiated by a study of the Greek
vocabulary of the passage in the light of contemporary Greek writings.
The closest parallels to the Greek version of Joshua  come from Greek

81 Cf. Bieberstein, Josua-Jordan-Jericho, –.

82 Mazor, “A Nomistic Re-Working,” Bieberstein, Josua-Jordan-Jericho, –.
83 The Greek translator also carefully avoided the common Greek word for religious

procession, κωμασα, which is well attested in papyri and inscriptions from Ptolemaic
Egypt, see, e.g. OGIS  (– bce), P. Tebt. II  (– ce), P.Oxy. III 
(third century ce), which explicitly mentions the wages for the trumpeter (line : τFI
σαλπικτFI), probably not only for reasons of limited interest in cultic aspects, but also
because that word was used particularly for the procession of the images of the gods of
Egypt, thus LSJ b and Preisigke, Wörterbuch, s.v.
84 Flavius Josephus, Ant. .– offers a further step in this process of stylistic

shortening. He also telescoped the narratives of the Passover (Josh :–) and the
siege of Jericho (Joshua ), by correlating the twofold mention of seven days, as becomes
evident from Ant. .: κα: τFI πρτFη τIς JορτIς <μρKα. Another parallel to the stylistic
shortening of Josh  can be found in the so-called Samaritan version of Joshua, where
verse  is omitted and  drastically reduced, see M. Gaster, “Das Buch Josua in hebräisch-
samaritanischer Rezension,” ZDMG  () –, and J. Macdonald, The Samaritan
Chronicle No. II (or: Sepher Ha-Yamim). From Joshua to Nebuchadnezzar (BZAW ;
Berlin: de Gruyter, ), –, –*.
85 Van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, –, –, .
 michaël n. van der meer

historical writings, such as Xenophon,86 and a military treatise written

around  bce by Aeneas Tacticus entitled On the Defense of Fortified
Positions.87 As the many references to the work in the history written by
Polybius makes clear, Aeneas’ handbook was widely read and studied in
Hellenistic times.
It is tempting to see a link here with the training and administrative
and military career of a Jewish court official, Dositheos son of Drimy-
los. As I have argued elsewhere, this person fits the profile of the Greek
translator of Joshua and may perhaps be seen as the author of the Greek
Joshua.88 As CπομνηματογραφGς at the courts of the third and fourth
Ptolemies, Euergetes I (– bce) and Philopator (– bce),
Dositheos must have had a good Greek education, which included writ-
ing and warfare.89 Furthermore, he must have put his military knowledge
into practise during the fourth Syrian war, in which he saved the life of
his king ( Macc :; Polybius .). If his father Drimylos is identical to
the local guide in Palestine for Zenon’s journey through this part of the
Ptolemaic empire, Dositheos must have been well informed about the
city of Jericho and its environment.90 However, in the absence of further
external data, this hypothetical link between this historical figure and the
Greek version of Joshua  is deemed to remain speculative. Nevertheless,
whoever produced the Greek translation of Joshua must have done so
with good knowledge of contemporary Hellenistic warfare.

86 Xenophon, Anab. ..–, contains the combination of phrases for sounding the

trumpet (σημανω τFI σ#λπιγγι), making a battle-cry (λαλ#ζω) and moving into the
battlefield (%ρμ#ω). Similar combinations can be found in OGIS  (the Rosetta stone,
 bce), line  ff., I.Panamara  (c.  bce) and Appian, The Hannibalic War .
87 Aeneas Tacticus. Asclepiodotus. Onasander (The Illinois Greek Club. LCL). Of spe-

cial interest are sections  on guards and the importance of signals by the trumpet (σ#λ-
πιγξ),  on patrols (περιοδε?αι), and  on smuggling arms into a city especially during
a festival. For a study of the vocabulary see D. Barends, Lexicon Aeneium: A Lexicon and
Index to Aeneas Tacticus’ Military Manual “On the Defence of Fortified Positions” (PhD
diss., University of Utrecht; Assen).
88 M.N. van der Meer, “Provenance, Profile, and Purpose of the Greek Joshua,” in XIIth

Congress of the International Organization for Septuagint and Cognate Studies, Leiden,
 (ed. M. Peters; SBLSCS ; Atlanta: ), –.
89 On Greek education in Ptolemaic Egypt, see, e.g. U. Wilcken, Grundzüge und

Chrestomathie der Papyruskunde . (Stuttgart: Teubner, ), –; and H.-A. Rup-
precht, Kleine Einführung in die Papyruskunde (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchge-
sellschaft, ), –.
90 Jericho is mentioned in P.Cair.Zen. I , line . See Van der Meer, “Profile,” –

.
 redaction and reception of joshua :– 

. Conclusions

Although at first sight it might seem that textual and literary criticism
overlap in Josh :–, a closer inspection reveals that the pluses in mt
vis-à-vis the much shorter lxx are not the result of glossation or a second
edition of the chapter. A redaction-critical analysis of the Hebrew text in
its own right makes clear that the tensions and doublets in the text are
the result of a single coherent priestly redaction of the text (:, , –,
–, a, –a, b). With its  times seven words, its repetition of
key terms concerning priests and priestly privileges and priestly property,
this redaction transformed an older narrative (:–, , , –, –,
b–, b–a, ) into the present cultic ceremony.
A study of the Greek version in its own right makes clear that the
translator sought to stylize the static and layered text. The numerous
literary initiatives taken by the translator were aimed to restore the
dynamics of the narrative and stress the military aspects of the story,
rather than the cultic aspects. The Greek version does not reflect nomistic
reworking, but may reflect the way someone with direct experience with
warfare in the land of Palestine envisaged a memorable victory of people
coming from Egypt.
Whereas the last stage in the redaction of the book resulted into
substantial additions to the text, the first stage in the reception of that
passage resulted into drastic curtailment and stylistic shortening. What
the priestly editors and the Greek translator of our passage have in
common is the fact that they left their personal imprints on the text.
The priests literally wrote themselves into the text, whereas the Greek
translator adapted the text to his own historical and military interests.
Perhaps in this respect a comparison can be made with the work of our
jubilee, which has left his own distinctive imprint on the study of the book
of Joshua.
 “IS THIS NOT WRITTEN IN THE BOOK OF JASHAR?”
(JOSHUA 10:13C): REFERENCES TO
EXTRA-BIBLICAL BOOKS IN THE BIBLE

Kristin De Troyer

In his survey on books, Van der Woude summarizes what is known

about “lost books” in Israel.1 Indeed, there are in the Hebrew Bible/Old
Testament references to books that are now lost. In Josh :b–a, for
instance, there is the famous quote: “Sun, stand still at Gibeon, and Moon,
in the valley of Aijalon” (:cβ–γ). The text continues: “And the sun
stood still, and the moon stopped, until the nation took vengeance on
their enemies” (:a–b). Then the section ends with a question and a
narrative recapitulation: “Is this not written in the book of Jashar? The
sun stopped in mid heaven, and did not hurry to set for about a whole
day” (:c–d).
In  Sam :– there is a second quote from the book of Jashar (the
title of the book itself is mentioned in :): “Your glory, O Israel, lies
slain upon your high places! How the mighty have fallen! Tell it not in
Gath, proclaim it not in the streets of Ashkelon; or the daughters of the
Philistines will rejoice, the daughters of the uncircumcised will exult . . . ”
Aside from the book of Jashar, other books are referred to in the
Bible. There are, inter alia, “historical books.” For instance, the books of
the Chronicles of the Kings of Israel (ìàøùé éëìîì íéîéä éøáã øôñ) are
mentioned in:  Kgs :; :;  Kgs :; the book of the Chronicles
of the Kings of Judah (äãåäé éëìîì íéîéä éøáã øôñ) in  Kgs :; :;
 Kgs :. Moreover, there are different references to some sort of “book
of the Kings.” There is first the book of the Kings of Judah and Israel (øôñ
ìàøùéå äãåäéì íéëìî) in  Chron :; :; :; :. Then, there
is the book of the Kings of Israel and Judah (äãåäéå ìàøùé éëìî øôñ) in
 Chron :; :; :. Also, there is the book of the King of Israel
(ìàøùé éëìî øôñ)  Chron :;  Chron :; and the Annals of the
King of Israel (ìàøùé éëìî éøáã­ìò)  Chron :. And finally, there is

1 T.C. Vriezen and A.S. van der Woude, Ancient Israelite and Early Jewish Literature

(Leiden ), –.

 kristin de troyer

a reference made to the comments on the book of the Kings in  Chron

: (íéëìîä øôñ ùøãî).
Now, the problem with the book of Jashar is that it is not mentioned
as such in the Old Greek of Joshua. The quote of Josh :b– is still
present in the Old Greek translation of Joshua; the reference to the title
of the book, however, is not in the text. Did it disappear in translation?
Or, did the translator not have a reference to the book in his/her Vorlage?
This article will investigate whether or not other references to books, like
the book of Jashar, have also “disappeared”?
In the Old Greek of Joshua the reference was not there. Elsewhere, I
have come to the conclusion that the Old Greek of Joshua is a reference
to a proto-Masoretic text, and hence, “omissions” in comparison with the
Masoretic Text turned out to be “pluses” of the Hebrew text.2 But what is
the situation in the textually complicated books such as Samuel, Kings,
and Chronicles? The references to these “books” allow me to dive into the
different texts of the said books.
For Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles we have the following interesting
witnesses: the Old Greek or, in some sections, the Kaige Text (as pub-
lished by Ralhfs),3 the Antiochian Text,4 the Masoretic Text,5 and the
Qumran Cave  texts. Codex Vaticanus offers in the following sections—
also indicated with βγ and γδ—of Samuel and Kings, labeled “King-
doms” in the Septuaginta, not the Old Greek text, but the Kaige recen-
sion:  Kgdms :– Kgdms : (βγ) and  Kgdms :– Kgdms :
(γδ). The Old Greek translation is in these passages no longer avail-
able. Now, there is quite a discussion about the earliest layer of the Anti-
ochian Text:6 was it already revised towards a Hebrew text (Cross, Ulrich,

2See K. De Troyer, Rewriting the Sacred Text: What the Old Greek Texts Tell Us about
the Literary Growth of the Bible (Text-Critical Studies; Atlanta, Ga ).
3 A. Rahlfs and R. Hanhart, Septuaginta: Id est Vetus Testamentum graece iuxta lxx

interpretes. Editio altera (Stutgart ).

4 N. Fernández Marcos and J.R. Busto Saiz, El texto antioqueno de la Biblia griega: –

 Samuel (Textos y Estudios Cardinal Cisneros ; Madrid ); N. Fernández Marcos
and J.R. Busto Saiz, El texto antioqueno de la Biblia griega: – Reyes (Textos y Estudios
Cardinal Cisneros ; Madrid ); N. Fernández Marcos and J.R. Busto Saiz, El texto
antioqueno de la Biblia griega, – Crónicas (Textos y Estudios Cardinal Cisneros ;
Madrid ).
5 Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia (Stuttgart ).
6 K. de Troyer, “The Septuagint,” in The Hellenistic Age, (vol.  of The New Cambridge

History of the Bible; eds. J. Schaper and J.C. Paget; Cambridge, Mass.) (forthcoming);
idem, “Der lukianische Text: Mit einer Diskusion des A-Textes des Estherbuches,” in
Im Brennpunkt: Die Septuaginta. Studien zur Entstehung und Bedeutung der Griechischen
Bibel (ed. S. Kreuzer and J.P. Lesch; BWANT  n.F.; Stuttgart ), :–.
 “is this not written in the book of jashar?” 

Fernandez Marcos), or was it only a polishing of the Greek (Barthélemy’s

oldest perspective).7 Another discussion is whether or not the basis text
on which the recension/revision was undertaken was the Old Greek
text (Aejmelaeus) or one of the Old Greek texts (Tov).8 According to
Cross, QSama is about the text to which the Old Greek text was revised,
resulting in what Cross labels the proto-Lucianic text.9 QSama is a text
that has much in common with Chronicles. This complicates the debate
about the place in history and amongst the textual witnesses of QSama.
Unfortunately, there are no Qumran text fragments available for the texts
dealt with in the following.
We will now review the data for the references to the lost books and
focus on the different sorts of “books of the Kings.”

The Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Israel

 Kings :
Kaige: no reference
Antiochian Text: no reference
The Kaige text, nor the Antiochian text have a reference to the book of the Chronicles
of Israel. In the apparatus, however, of the Antiochian text, there is a notation of
the following hexaplaric reading: π: βιβλου XηματDν τDν <μερDν τDν 5Ισρα7λ.
One can thus surmise that most likely the reference to the book was added to the
text at a later stage of the text.

 Kings :
Old Greek: ν βιβλEω λGγων τDν <μερDν το?ς βασιλε4σιν 5Ισρα7λ
Antiochian Text: π: βιβλου λGγων τDν <μερDν βασιλων 5Ισρα7λ

 Kings :
Old Greek: π: βιβλου λGγων τDν <μερDν το?ς βασιλε4σιν 5Ισρα7λ
Antiochian Text: π: βιβλου λGγων τDν <μερDν τDν βασιλων 5Ισρα7λ

7 F.M. Cross, “The History of the Biblical Text in the Light of Discoveries in the

Judaean Desert,” in Qumran and the History of the Biblical Text (ed. F.M. Cross and
S. Talmon; Cambridge, Mass., ), – (= HTR  [] –); E. Ulrich, The
Qumran Text of Samuel and Josephus (HSM ; Chico, CA, ); N. Fernández Marcos,
The Septuagint in Context: Introduction to the Greek Versions of the Bible (Leiden ),
especially ch.  (“The Lucianic Recension”); D. Barthélemy, Les devanciers d’Aquila
(VTSup ; Leiden ).
8 A. Aejmelaeus, On the Trail of the Septuagint Translators: Collected Essays (CBET ;

Louvain ), –; E. Tov, The Greek and the Hebrew Bible: Collected Essays on the
Septuagint (VTSup ; Leiden ), –.
9 F.M. Cross, “The History of the Biblical Text,” –; See also idem, “The Evo-

lution of a Theory of Local Texts,” in Qumran and the History of the Biblical Text, (ed.
F.M. Cross and S. Talmon; Cambridge, Mass., ), –, esp. , –.
 kristin de troyer

The Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Judah

 Kings :
Old Greek: ν βιβλEω λGγων τDν <μερDν το?ς βασιλε4σιν 5Ιο δα
Antiochian Text (the parallel to  Kings : is found in Antiochian Text :): π:
βιβλου λGγων τDν <μερDν τDν βασιλων 5Ιο δα

 Kings :
Old Greek: π: βιβλEω λGγων τDν <μερDν το?ς βασιλευσ?ν 5Ιο δα
Antiochian Text: π: βιβλου λGγων τDν <μερDν τDν βασιλων 5Ιο δα

 Kings :
Old Greek: π: βιβλEω λGγων τDν <μερDν το?ς βασιλευσ?ν 5Ιο δα
Antiochian Text: π: βιβλου λGγων τDν <μερDν τDν βασιλων 5Ιο δα

The Book of the Kings of Judah and Israel

 Chron :
Old Greek: π: βιβλου λGγων βασιλων 5Ιο δα κα: 5Ισρα7λ
Antiochian Text: π: βιβλου λGγων βασιλων 5Ιο δα κα: 5Ισρα7λ

 Chron :
Old Greek: π: βιβλου λGγων βασιλων 5Ιο δα κα: 5Ισρα7λ
Antiochian Text: π: βιβλου λGγων βασιλων 5Ιο δα κα: 5Ισρα7λ

 Chron :
Old Greek: π: βιβλου βασιλων 5Ιο δα κα: 5Ισρα7λ
Antiochian Text: π: βιβλου βασιλων 5Ιο δα κα: 5Ισρα7λ

 Chron :
Old Greek: π: βιβλου βασιλων 5Ιο δα κα: 5Ισρα7λ
Antiochian Text: π: βιβλου βασιλων 5Ιο δα κα: 5Ισρα7λ

The Book of the Kings of Israel and Judah

 Chron :
Old Greek: π: βιβλου λογDν βασιλων 5Ιο δα κα: 5Ισρα7λ
Antiochian Text: π: βιβλου βασιλων 5Ισρα7λ κα: 5Ιο δα

 Chron :
Old Greek: π: βιβλου βασιλων 5Ισρα7λ κα: 5Ιο δα
Antiochian Text: π: βιβλου βασιλων 5Ισρα7λ κα: 5Ιο δα
 “is this not written in the book of jashar?” 

 Chron :
Old Greek: π: βιβλEω λGγων <μερDν το?ς βασιλε4σιν 5Ιο δα
Antiochian Text: ν βιβλEω λGγων <μερDν το?ς βασιλε4σιν 5Ιο δα

The Book of the King of Israel

 Chron :
Old Greek: ν βιβλEω τDν βασιλεDν 5Ισρα7λ κα: 5Ιο δα
Antiochian Text: π: βιβλου βασιλων 5Ισρα7λ κα: 5Ιο δα

 Chron :
Old Greek: βιβλον βασιλων 5Ισρα7λ
Antiochian Text: π: βιβλου βασιλεDν 5Ισρα7λ κα: 5Ιο δα

The Annals of the King of Israel

 Chron :
Old Greek: no reference to the said book
Antiochian Text: no reference to the said book

The Comments on the Book of the Kings

 Chron :
Old Greek: π: τν γραφν τDν βασιλων
Antiochian Text: π: τν γραφν βιβλου τDν βασιλων

In the following cases, the Antiochian Text revised the Greek of the
Old Greek:  Kgs :;  Kgs :;  Kgs :;  Kgs :;  Kgs :;
 Chron :. In the following case, the Antiochian Text does not change
anything:  Chron :;  Chron :;  Chron :;  Chron :;
 Chron :;  Chron :. The Antiochian Text takes over and revises
the text of the Old Greek in  Chron :, but both texts added a section to
the text in comparison to the Masoretic Text. Whereas the Masoretic Text
refers to the Kings of Israel, the Old Greek and the Antiochian Text refer
to the Kings of Israel and Judah. On the other hand, the Masoretic Text
reads in  Chron : a reference to the books of the Kings of Israel and
Judah, but the Old Greek and Antiochian Text only read Judah. Finally,
there is in the Masoretic Text a reference in  Chron : to the Annals
of the King of Israel, but that reference is not found in the Old Greek and
the Antiochian Text.
 kristin de troyer

Now, what happened in the existing versions with the second reference
to the book of Jashar in  Sam :? First the reference to the book is kept,
although the title is different. It is no longer the book of Jashar! Both the
Old Greek and the Antiochian Text read π: βιβλου το4 ε*Bο4ς. Again,
there is no Samuel Qumran text available.
Hence, we can conclude that the quotes of the book of Jashar were
known for a long time. But the title of the book was not well known.
In the Old Greek of Joshua the title is not mentioned and in the Old
Greek of  Samuel the title runs differently. So, the question remains as to
how the book of Jashar got its title in the Hebrew Bible? Maybe a scribe,
possibly with the name Jashar, inserted the reference to the title of the
book after the Old Greek translation of both Joshua and  Samuel was
already produced?
On a positive note, we can surely say that there were indeed books of
Kings and that they were well known.
 THE GEOGRAPHICAL SHAPE OF THE
UNCONQUERED LAND IN JOSHUA 13:2–5 MT AND LXX

Cornelis den Hertog

. Introduction

In spite of more than a century of thorough investigation into the Greek

translation of Joshua, there are still many riddles to be solved. One of
these is the relationship between the Greek and Hebrew texts of Josh
:–.
The story of the conquest of the promised land was concluded in
Joshua  by summing up the cities whose kings had been defeated
by Joshua and the Israelites. In Josh : the Lord addresses Joshua in
the same fundamental way as he did in Joshua . After the successful
conquest the land now has to be divided among the tribes. In the next
passage (Josh :–), however, two regions are described that have not
been conquered, but yet have to be included in the territory to be allotted
to the nine-and-a-half tribes.1 First (Josh :–a) the Philistine area
in the southwest is described, roughly speaking from south to north,
secondly (Josh :b–) the Phoenician territory in the north. As we are
not able to identify, neither íéðãéöì øùà äøòî (“[the] cave which belongs
to the Sidonians”) nor ä÷ôà (Apheq[a]) with any reasonable degree of
certainty, in the case of Phoenicia it is not clear whether the description
runs from north to south2 or from south to north.3
The Hebrew (Masoretic) text of Josh :– is not easy to explain. We
are faced with even greater difficulties when we turn to the Old Greek text
of these verses.4 It displays many smaller differences. In sum, however,
these variants produce a quite different geographical picture. They seem

1 Commonly, the passage Josh :– is considered to be a late element in the literary

history of the book of Joshua, see E. Noort, Das Buch Josua: Forschungsgeschichte und
Problemfelder (EdF ; Darmstadt ), , , , , , .
2 M. Noth, Das Buch Josua (HAT .; Tübingen  [d ed.= d ed. ]), .
3 So apparently V. Fritz, Das Buch Josua (HAT .; Tübingen ), –.
4 A.G. Auld, Joshua: Jesus Son of Nauē in Codex Vaticanus (Septuagint Commentary

Series; Leiden ), .

 cornelis den hertog

to extend the description of the Philistine territory until the beginning

of Josh :, reducing the discussion of the Phoenician territory to the
second half of Josh : and :. The basic question is whether the Greek
text should be explained as a free translation of a Hebrew text, similar to
mt, or has to be read as a faithful translation of a more or less different
Hebrew text. This is not an easy question to answer and for that reason
we will approach the problem on a general scale first and then discuss the
text in detail.

. The Geographical Competence of the Greek Translator of Joshua

The relationship between the Hebrew and Greek texts of Joshua has been
subject to discussion for many decades.5 In his thorough investigation
of three chapters, deemed to be representative, Michael N. van der Meer
came to the conclusion that “there has been no reason to assume that
the divergencies between mt and lxx stem from a Hebrew Vorlage that
reflects an older stage in the literary history of the book. Although the
Greek translator’s Vorlage may from time to time have differed from
mt, the scale of these variants does not exceed that of the divergen-
cies between mt and other Hebrew witnesses such as QJoshb, QJosha
(apart from the expansion in :–:) and the Mediaeval Masoretic
manuscripts. By far the majority of the mt-lxx variants can be ascribed
to literary initiatives introduced by the Greek translator.”6 In a short com-
mentary on the Greek Joshua in the context of the German translation of
the lxx the present author reached similar conclusions.7
A look at the presentation of the translator’s treatment of geographical
names in the fine volume on Joshua by Jacqueline Moatti-Fine8 at once
makes clear that the Joshua translator was a man of considerable variety.
He freely makes use, not only of transliterations, but also of Hellenistic
forms, even for one and the same Hebrew toponym. This suggests that
he was familiar with the geography of Palestine in his own time. Never-
theless we should be cautious, as may be demonstrated by the following
example.

5Noort, Das Buch Josua, –.

6M.N. van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation: The Redaction of the Book of
Joshua in the Light of the Oldest Textual Witnesses (VTSup ; Leiden ), .
7 To be published by the Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft (Stuttgart) in the course of the

next few years.

8 J. Moatti-Fine, Jésus (Josué) (La Bible d’Alexandrie ; Paris ), –.
 the geographical shape of the unconquered land 

The translator uses some toponyms of the typically Ptolemaic -?τις

pattern: Γαλααδ?τις (:; :), Βασαν?τις (:, , , ; :;
:; :; :) and Μαδβαρ?τις (:; :; cf. :). Of these, only
Γαλααδ?τις is broadly attested, inside and outside the lxx. Μαδβαρ?τις
figures only in the book of Joshua and certainly had no counterpart in
the historical geography of early Hellenistic Palestine. The originality of
the name Βασαν?τις is very suspicious too, although it is (borrowed from
the Greek Joshua?) attested in lxx Ezechiel and Dodekapropheton—not,
however, beyond the lxx. Greek Βασαν?τις√is derived from Hebrew ïùá.
Linguistically spoken, ïùá is a cognate of *btn. The regular Aramaic
equivalent of *btn is ïúá, which perfectly fits the well-attested Hellenistic
toponym Βαταναα. We know that in Hellenistic times Aramaic was the
lingua franca of northern Transjordan in general, and thus also of Bashan.
Therefore, as far as historical plausibility is concerned, Βαταναα is far
more likely to be the original Greek name of this region than Βασαν?τις.
We may thus assume that the Greek translator of Joshua worked outside
Palestine—more specifically: within the realm of the Ptolemies—, where
he could afford himself to use pseudo-geographical designations, such
as Βασαν?τις. Consequently, we should not overestimate his general
knowledge of Palestinian geography.9

. Joshua :–: The Hebrew and Greek texts

Before entering into the discussion of the relationship between the He-
brew and Greek texts of Josh :–, we present them for the convenience
of the reader in a synoptic overview, together with a small critical appara-

9 “Um  v. Chr. kannte man in Ägypten die meisten Ortsnamen von Jos 

offenkundig nicht. Das erklärt auch die Tatsache, dass viele ‘unbekannte’ Ortsnamen
durch bekannte ersetzt wurden . . . Vielleicht haben die Übersetzer bei der Arbeit an
der geographischen Liste aus Desinteresse und/oder Unachtsamkeit die vielen Fehler
gemacht. Ebenso ist es möglich, dass sie den Großteil der Orte nicht kannten, weil diese
entweder nicht mehr bestanden, und/oder die geographische Distanz Ägypten-Palästina
zu groß war. Doch ist eines sicher: Hätte man die Orte für wichtig gehalten, wären sie
mit mehr Vorsicht behandelt worden.” These remarks of J.C. de Vos, Das Los Judas: Über
Entstehung und Ziele der Landbeschreibung in Josua  (VTSup ; Leiden ), –
, may with equal right be said to cover the whole book of Joshua. The substitution of
unknown place names by more familiar ones will, however, have taken place in the course
of the transmission of the Greek text, rather than in the course of the translation process,
as suggested by De Vos. After all, our oldest witnesses of the Greek Joshua were written
some five or six centuries after the completion of the translation. Hence, a substantial part
of the text history of the Greek Joshua lies beyond our perception.
 cornelis den hertog

tus as well as the French and English translations of the lxx by Jacqueline
Moatti-Fine10 and A. Graeme Auld,11 respectively. The Greek text is the
one of Rahlfs’ critical edition.

 õøàä úàæ κα: α@τη < γI

úøàùðä < καταλελειμμνη
úåìéìâ­ìë . . . Cρια
íéúùìôä Φυλιστιιμ,
éøåùâä­ìëå . . . % Γεσιρι κα- 1 ΧαναναοςG
< °] > BΘ pauci
Γεσιρι ] Γεσουρι ANΘ* multi
Moatti-Fine voici la terre qui reste: territoires philistins, le Gesiri et le Khananéen;
Auld And this is the land left behind, borders of Pulistieim [Philistines], the
Geseirei and the Kananai:

 øåçéùä­ïî π τIς οικ7του

øùà τIς
íéøöî éðô­ìò κατ$ πρGσωπον Αγ πτου
ïåø÷ò ìåáâ ãòå . . . 8ως τDν %ρων Ακκαρων
äðåôö ξ ε*ων μων
áùçú éðòðëì τDν Χαναναων προσλογζεται
úùîç τα?ς πντε
íéúùìô éðøñ σατραπεαις τDν Φυλιστιιμ,
éãåãùàäå éúæòä τED ΓαζαEω κα: τED 5ΑζωτED
éúâä éðåì÷ùàä κα- τED 5ΑσκαλωντFη κα- τED ΓεBBαEω
íéåòäå éðåø÷òäå κα: τED 5ΑκκαρωντFI κα: τED 5ΕυαED
Moatti-Fine depuis la région inhabitée en face de l’Egypte jusqu’au territoire d’Akkarôn,
à gauche des Khananéens, compte aux cinq satrapies des Philistins, celles
de Gaza, d’Azôtos, d’Askalôn, de Geth et d’Akkarôn; et à l’Évéen,
Auld from the uninhabited [land] opposite Egypt as far as the borders of Akka-
rōn [Ekron] from the “well-named” side of the Kananai is being reckoned
in addition to the five satrapies of the Pulistieim, the Gazai and the Azotei
and the Askaloneis and the Gettai and the Akkaroneis and the Euai

 ïîéúî κ Θαιμαν
éðòðëä õøà­ìë κα- π#σFη γFI Χανααν
äøòîå ναντον Γ(ζης,
íéðãéöì øùà κα- ο Σιδνιοι
ä÷ôà­ãò 8ως Αφεκ
éøîàä ìåáâ ãò 8ως τDν %ρων τDν 5Αμορραων
π#σFη γFI] (b)π#σα < γI ............
γFI] praem. τFI AGNΘ multi
Γ#ζης] > ANΘ pauci

10 Moatti-Fine, Jésus.
11 Auld, Joshua.
 the geographical shape of the unconquered land 

Αφεκ multi] Αφεκα AGN plurimi; Ταφεκ B ..

Moatti-Fine à partir de Thaiman et à tout le pays de Khanaan, devant Gaza; et les
Sidôniens ont jusqu’à Aphek, aux confins des Amorrhéens
Auld from Taiman and to all the land of Kanaan facing Gaza; and the Sidonians
[have] as far as Tapek, as far as the borders of the Amorrai;

 éìáâä õøàäå κα: π0σαν τν γIν Γαβλι Φυλιστιιμ

ïåðáìä­ìëå κα: π#ντα τν Λβανον
ùîùä çøæî π νατολDν <λου
ãâ ìòáî π Γαλγαλ
ïåîøç­øä úçú Cπ τ ρος τ Αερμων
úîç àåáì ãò 8ως τIς εσGδου ΕμαB
Γαβλι, AGNΘ plurimi (Γαβαι pauci)] ΓαλιαB B ; ΤαλιαB ; ΓαλιλαB, Γαλιλαδ multi
Γαλγαλ ANΘ multi] Γαλγαα B (unice)
Moatti-Fine et toute la terre gablite des Philistins et tout le Liban au soleil levant, depuis
Galgal sous le mont Aermôn jusqu’à l’Entrée-d’Emath;
Auld and all the land [of?] Galiat Pulistieim and all the Libanos towards sunrise,
from Galgaa under the mountain the Aermōn as far as the entrance of
Emat;

.. Joshua : mt and lxx: A Minor Correction in Rahlfs’ Critical Text
In : the witnesses B and  read ΓαλιαB, whereas  reads the simi-
lar ΤαλιαB (regular confusion of Γ and Τ). This may be a slight corrup-
tion of the ΓαλιλαB, Γαλιλαδ, found in many witnesses: as Α, Δ and
Λ are confused quite regularly because of their similar shape, ΓαλιαB
would seem to be nothing more than a semi-haplography of ΓαλιλαB.
Alternatively it might be a corruption towards the name of the Philistine
hero Goliath that was killed by David.12 A larger group of manuscripts—
among them also the uncials AGNΘ—has Γαβλι, which corresponds to
mt éìáâ; Rahlfs took this to be the original reading of the lxx. However,
as the manuscripts in question repeatedly contain variants which can be
interpreted as (pre-Hexaplaric) corrections according to (proto-)mt, this
may also hold true for the present case. This alone would suffice to prefer
B’s ΓαλιαB or, even more probable, the broadly supported reading Γαλι-
λαB. Now A.G. Auld in his intelligent volume on the Greek Joshua has
justly pointed to the fact that the correspondence of éìáâ and the sup-
posedly original ΓαλιλαB in : “marks a textual shift in the opposite
direction from v. , where ρεια [Φυλιστιειμ] attests ìåáâ, and mt offers

12 ΓολιαB. It seems hardly probable that the book of Joshua was translated in Greek

after the Books of Samuel; the difference ΓολιαB/ΓαλιαB therefore is not significant.
 cornelis den hertog

úåìéìâ.”13 With respect to the consonants, éìáâ (v. ) and ì(å)áâ (v. , as the
lxx translator may have read) differ only slightly, indeed. Auld’s proposal
to assume an interchange between v.  and v.  in mt and lxx is convinc-
ing and makes Moatti-Fine’s assessment of lxx’s plus Φυλιστιιμ in v. 
as a gloss which was added in the wake of the corruption of the—in her
opinion—original Γαβλι into ΓαλιαB or ΓαλιλαB, improbable.14 This is
all the more true, as the alleged gloss Φυλιστιιμ is universally attested,
even in clearly Hexaplaric manuscripts (only G sub ob).

.. Joshua :– mt and lxx: Quantitative Differences

We now turn to the quantitative differences between mt and lxx, i.e., the
cases where either mt or lxx present an addition (or an omission, for
that case). The omission or addition of the copula in : (éøåùâä­ìëå/ . . .
% Γεσιρι), as well as in : (ïåø÷ò ìåáâ ãòå/ . . . 8ως τDν %ρων Ακκαρων;
éúâä éðåì÷ùàä/κα: τED 5ΑσκαλωντFη κα: τED ΓεBBαEω) and : (õøà­ìë
éðòðëä/κα- π#σFη γFI Χανααν) is too common a phenomenon in lxx
Joshua to be paid much attention to.
In : (twice) and :, mt’s ìë has no counterpart in lxx. Within
the Greek Joshua omissions or additions of this kind can be observed
repeatedly (e.g. :; :; :; :; :, ; :, , ); this must not cause
us to assume a different Vorlage.
In the end of : lxx adds κα: % Χανανα?ος. There is no justification
to suppose that the Greek translator added these words freely; therefore
we have to assume that he read éðòðëäå or a similar phrase in his Vorlage.
The additional Φυλιστιιμ in : was discussed in . above.

.. Joshua :– mt and lxx: Qualitative differences

Qualitative differences are those instances, where mt and lxx are at odds
in such a way that we can not retrieve one of them to (the Vorlage of) the
other. As to the translation of úåìéìâ by ρια in :, see . above.
: ξ ε*ων μων seems to reflect a Hebrew Vorlage reading ïåôöî.
This would result in a formal parallel with ïîéúî/ κ Θαιμαν in :.
It is hard to decide whether this parallel was produced by the Greek
translator or was inherent to the Hebrew Vorlage. The most natural
understanding of the Hebrew text is that the area from the Shihor in the

13 Auld, Joshua, .

14 Moatti-Fine, Jésus, .
 the geographical shape of the unconquered land 

south until the territory of the Philistine city of Ekron in the north is
considered to be Canaanite territory. In the Greek text, which for that
case seems to suppose the same Hebrew Vorlage, äðåôö is combined with
éðòðëì: “to the north of the Canaanite.” In the following éðøñ úùîç áùçú
íéúùìô, apparently íéúùìô éðøñ úùîç is taken to be the complementary
nominative. This understanding of the Hebrew text (mt) is not altogether
impossible, though it is not very probable either.
In : the Greek ναντον Γ#ζης in place of mt’s äøòîå has to be
explained either as an attempt to make sense of an embarrassing Vorlage,
or else as a free translation of the Hebrew consonantal text according to
an interpretation differing from mt.15
The remarkable Greek nominative κα: ο' Σιδνιοι for mt’s [øùà]
íéðãéöì apparently is the translation of a different Hebrew text. It is useless
to guess what the shape of this text may have been.
The different character of : lxx and mt can only be grasped if we
look at the broader context. As to the qualitative differences, we have
to explain the alternative ãâ ìòá (mt)/Γαλγαλ (lxx). The easiest way to
account for these different text forms seems to be to consider lxx’s Γαλ-
γαλ as a corruption of an original * Β(Α)ΑΛΓΑΔ. This, however, would
not do justice to the general tendency that may be observed in the Greek
text. In the introduction above we have already observed that both äøòî
and ä÷ôò in : do not allow a satisfying geographical identification. Of
these, Aphek is usually located somewhere in the northern part of Pales-
tine or even in the Lebanon. As the enigmatic äøòî is combined with the
phrase íéðãéöì øùà, the place in question has to be sought somewhere
in Phoenicia. This is confirmed by the continuation in : mt where
every detail of the text points to the Lebanon-Antilebanon area. Now,
when we turn to the Greek text, we are facing a totally different picture.
In :, the Greek counterpart of mt’s äøòî is ναντον Γ#ζης, which
brings us to the Philistine area in the southwestern part of Palestine. If
we accept the choice for an original ΓαλιλαB Φυλιστιιμ in :, as argued
above (.), we find a consistent continuation of :. This observation is
not questioned but even confirmed by lxx’s Γαλγαλ. In his Onomasticon
Eusebius mentions a town named Γαλγουλις, lying in the coastal plain, a

15 According to D. Barthélemy, Critique textuelle de l’Ancien Testament: . Josué, Juges,

Ruth, Samuel, Rois, Chroniques, Esdras, Néhémie, Esther (OBO .; Fribourg ), –
, the Old Greek read π Γ#ζης and leads to an original äTòî. In his opinion, F.-
M. Abel (“La prétendue caverne des Sidoniens et la localisation de la ville de #Ara,” RB
 []: –) was right in combining this alleged toponym * äøò with the #-r-n of
Egyptian topographical lists and locating it at modern Tell #Ara, not far from Megiddo.
 cornelis den hertog

few miles north from Aphek/Antipatris.16 If we suppose that in the Greek

text this Γαλγαλ/Γαλγουλις is meant, : seems to present two parallel
geographical movements, both starting in the coastal plain and ending
up in Phoenicia:
and all the land of Galilat Pulistiim and all the Libanos towards sunrise, /
from Galgal, (along) under the mountain Aermōn as far as the entrance
of Emat.

In : the description of the promised land to be allotted to the nine-

and-a-half tribes consistently continues with a description covering the
Phoenician realm.

. Synthesis: lxx Joshua :– Considered as a Whole

In the discussion above we hinted at a possible explanation for the

different shape of the Greek text of Josh :– and for the different
geographical picture involved. In the Greek translation the description
of the Philistine, or at least: of the southwestern Palestinian area, does
not end with :, but is continued until the beginning of :. It seems,
however, that there is a strong counterargument against this solution In
: we find the Sidonians mentioned in the Greek text. They clearly
belong to the Phoenician realm.
In section  it was argued that the Greek translators’ knowledge of
Palestinian geography was not very much developed. Consequently we
might plead upon the ignorance of the translator to account for a con-
fusion of Philistea and Phoenicia. This would not be very convincing,
though, as we may suppose that the coastal area of Syria-Palestine with
its important trade routes was fairly well known in Ptolemaic Egypt,
where the Greek translation of Joshua will have originated. It is surely
not just accidental that Gaza, Marissa, Straton’s Tower, Tyre and Sidon are
among the Syro-Palestinian place names mentioned in the Zenon archive
(among  bce).
It is the Greek Joshua itself that brings us to a better solution. In Josh
: the “kings of Phoenicia” (éðòðëä éëìî/ο' βασιλε?ς τIς Φοινκης) are
mentioned for the land west of the river Jordan. There is no reason to sup-
pose that the translator thought of the Phoenicians in the Lebanon area.

16 Eusebius: Das Onomasticon der biblischen Ortsnamen (ed. E. Klostermann; Leipzig

; repr. Hildesheim: ), ,–.

 the geographical shape of the unconquered land 

In : we find τν χραν τDν Φοινκων for Hebrew ïòðë õøà, indicat-
ing the countryside that was harvested by the Israelites immediately after
they passed the river Jordan to enter the promised land. This choice once
more makes clear that the translation of “Phoenicia” for Canaan in :
was not just a slip of the translator’s pen. How, then, can we account for
the presence of “Sidonians” or “Phoenicians” in Palestine proper?
We know that in Persian times the political and economical admin-
istration of the coastal region of Palestine was entrusted to the Phoeni-
cians, more specifically to the kings of Tyre and Sidon.17 For the fourth
century bce, this state of affairs is confirmed by the description of the Syr-
ian and Phoenician coast by a Greek author whose work was transmitted
under the name of Skylax.18 He mentions an “Adarus (reconstruction of
the [corrupt] name by Galling), town of the Sidonians”; “Dor, town of the
Sidonians”; “Krokodilon polis of the Tyrians”; “Joppe” (mention of affil-
iation vacat) and “Ascalon, town of the Tyrians.” In this region we find
royal mints in Joppe and Ascalon under the Ptolemies. This would sug-
gest that the administration of these towns was no longer in the hands
of the Phoenicians. They will have been ruled by a Ptolemaic official.19
Yet, there can be no doubt that the Phoenicians had their trading posts in
these areas, most likely in their capitals. In the middle of the third century
bce we even find a Sidonian trading post in the Hinterland, in the Idu-
maean capital Marissa, at an important crossroads. Formally they con-
stituted an independent πολτευμα.20 Consequently, for the Greek trans-
lator of Joshua it was not surprising to find Phoenicians/Sidonians in a
geographical area which he otherwise considered to be Philistine. He may
have found a confirmation of this view in the text of Joel : where we
find Tyre, Sidon and úùìô úåìéìâ mentioned in one and the same context.

17 See A. Alt, “Galiläische Probleme : Die assyrische Provinz Megiddo und ihr
späteres Schicksal,” in: idem, Kleine Schriften zur Geschichte des Volkes Israel II (d ed.;
Munich ), –, esp. –.
18 K. Galling, “Die syrisch-palästinische Küste nach der Beschreibung bei Pseudo-

Skylax,” in idem, Studien zur Geschichte Israels im persischen Zeitalter (Tübingen ),
–, esp. –.
19 See U. Kahrstedt, Syrische Territorien in hellenistischer Zeit (Abhandlungen der

Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften zu Göttingen Philosophisch-historische Klasse, Neue

Folge XIX.; Berlin ), .
20 M. Hengel, Judentum und Hellenismus: Studien zu ihrer Begegnung unter besonderer

Berücksichtigung Palästinas bis zur Mitte des . Jh.s v. Chr. (d ed.; WUNT ; Tübingen
),  (lit.).
 cornelis den hertog

. Conclusion

Our discussion of Josh :– yielded the following results. The Greek
text displays a number of smaller variants which may be classified as
free renderings of a text similar to or identical with mt. In other cases
the Greek Joshua apparently witnesses to a text different from mt, or he
reflects an attempt of the Greek translator to make sense of a Vorlage that
was incomprehensible or corrupt. Alternatively, his Vorlage itself may
have been the result of an earlier attempt to make sense of a corrupt
Hebrew text. As a result, the geographical picture of Josh :– lxx
enlarges on the description of the Philistine area to be allotted to the
Israelite tribes, at the expense of the treatment of the Phoenician territory.
Consequently, as the Greek text of Josh :– displays a more or less
consistent description, it should not be used to “improve” the Hebrew
text on an incidental scale (e.g. by correcting äTò"î in : into äfòî or
äTòî, but see the pertinent footnote  above).
 “HOLY LAND” IN JOSHUA 18:1–10*

J. Cornelis de Vos

. Introduction

The second part of the book of Joshua, chapters –, which deals with
the distribution of the land, belongs to a late phase in the literary history
of the Hebrew Bible. God no longer plays an active role, as he had done in
larger parts of the Pentateuch. He is rather perceived to be present in the
land. This implied presence of God makes the land implicitly holy. I will
illustrate this by a closer look at the text and the history of Josh :–.

. Joshua :– as the Centre of the Land Division

Joshua :– forms the core of the chapters about the distribution of
the land. It is the compositional, geographical, ritual, and theological
centre.1
The chapters about the distribution of the land begin with an incite-
ment to take into possession the remaining land and with a statement
that the Transjordanian tribes had already received their land directly
from Moses (Joshua ; a recapitulation of Numbers ). After having
dealt with the area of the Transjordanian tribes, chapter  reintroduces
the land division, now for the Cisjordanian tribes (:–). After a story
about Kaleb (:–), in chapters  through , the first parts of the
Cisjordanian land are allotted: first to the tribe of Judah (ch. ), and then
to the house of Joseph, consisting of the tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh
(chs. –).

* I am happy to dedicate this article to Ed Noort, “Doktorvater” for a couple of years,

but a friend before, during, and after this period. Ad multos annos!—A draft of this article
was read at the Groningen congress of the Society of Biblical Literature, July , 
under the title “God Playing a Backstage Role in the Book of Joshua.”
1 See for detailed analyses for the following exposition: J.C. de Vos, Das Los Judas:

Über Entstehung und Ziele der Landbeschreibung in Josua  (VTSup ; Leiden ),
 j. cornelis de vos

With Josh :–, there is a break after this first distribution. Prepa-
rations are made for the distribution of the land to the seven remaining
tribes: The tent of meeting is pitched in Shiloh, a commission of three
men per tribe inspects the remaining land, and Joshua casts lots to deter-
mine which part of land goes to which tribe. After this break, in :
until the end of chapter , the remaining land is distributed by lots to
the seven remaining tribes.
Joshua :– thus appears in the centre of the narrative about the
distribution of the Cisjordanian land, distinguishing the more important
tribes of Judah and Joseph from the seven less important remaining
tribes.2 However, it is also central in another way. By allotting a first part
of land, a geographical centre is created: approximately between the area
of Judah and Joseph, in Shiloh. As will be outlined, it is irrelevant that this
centre is not exactly in the middle between the areas of Judah and Joseph.
It is a cognitive geographical centre, a centre in a mental map. And here
applies the famous slogan of Jonathan Z. Smith: “map is not territory.”3
This textual and mental map centre can furthermore be understood
ritually: the text notes that ìàøùé­éðá úãò­ìë, “the whole assembly of
the Israelites,” a phrase with ritual connotations and well known from
the Priestly writer,4 gets together in Shiloh, where the tent of meeting is
pitched, and the ritual lots are cast.

. Naming “God” in Joshua :–

Joshua :– is also a theological centre. Contrary to most of Joshua

–, where God is hardly ever mentioned, in Josh :– äåäé,
“Yhwh,” occurs six times.5 In verse  “the Lord, the God of your fathers,”

esp. –, –, and –. See for a recent detailed treatment of Josh :–:
H. Seebass, “Versuch zu Josua XVIII –,” VT  () –.
2 It is obvious that the tribe of Judah is the most important one within Joshua –,

the part about the Cisjordanian tribes. The description of its area is the first and most
extensive of all subsequent descriptions. The area of Joseph comes directly after the one
of Judah. It is less extensive than the one of Judah and comparable with the description of
the area of Benjamin, whose tribe, on its turn, is the most important tribe of the remaining
seven. More arguments are offered in the course of this article.
3 J.Z. Smith, Map is not Territory: Studies in the History of Religions (Chicago ),

esp. –.
4 Cf. Exod :, ; :, , ,  inter alia.
5 Josh :, ,  (×), , . In the remaining corpus of Joshua –, äåäé occurs only

in :, , , ; :, , , , , ,  (×),  (×), ; :; : (×), ; :, .
 “holy land” in joshua :– 

is recalled, and every time the lot is mentioned it is made clear that the lot
will be or is cast “before the Lord.”6 However, God is hardly ever directly
responsible for the distribution of the land. We only hear that the lot
is cast “before the Lord,” which implies that God indirectly controls the
decision by lot.
Returning to the first verse of chapter  we can find a more important
reference to God: the tent of meeting is pitched, traditionally the place
where God can be met (Exod :– inter alia). However, a closer look
at this phrase reveals that it is awkward, to say the least. It reads åðéëùéå
ãòåî ìäà­úà íù, literarily “and they let dwell (ïëù Hiphil) there the tent
of meeting.” This is strange because either one dwells in a tent or one
pitches a tent. It would be more usual to say: “they pitched a tent to stay
in” or “they pitched a tent to have someone stay in that tent.” In the
special case of the tent of meeting, God must be present in this tent in
some way.7 The peculiar phrase “they let dwell there the tent of meeting”
occurs only here.8 However, the phrase can also be read differently: íÖ,
“there,” can, without the vowel, be read as íÖ, meaning “name,” and
thus “name of God.” Therefore it becomes possible to read “and they let
the name, namely, the name of God, dwell,” a theme known from, e.g.
Deuteronomy .9 Furthermore åðéëùéå alludes paronomastically to ïëùî,
“the tabernacle.” Admittedly, this proposal is speculative, but not at all
impossible. If this observation is correct, there are three references to the
presence of Yhwh on earth hidden in this verse: the tabernacle, the tent
of meeting, and God’s name.
Word plays occur throughout the literary history of the Bible, but
word plays referring to broad theological themes are generally of a later
date, since the theologoumena referred to, must, in some way, already
belong to the socio-religious normative memory, in order to take effect.10

6 Josh :, , .

7 Cf. the frequent connection of ãòåî ìäà (çúô), “(the entrance of) the tent of
meeting,” with äåäé (éðôì), “(before) Yhwh”; see out of many examples Exod :.
8 Cf. with similar, but different wordings Ps : and furthermore Num :; Jer

:; Josh :, , .

9 Deut :, , and further: :; :, , ; :; Neh :. Cf. the study of

S.L. Richter, The Deuteronomistic History and the Name Theology: leshakken shemo sham
in the Bible and the Ancient Near East (BZAW ; Berlin ). Interestingly, in the
Mishnah Josh : is seen in connection with Deut : (mZebah. . :); cf. J. Neusner,
Introduction to Rabbinic Literature (ABRL; New York ), .
10 For word plays in the Bible in general see, among others, E.L. Greenstein, “Wordplay,

Hebrew,” ABD :–.

 j. cornelis de vos

They frequently occur in later Jewish writings such as the Septuagint,

and very often in rabbinic writings, as well as in the New Testament,
all of these being text corpuses that draw on another text corpus, that
is, (parts of) the so-called Old Testament.11 The Septuagint translators,
for example, rendered the Hebrew verb ïëù, “to dwell, to stay,” with the
Greek verb σκηνGω, literally “to pitch a tent,” only to reach assonance in
the consonants s-k-n; a procedure that was taken over by the translator of
Ben Sira (Sir :, ) and by the writer of the Gospel of John (John :)
among others.12
Once our ears are tuned into such word play, more could be discerned
within the text of Josh :–, of which I will only give one example.
In my opinion, íú÷ìçîë in :b could very well be a pun.13 Its stem is
÷ìç, “to divide,” and within the context íú÷ìçîë means something like
“and Joshua divided the land to the Israelites according to their divisions.”
It is not quite clear what is meant by the phrase “according to their
divisions,” which had not been introduced; and it also contradicts other
criteria of land distribution in the text, such as inheritances (íúìçð éôì)
in : and cities (íéøòì) in :. The most common context for ú÷ìçî,
“division,” are the divisions of the Levites, the temple personnel, and
those from the people of Israel who serve one month at the temple as
described in  Chronicles –.14 Strikingly, in  Chronicles – it is

11 Especially in the Mishnah puns occur in almost every sentence. See B. Kirschner,
“Wortspiele,” in Jüdisches Lexikon: Ein enzyklopädisches Handbuch des jüdischen Wissens
in vier Bänden (ed. G. Herlitz and B. Kirschner; Berlin ), .:–.
12 Sir :, : “Lady Wisdom,” a hypostasis of God, pitches her tent (κατασκηνGω)

in Heaven and among Israel (a Hebrew text of ch.  is not extant). In John :, it is no
coincidence that the δGξα (ãåáë) is referred to besides σκηνGω, as they are both references
to God. Cf. also Exod :; Ps  ():; Ps  ():; Joel :; Ezek :; Lev
:; Sach :. See for further examples G.B. Caird, “Homoeophony in the Septuagint,”
in Jews, Greeks and Christians: Religious Cultures in Late Antiquity. Essays in Honor of
William David Davies (ed. R. Hamerton-Kelly and R. Scroggs; SJLA ; Leiden ),
–; F. Siegert, Zwischen Hebräischer Bibel und Altem Testament: Eine Einführung in
die Septuaginta (Münsteraner Judaistische Studien ; Münster ), –; E. Tov, The
Greek and Hebrew Bible: Collected Essays on the Septuagint (VTSup ; Leiden ), ,
–; see for a definition p. : “Homophony (sound-resemblance), that is, the choice
of Greek equivalents which resemble the sound of their Hebrew-Aramaic counterparts
but differ in meaning.”
13 The remaining word plays are: íçìùàå (:), “and I will send them,” assonates with

êéìùà (:) and êìùéå (:), both connected to casting the lots; å÷ìçúé, “they shall
divide,” (:) assonates with the unusual Hitpael form åëìäúä of the verb êìä, “they
went,” (:).
14  Chron :; :; :, , ; :, , , , ; :, , ;  Chron :; :;

:; :, , , ; :, ; Neh :. As Seebass rightly points out, there are
 “holy land” in joshua :– 

the lot that determines the timetable of the tasks, just as in Josh :–
it is the lot which determines the tribal allotments. Therefore, it could be
possible that íú÷ìçîë forms an allusion not to the division of the land,
but to the sections of temple personnel. If read in such an intertextual
way, the divisions of land could be seen as “servants” of the sanctuary
(Josh :) in analogy to the servants of the temple.
This sounds all highly speculative and presupposes a compositional
date of Joshua :– after or contemporary with  Chronicles –.
The question is if it is feasible that the author of Josh :, respectively
:– is apt to use such a word play, since this seems to be a feature of
the rd century bce onwards. To state that Josh : is a late text would
be a circular argument. However, this is exactly what I shall try to prove
in the following by literary-critical arguments. I will not be able to date
it to a particular century, only to a late phase in the literary growth of the
book of Joshua and to the Hebrew Bible in general.

. Lots as Instruments for Determining God’s Will

Similar to the division of tasks by lots in  Chronicles – the land

in Joshua is divided by lots. In ancient times these lots were thought
to reveal the will of God.15 However, it is my opinion that the whole
theme of land distribution by lot is secondary, in Joshua – and in
the announcements in the book of Numbers.16 To give a few examples: in
the announcement of the land division in Num :–, the role of lots
is unclear. In Num :– the people are counted, after which it is said
that each house receives a part of land according to the amount of people

also occurrences in which ú÷ìçî is connected to the division of the land (“Versuch zu
Josua XVIII –,”  n. ). I do not think, however, that Ezek : can be a proof for
this use, since the description of the land in Ezekiel – is highly ideological with the
temple and the cult of Jerusalem in the foreground. This text would rather support my
thesis. Only the occurrences of Josh : and : remain as proof texts for a connection
of ú÷ìçî and land division. However, the understanding and function of the phrase
íú÷ìçîë in both texts is as problematic as in :b.
15 See esp. A.M. Kitz, “The Hebrew Terminology of Lot Casting and Its Ancient Near

Eastern Context,” CBQ  () –, and idem, “Undivided Inheritance and Lot
Casting in the Book of Joshua,” JBL  () –. Unfortunately, Kitz dwells
upon the ancient Mesopotamian rites as background without really going into the textual
function of lot casting in the Bible.
16 Pace Seebass, “Versuch zu Josua XVIII –.”
 j. cornelis de vos

belonging to that house. In other words, if a house consists of many mem-

bers, it receives a larger part of land, and a smaller house gets a smaller
part of land. This announcement is harshly interrupted, introduced by
êà “however,” by the announcement that the land shall be divided by lot
(ìøåâ). This does not fit with a division according to the number of people,
which is awkwardly corrected by the following statement: “Their inher-
itance shall be apportioned according to lot between the larger and the
smaller” (Num :). But then, division by lots becomes useless.17 Actu-
ally, we have the same problem in Josh :–. Although it is not said
that the land is divided according to the number of members of a tribe,
it is to be asked, what else could have been the function of the commis-
sion that inspected the land. If the land had to be divided in equal parts
to the tribes, after which the lots only had to decide which part goes to
which tribe, this should surely have been stated. Also in the introduc-
tion to the division of the Cisjordanian land (Josh :–), a division by
the lot seems to be inserted later (see § ). “Lot” comes too late (:a)
after no less than three preceding division instances mentioned in :.
It occurs just before the fulfilment formula in :b, so that a connection
to the announcement in Numbers is established.
If this is true, then we have to pay special attention to the use of
ìøåâ, “lot,” in Joshua – in order to know how a redactor/interpolator
wanted to adapt the meaning of the text. In Joshua  and  the lots
are cast, literally “come out” or “come up” (ìøåâ + àöé or äìò), for the
seven remaining tribes; in chapters – the territories of Judah and
Joseph are lots (ìøåâ + äéä), and there are no lots, which are cast.18 In
the first instance, the lots are instruments by which the allocation of the

17 Differently R. Achenbach, Die Vollendung der Tora: Studien zur Redaktionsgeschichte

des Numeribuches im Kontext von Hexateuch und Pentateuch (Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für
altorientalische und biblische Rechtsgeschichte ; München ), –, esp. .
18 ìøåâ + äìò: Josh :; :; ìøåâ + àöé: Josh :, , , , ; ìøåâ + äéä: Josh

:; :; See the table in De Vos, Das Los Judas, . The fact that ìøåâ + àöé also occurs
in Josh : has to do with the redaction-historical process in which a description of
the house of Joseph (:–) was inserted before those of the tribes of Manasseh (:–
) and Ephraim (:–); see, for example, A. Elliger, Die Frühgeschichte der Stämme
Ephraim und Manasse (unpublished diss.; Rostock ); H. Seebass, “Zur Exegese der
Grenzbeschreibungen von Jos. ,–,,” ZDPV  () –; C.H.J. de Geus,
“Manasseh (Place). Manassite,” ABD :–. For the -tribes system, in which the
tribes of Manasseh and Ephraim were summarised as House of Joseph to enable the
Levites to enter the system, see C.H.J. de Geus, The Tribes of Israel: An Investigation
into Some of the Presuppositions of M. Noth’s Amphictiony Hypothesis (SSN ; Assen
).
 “holy land” in joshua :– 

areas to the tribes is determined; in the second instance, the lots are areas
which are allotted to the tribes (“allotments”). No lots could be cast here,
because it is not until Josh :– that the casting of lots is formally
introduced. The question remains, however, why the territories of Judah
and Joseph are addressed as lots. If they had not been called “lots,” they
would have been profane parts of land, in which the ritual casting of lots
could not have taken place, because lot casting would, in that case, have
taken place in a part of the land which would have had no connection
with God, or, to word it differently: which would not have been a holy
area. This is moreover the reason why not all of the areas could be divided
by lot—when the lot casting would have started, there would not have
been a holy area yet. In the composition at hand concerning the division
of the land in the book of Joshua a graded holiness, to use a concept
worked out by Philip Peter Jenson, can be discerned.19 On the one hand,
there is a part of the land that as lots is more directly connected to the
will of God, namely the territories of Judah and Joseph. On the other
hand, there is a piece of land that, being assigned by lots, is indirectly
connected to the will of God. Shiloh (:) is assigned to the middle of
the former between “Judah continuining in its territory on the south, and
the house of Joseph in their territory on the north” (:). In the centre
of this area, so to say, the holier area, the tent of meeting is erected, and
as allusions to his Name and to the tabernacle insinuate, God seems to
dwell there.20

19 P.P. Jenson, Graded Holiness: A Key to the Priestly Conception of the World (JSOTSup
; Sheffield ).
20 It is clear that Seebass uses a different approach when he writes that “die Überlegun-

gen von de Vos, Los, S.  zum Zelt der Begegnung als ideeller Mitte der Stämme ver-
fehlt [sind]; denn Silo lag in Efraim, nicht in der Mitte zwischen Juda und Joseph, zu
dem Efraim gehörte” (Versuch zu Josua XVIII –,  n. ). He considers :b to be
a purely geographic description (ibid.,  n. ). However, I agree with his critique on
my earlier argument that äìù, “Shiloh,” (:, , , ) is an interpolation in this pericope
(ibid., –,  n. , and  n. ). Nevertheless, we should be aware of the fact
that in later times, Shiloh comes to the fore—in retying to older traditions—, for exam-
ple in the lxx (cf. in Joshua: :, , where “Shiloh” replaces “Shechem”) as well as in
some writings from the second/first century bce up to the first century ce; see E. Noort
“Der Streit um den Altar: Josua  und seine Rezeptionsgeschichte,” in Kult, Konflikt und
Versöhnung: Beiträge zur kultischen Sühne in religiösen, sozialen und politischen Auseinan-
dersetzungen des antiken Mittelmeerraumes (ed. R. Albertz; AOAT ; Münster ),
–.
 j. cornelis de vos

. The Absence of God in the Second Part of the Book of Joshua

All said before is on an ideal, cognitive level. On the level of narrative

analysis, God does not play a significant role in the texts about the
distribution of the land. For example, God does not speak directly in
Josh :–. In most texts of the second part of the book of Joshua
there are only references to God, and then mostly to commandments
given to Moses. God seems to speak directly only with Moses, not with
Joshua, apart from a few exceptions.21 Even in the introduction to the
distribution of the Cisjordanian land, God plays a backstage role. It is
said in Josh :– (NRSV):
These are the inheritances that the Israelites received in the land of Canaan,
which the priest Eleazar, and Joshua son of Nun, and the heads of the
families of the tribes of the Israelites distributed to them. Their inheritance
was by lot, as the Lord had commanded Moses for the nine and one-half
tribes.
It seems as if these statements have consecutively been corrected: . the
Israelites receive their land totally profane; . a commission of three
groups, namely a priest, Joshua, and the heads of the families of the
tribes, distribute the land. It therefore becomes less profane. . The land
is divided by lot, the instrument used to know the will of God. This
corresponds to the commandment of the Lord to Moses. Eventually God
has some influence, but still indirectly, and God does not speak to Joshua.
Two arguments e silentio can be added: The glory (ãåáë) of God is
absent;22 there is no mention of the tent of meeting apart from : and
its resumption in :. The ïëùî, “the tabernacle,” is only mentioned
outside our text complex, in Josh : and .

. The Redaction-History of Joshua :–

In order to determine at what (relative) time the second part of the book
of Joshua was composed, one must closely compare it to the later parts of
the book of Numbers. Interestingly, we have many literary connections
between Joshua – and Numbers –, which are not mere coin-
cidences. These texts are, in some way, related to each other. Numbers

21Josh :; :. In : it is not clear to whom God speaks.

22 ãåáëoccurs within the book of Joshua only in :, but there it has a different
meaning.
 “holy land” in joshua :– 

– is generally considered to be late on the basis of language and con-

tent. Both texts do not belong to the Priestly Document, because essential
themes are absent or are not P-like. In P, God or the glory of God is not
bound to the land.23 God travels with the people of Israel, but is not tied
to the soil of Israel. In Josh : the reverse seems to be the case. The
presence of Yhwh seems to be bound to the land (the Cisjordanian), and
Yhwh converts, by this presence, the land into a holy land.
The theological notions in Josh : reflect the concerns of both the
Priestly writer—by words such as ìä÷ Niphal, äãò, ãòåî ìäà, the possible
allusion to ïëùî, and ùáë Niphal24—and the Deuteronomistic writer, by
the connection of íù with ïëù Hiphil.25 This, then, causes me to consider
a compositional date for the latest composition stage of Josh :– after
both writings had held some sort of canonical status. Indeed, if íú÷ìçîë
in :b is really an allusion to topics represented in  Chronicles –,
then Josh :– must be very late in the literary history of the Bible.
It is my view that Josh :– is to be situated at a time in which
the Torah and Moses were interconnected and in which God’s direct
actions and speeches could be described as over. Nevertheless, the later
writers on the distribution of the land looked for a divine legitimation
of its distribution, so they attempted to show that God played a role,
albeit indirectly. They achieved their aim by alluding to theologoumena
of the Pentateuch and by the narratives about the use of lots, thus reviving
an old metaphor that had long been theologically sanctioned. The time
of Moses’ dialogue with God and the time of the development of the
Pentateuch were over.26
Place and form of Josh :– are not original. The number of three
men from seven tribes is in two ways uncommon: nowhere in the Bible
a tradition of seven tribes can be discerned. Either there are twelve

23 “Glory of God” is absent in the later parts of Numbers as well.

24 For ùáë Niphal see the contribution of U. Neumann-Gorsolke, “And the Land Was
Subdued before Them . . . ”? Some Remarks on the Meaning of ùáë in Josh : and
Related Texts,” in this volume. See B.D. Sommer, “Conflicting Constructions of Divine
Presence in the Priestly Tabernacle,” BibInt  (), –, with respect to ìäà, ìäà
ãòåî, and ïëùî.
25 Josh : looks also Deuteronomistic.
26 Cf. J. Maier, Pentateuch, Torah und Recht zwischen Qumran und Septuaginta (Stu-

dien zur jüdischen Bibel und ihrer Geschichte ; Berlin ), – at : “Wer
war befügt, etwas als Torah zu proklamieren, und wie lange funktionierte diese Instanz?”
(). Cf. also idem, “Der Lehrer der Gerechtigkeit,” in: Interesse am Judentum: Die Franz-
Delitzsch-Vorlesungen – (ed. J.C. de Vos and F. Siegert; Münsteraner Judaistische
Studien ; Münster ), –.
 j. cornelis de vos

Israelite tribes, or there are ten Cisjordanian tribes; or no number is

mentioned at all, and instead, the tribes are referred to as “the tribes
of Israel.” Besides, three men from seven tribes makes  men, which
is an “unelegant” number. It is very likely that the number seven was
added later, since there are several occasions where :– addresses
the Israelites in general.27 The awkward position of the appended second
subject íéèáù äòáù, “seven tribes,” at the very end of Josh : makes this
particularly clear.28 The other occurrences of “seven” (:, , ) can also
be cut out without problems.29 At an initial stage the corpus of the land
division, without the device of the lots, dealt with the Israelites in general
and the land in general (:, aα; :, ). Only afterwards this was
corrected by specifying and explaining the number of the nine tribes and
the half-tribe of Manasseh (:aβ, b; :b, , ). Remnants of this initial
stage can be found in Josh :– as well. Josh : (without “the seven
tribes”), , *, bα, *, b* follow what is announced in Josh :: the
remaining land must be possessed (ùøé: :; :). Joshua commands a
floor commission of three men per tribe to inspect the land.30 After their
return, the land is divided to the tribes.
At this initial stage, the whole corpus of the distribution of the tribal
areas had only one introduction: :, aα; ,, . At a later phase, in
order to alineate Joshua and the Pentateuch, chapter  dealt mainly
with the Transjordanian tribes, which had already received their por-
tions directly from Moses (Numbers ).31 For the tribes which had not

27 ìàøùé éðá: :, , , , as well as äãò in :. Also íëéúåáà, “your ancestors”
(:), and åðéäìà, “our God” (:), point indirectly to all Israel as well as the undefined
distributive use of èáù, “tribe” (:).
28 The first subject is the whole phrase íúìçð­úà å÷ìç­àì øùà, “those whose inheri-

tance had not yet been apportioned.”

29 I would like to reverse the statement of Seebass: “Schließlich ist an xviii – längst

aufgefallen, daß mal die ganze ‘Gemeinde’ (äãò) oder die Israeliten insgesamt, mal nur
sieben Stämme unter ihnen, Josuas Gegenüber bilden, aber nur die Siebenzahl seine
jetzige Stelle erklärt, . . . ” (“Versuch zu Josua XVIII –,” ) into the statement that
“die jetzige Stelle die Siebenzahl erklärt.” Seebass himself considers :, –, and b as
not belonging to his “Grundschicht” of Josh :–. So for him only the occurrence
of “seven” in :a remains (ibid. ). “[Dort] lässt sich die Siebenzahl nicht so einfach
herauslösen, und v.  ist der Erzählung sicher unentbehrlich” (ibid., ). It is my opinion
that v. a belongs to the Grundschicht, but only until äåáúëéå, “they wrote it [sc. the land]
down,” and maybe until íéøòì, “according to cities.” That what comes afterwards (äòáùì
øôñ­ìò íé÷ìç, “in seven divisions in a book”) is not necessary for the narrative.
30 For the term “floor commission” (“Flurkommission”) see O. Bächli, “Von der Liste

zur Beschreibung: Beobachtungen und Erwägungen zu Jos. –,” ZDPV  () –

, esp. .
31 See for the status of Transjordan in Joshua : E. Noort, “Transjordan in Joshua
 “holy land” in joshua :– 

received their land from Moses, a new introduction had to be created

(Josh :–). By bringing in the device of the lot, a further introduction
was needed, because, firstly, a piece of holy land had to be established, as
outlined above, in order to cast the lots. At this stage Josh :– was
moved to its present position and it became necessary to mention and
explain the number seven of the seven remaining tribes (:, , , , ).
By this move a “holy centre” of land was created.32

. Conclusion

Joshua – is a late composition. It uses P- and Dtr-like language

and plays with their theological concepts. The time of an “unbiased”
encounter between God and the leaders of the Israelite people is over.
God can only be perceived implicitly as being present in the land.
By compositional processes within Joshua – a graded holiness
of the land was achieved. The centre of Israel lies in Shiloh (Josh :–
). It is there where the tent of meeting is erected, and where the lots
are cast before Yhwh, both attestations of the presence of God. If I am
correct with my claim that there are allusions to the tabernacle and that
the name of God is hidden in Josh :, then the implied presence of
God is even reinforced. This, so to say holy centre lies between the area
of Judah and that of the house of Joseph (:), being areas, which had in
Joshua – been described as lots (allotments). So, the areas itself are
lots, and this, as the decision of the lots comes from God, makes them in
some way divine. At the holy centre in Shiloh between the two less holier
parts of the allotments of Judah and Joseph the lots are cast for the seven
remaining tribes. Their areas are assigned by lots, they are themselves no
lots. If ú÷ìçî, “division,” in :b is really an allusion to the divisions
of cultic personnel as known from Neh : and  Chronicles –,
then the tribal areas function as kinds of “servants” around the holy
centre in Shiloh, making the whole area holy, although graded from
centre to periphery. Only the status of the Transjordanian area and its
tribes remains unclear. They are important insofar as they had received

: Some Aspects,” in Lectures Held at the Third International Conference on the History
and Archaeology of Jordan (vol.  of Studies in the History and Archaeology of Jordan; ed.
A. Hadidi; London ), –.
32 Also Seebass (“Versuch zu Josua XVIII –”) concludes that Josh :– was

secondarily added to its present position.

 j. cornelis de vos

their portions directly from Moses (Numbers ; Joshua ). In Joshua
 they seem, however, to live beyond the borders of the land of Yhwh
(Josh :).33 The evoked mental map of Joshua – can therefore be
visualised as follows:

Fig. : Graded Holiness in Joshua –.

33 Noort “Der Streit um den Altar,” : “Die eigentliche Frage ist aber die nach
dem Verhältnis zwischen Cis- und Transjordanien. Lang sind die Zeiten her, daß in
einer deuteronomistischen Sicht Transjordanien noch zum verheißenem Land gerechnet
wurde und eben dieses verheißene Land nicht beim Jordan, sondern beim Arnon anfing.
Die Provinz Gilead ist politisches Ausland. Und in der schillernden Geschichte zwischen
West und Ost kann die vermutete Unreinheit des Ostjordanlandes tiefe Wurzel haben.
Das Land mag Ausland sein, aber die dort wohnenden, ethnisch verwandten Gruppen
gehören sehr wohl zum Volk YHWHs.” D.A. Knight, “Joshua  and the Ideology of
Space,” in Imagining Biblical Worlds: Studies in Spatial, Social, and Historical Constructs
in Honor of James W. Flanagan (eds. D.M. Gunn and P.M. McNutt, JSOTSup ;
London ), –, observes the same discrepancy and postulates a conflict between
inhabitants of Yehud and those in exile in the east.
 “AND THE LAND WAS SUBDUED BEFORE THEM . . . ”?
SOME REMARKS ON THE MEANING OF
ùáë IN JOSHUA 18:1 AND RELATED TEXTS*

Ute Neumann-Gorsolke

. Introduction

As E. Noort stated many scholars dealing with the Priestly source have
pointed out a relationship between Josh : and Gen :P.1 One of
the main reasons for this opinion is the verb ùáë that occurs in both
verses together with õøà “earth/land.”2 Therefore it has been assumed
that Josh : belongs to the Priestly source or is at least the work of
a Priestly or post-Priestly redactor.3 While Lohfink saw Josh : as
“die Erfüllungsnotiz von Gen :,”4 nowadays the opinio communis has
come up that Josh : is part of a redactional Priestly work.5
While the literary preference of Gen : to Josh : seems to be
reflected carefully by many scholars, the understanding of ùáë which
occurs in Qal in Gen : but in Niphal in Josh : lacks this intensive

* For Ed Noort on the occasion of his th birthday with best wishes from Hamburg.
1 E. Noort, Das Buch Josua: Forschungsgeschichte und Problemfelder (EdF ;
Darmstadt ), –.
2 Other indications are the priestly words ìàøùé éðá úãò, “the congregation of the

Israelites,” and ãòåî ìäà, “tent of meeting,” in Josh :.

3 Cf. Noort, Josua, –. Noort refers to the works and articles of J. Blenkinsopp,

“The Structure of P,” CBQ  () –; N. Lohfink, Die Priesterschrift und die
Geschichte (VTSup ; Leiden ), –; A.G. Auld, “Creation and Land: Sources
and Exegesis,” in Proceedings of the World Congress of Jewish Studies A (Jerusalem
), –; E. Zenger, Gottes Bogen in den Wolken: Untersuchungen zu Komposition und
Theologie der priesterschriftlichen Urgeschichte (SBS ; Stuttgart ); and E. Cortese,
Josua –: Ein priesterschriftlicher Abschnitt im deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerk
(OBO ; Freiburg ); Zenger, Gottes Bogen, , first thought that Gen : depends
on Josh : and projects the gift of the land onto the creation story, but he revokes this
idea in the d edition of , .
4 Lohfink, Priesterschrift,  n. .
5 Cf., for example, Cortese, Josua, –, and V. Fritz, Das Buch Josua (HAT .;

Tübingen ), .

 ute neumann-gorsolke

reflection. In both cases—and even for the further occurences6—the

translation of ùáë “to subdue” (Qal) or “to be subdued” (Niphal) is the
common one and seems to be inspired by the idea of oppression and
(land) conquering. The following table of versions of the Bible illustrates
this:

Translation Gen :: äùáëå Josh :: íäéðôì äùáëð õøàäå

lxx κα: κατακυριε σατε α*τIς κα: < γI κρατ7Bη Cπ5 α*τDν
Vulgata . . . subicite eam . . . et fuit eis terra subiecta
Luther () . . . machet sie euch untertan . . . und das Land war ihnen
unterworfen.
New King James . . . and subdue it; And the land was subdued
() before them.
New Revised . . . and subdue it. The land lay subdued before
Standard Version them.
New Jerusalem Bible . . . and subdue it. . . . the whole country had
been subdued for them.
NBG-vertaling . . . en onderwerpt haar . . . aangezien de streek
() onderworpen was en te
hunner beschikking stond
Groot Nieuws Bijbel Jullie moeten de aarde aan je Het land was al door de
() onderwerpen Israëlieten onderworpen
Nieuwe . . . en breng haar onder je Het land was al veroverd.
Bijbelvertaling gezag

One could easily complete this table by mentioning translations of differ-

ent commentaries on the books of Genesis and Joshua. In our case only a
few examples concerning Josh : will be enough.7 M. Noth translated
“ . . . das ganze Land aber lag unterworfen vor ihnen,”8 and the new com-
mentary by V. Fritz repeats this translation.9 R.G. Boling also underlines
this understanding of ùáë in his commentary in : “The land had
been subdued before them.”10

6 See Jer : (Hiphil), ; Neh :;  Chr :; Esth :;  Sam :; Mic :aβ;

Num :, ;  Chr :.

7 For Gen : cf. U. Neumann-Gorsolke, Herrschen in den Grenzen der Schöpfung:

Aspekte alttestamentlicher Anthropologie am Beispiel von Psalm , Genesis  und ver-

wandten Texten (WMANT ; Neukirchen-Vluyn ),  n. .
8 M. Noth, Das Buch Josua (HAT .; Tübingen ), .
9 Fritz, Josua, .
10 R.G. Boling; Joshua: A New Translation with Notes and Commentary (AB ; Garden

City ).
 “and the land was subdued before them . . . ”? 

N. Lohfink,11 K. Koch, and other scholars have already criticized the

“violant” understanding of ùáë in Gen : and have stated that “die
europäischen Übersetzungen der Bibel [untermauern das] gängig gewor-
dene Verständnis . . ., in Gen , würden Erde und Tiere den Menschen
zu schrankenloser Verfügung und beliebiger Ausbeutung übereignet”12
though the idea of subduing the earth does not go well with the situation
of a just created world without any enemies and with the idea of a rich
world of trees and green that gives food to men and animals. Neverthe-
less, the idea of oppression and conquering seems to match the book of
Joshua and there seems, at first sight, no need for further reflection about
the translation “and the land was subdued before them.” But if there is
a relation between Gen : and Josh :, one has to ask whether the
situation in Josh : is not much the same as in Gen :: a situation
of warfare is not mentioned in the latter text. The land is thought to be
without inhabitants in both cases.13 How can an understanding of ùáë as
“subdued” then be convincing?
Besides, the use of the preposition plus suffix íéäðôì is exceptional in
relation to a situation of subduing.14 Some translations even take it as
the logical subject of the äùáëð action and translate: “by them” (cf. lxx
and Groot Nieuws Bijbel), but this is not within the grammatical rules15
and it is not in harmony with the intention of the verse. Josh : tells
that the congregation of the Israelites assembled at Shiloh and set up the
tent of meeting. This resembles a cultic situation, and the Israelites are
waiting for the apportioning of their inheritance. The phrase äùáëð õøàäå
íäéðôì, mostly translated with “and the land was subdued before them,”
is a statement concerning the land, and the Israelites remain passive.16
The idea of oppression and violence seems to be strange in this priestly

11 N. Lohfink, “‘Machet euch die Erde untertan’?” Orientierung  () –.

12 K. Koch, “Gestaltet die Erde, doch heget das Leben! Einige Klarstellungen zum
dominium terrae in Gen ” (), in idem, Spuren des hebräischen Denkens: Beiträge
zur alttestamentlichen Theologie (Gesammelte Aufsätze ; ed. B. Janowski and M. Krause;
Neukirchen-Vluyn ), – at . See also Neumann-Gorsolke, Herrschen.
13 Every time the idea of expelling or suppression is mentioned, the verb ùøé Hiphil

and a personal object are used; cf. Josh :; :; :, , while the possession of the
land is expressed by the idea of stepping with the feet on the land (cf. Josh :; :).
14 See the exegesis of Num :, ; and  Chr : below.
15 “In the complete passive, the agent may be indicated by a prepositional phrase in a

. . . or ì . . . ; the means or instrument may be given after a . . . or ïî . . . ” (B.K. Waltke and

M. O’Connor, An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax [Winona Lake, Ind., ] :
..–; cf. W. Gesenius et al., Hebräische Grammatik [Darmstadt ], § –).
16 S. Wagner, “ùáë,” ThWAT :, is of the opinion that in all cases where kbš and earth

are mentioned the Israelites are the logical subject.

 ute neumann-gorsolke

influenced context. So the question is how this phrase and especially

ùáë can be understood in Josh : and whether one can find a more
convincing translation/understanding than “to be subdued.”
The further investigation first deals with the Semitic root kbš and
its different semantic realizations, especially when mentioned in rela-
tion to “land/earth” (). Then, the biblical parallels in Numbers  and
 Chronicles  that also share the syntagma íäéðôì are examined and
compared with Josh : (). Finally, in the summary we present the new
way of understanding ùáë and introduce its theological implication ().

. The Semitic Root kbš

The dictionaries show the same picture about the Hebrew root ùáë as
mentioned above. For instance, Brown-Driver-Briggs has as its general
meaning “to subdue” (with regard to Mic : they mention a figurative
sense) and in a context of slavery they have “to bring into bondage”17
as the dominant meaning of ùáë. Comparable translations are proposed
by D.J.A. Clines in his “Dictionary of Classical Hebrew.” Corresponding
to different objects he suggests a dominant meaning “subdue, make
subservient, rape woman.”18
S. Wagner19 is also of the opinion that Hebrew ùáë represents the
Semitic root kbš and has the overall meaning “unterwerfen,” i.e. to sub-
due. Besides this, Wagner formulates two main characteristics of this
root. () ùáë belongs to those Hebrew verbs that articulate oppression
and violence. () ùáë has always a “stronger” subject and a “weaker”
object.20
Those characterisations might make sense when a relation between
people is referred to, but it must be questioned whether they are helpful
when the relation between the Israelites and their promised land is
implied, especially when no further inhabitants are spoken of.
Therefore—in my opinion—it is necessary to look whether there are
different understandings of the root kbš in other Semitic languages that
can give a new input for this semantic discussion. Brown-Drivers-Briggs

17 F. Brown, S.R. Driver, and C.A. Briggs, eds., A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the

Old Testament with an Appendix Containing the Biblical Aramaic: Based on the Lexicon of
William Gesenius (Oxford ), .
18 D.J.A. Clines, ed., The Dictionary of Classical Hebrew (Sheffield ), :.
19 Wagner, ThWAT :–.
20 Wagner, ThWAT :.
 “and the land was subdued before them . . . ”? 

refers to the root kbš in Aramaic and Arabian meaning “tread down, beat
or make a path, (subdue).”21 The idea of “tread down” or “to step on”
that fits the related Hebrew noun Öák “footstool” mentioned in  Chr
: is also well known for Akkadian/Assyrian kabāsu. The Akkadisches
Handwörterbuch and the Assyrian Dictionary of the Oriental Institute of
the University of Chicago22 put the meaning “to step upon” in the first
place and then in the second place “to trample, to crush, to defeat an
enemy” and so on. It is of great interest that because of the wider spread
occurrence of the verb kabāsu the Assyrian dictionaries have much more
semantic differentiations that depend on the specific contexts of the verb
than the Hebrew dictionaries. With objects such as “land” or “area” the
meaning “subdue” is not mentioned23 but “betreten, treten auf ” (AHw)
or “to stride, to walk upon, to pace off ” (CAD ). Some examples might
show that this understanding of kabāsu is convincing in this context.
In a building inscription of Esarhaddon from Ninive one finds the
phrase:
. . . the mountains on which none of my royal predecessors ever set foot.
(ša ina šarrāni abbēja mamma la ik-bu-su)24
Probably Esarhaddon wants to underline that his campaign has reached
areas that no one else before even stepped upon. So he succeeded in
increasing the territory of Assyria, i.e. “prevailing of cosmos over the
surrounding chaos,”25 one of his royal duties.26

21 Cf. Brown, Lexicon, .

22 W. von Soden, Akkadisches Handwörterbuch (vol. ; Wiesbaden ) and J.A.
Brinkman et al., eds., The Assyrian Dictionary of the Oriental Institute of the University
of Chicago (vol. ; Chicago ).
23 Kabāsu can have the meaning “to subdue” in combination with “land,” but only if

“land” is understood as a metonym for hostile inhabitants of the land. See for example the
so called Nimrud-Letters, Letters of Sargon II (– bc), cf. ND , pl. XXXVII,
–: “Now Aššur, Ištar, Bel and Nabu (the apposition ‘my gods’ is missing in this
translation, U.N.-G.) have put this land under your feet. It shall be subjugated (ta-at-
tak-ba-as-as ki-i lib-bi-k [a d]u-ú [l] u)” (text and translation H.W.F. Saggs, “The Nimrud-
Letters —Part IV,” Iraq  [] –), cf. R.F. Harper, Assyrian and Babylonian
Letters (vols. –; Chicago –), . These examples are comparable with  Sam
:, that also deals with the subduing of countries and their people.
24 R. Borger, Die Inschriften Asarhaddons, Königs von Assyrien (AfOB ; Graz ),

 Episode A; IV  (English text: CAD .).

25 M. Liverani, “The Ideology of the Assyrian Empire,” in Power and Propaganda: A

Symposium on Ancient Empires (ed. M.T. Larsen; Mesopotamia ; Copenhagen )

– at .
26 The same idea is expressed in Borger, Asarhaddon,  Episode  A, IV , where
 ute neumann-gorsolke

On the Rassam-Cylinder col. VI – Ashurbanipal tells about his

campaign against Elam and emphasizes that he did not even stop entering
the sacred groves and destroying the mysteries by fire:
. . . the sacred groves into which no alien is admitted and within whose
boundaries no alien may walk (la i-ka-ba-su i-ta-ši-in).27
This example also shows that the understanding “to step on/to walk”
for kabāsu is convincing: Ashurbanipal wants to make clear that no
part of the area of Elam was not conquered by the Assyrians. Even the
sacred places were walked upon what perhaps implies that they lost their
sacredness and now belong to the Assyrians.
A further example from the Rassam-Cylinder col. II – mentions
the campaign of Ashurbanipal against Egypt. Ashurbanipal’s coming and
setting foot on the land made the leader of Memphis flee and implies
that now Ashurbanipal was considered as possessor of the land of Egypt.
kabāsu with object matu “land” needs not to be understood as “to sub-
due” but just as “to step on/to set foot on the land”:
. . . as soon as I set foot on Egyptian territory he abandoned Memphis (ša
ak-bu-su-mis. ir māt Mus. ur alume-im-pi ú-maš-šir-ma) and fled to Ni’ to
save his life.28
The Rassam-Cylinder also uses the root kabāsu with the object “land
of Assyria” to emphasize that Ashurbanipal has come back to his own
kingdom after a successful campaign against Kirbet and the Mannians
(col. III –):
Mit vieler Beute (und) schweren Geschenken kehrte ich wohlbehalten
zurück (und) betrat das Gebiet von Assyrien (ak-bu-sa mi-s. irmatû áššurki).29
To step on the territory of Assyria means to come back to his possession,
and it emphasizes that Assyria is no longer without a king and therefore
is no longer in danger to lose its stability and safety that the king is a
guarantee for. In queries to the Sungod during the Sargonid period, one
very often finds the question whether the king or the chief eunuch and
the army at his disposal will return safely from a campaign and “set foot

is mentioned that the Medes never stepped upon Assyrian land during the time of
Esarhaddon’s predecessors (la ik-bu-su qaqqarša).
27 Text cf. M. Streck, Assurbanipal und die letzten Assyrischen Könige bis zum Unter-

gang Ninives (VAB .; Leipzig ), –; translation: CAD ..
28 Text: Streck, Assurbanipal, –; translation: cf. CAD ..
29 Text and translation Streck, Assurbanipal, –.
 “and the land was subdued before them . . . ”? 

on Assyrian soil.” One example will be enough to illustrate this use of

kabāsu:
[Will Esarhaddon, king of Assyria], with his troops and camp, [return
and set fo]ot [on Assyrian soil? Will he safely enter] his palace in Nin-
eveh? [mdaš-šur–šeš–sum-na lugal kur–aš-šur].ki a-di erim.hi-šú ù ki-
kalxbad-šú [gur.meš-ni-i mi-s. ir kur–aš-šur i-kab]-ba-su-ú i-na é.gal-šú
šá uru.ni-na-a.30
The return of the king or his eunuch together with the troops into the own
country cannot imply the idea of subduing, but to set foot on Assyrian
soil means the return of Assyrian power, might and strength. When the
king and the troops set foot on the area of Assyria the danger of chaos and
instability is gone: the king takes possession of his land again. So there
might be again the notion of “taking the land as possession” in the root
kabāsu in this case.31
The last example is from an astrological report to an Assyrian king by
Nabû-mušes. i:
If the moon is surrounded by a halo, and Ninurta stands in it: my troops
will set foot in the enemy’s land. (ki kur kúr erim-ni i-kab-ba-a[s]).32
This astrological report tells the condition for conquering an enemy’s
land, but warfare or violence is not mentioned. Taking possession of the
land is expressed by the idea of setting foot on the land. This is a well
known symbolic act in Ancient Near East and also in the Hebrew Bible.33
M. Malul has shown that in Nuzi the transfer of property in sales adoptions
was symbolized by a specific act: the adopter raised his foot from the
property and placed the adoptee’s foot upon it.34 This is to be understood
as “a legal instrument of property transfer.”35
This symbolic act seems to be the background of several Old Testament
texts concerning the transfer of property, especially land. Even a shoe could

30 I. Starr, Queries to the Sungod: Divination and Politics in Sargonid Assyria (SAA ;

Helsinki ), nos. .–, cf. nos. .; .;  (r).; ..
31 See, for example Rassam-Cylinder col. II –.
32 H. Hunger, ed., Astrological Reports to Assyrian Kings (SAA ; Helsinki ),

no. , .
33 Cf. M. Malul, Studies in Mesopotamien Legal Symbolism (AOAT ; Kevelaer ),

–.
34 The phrase šēpa(m) šulu(m) u šēpa(m) šakanu(m) occurs in real adoption formulas

as well as in sale-adoption formulas. In the second case the transfer of property is focussed
while in the first case a family relationship is touched as well; cf. E. Cassin, Symboles de
cession immobilière dans l’ancien droit mésopotamien (), in Le semblabe et le different:
Symbolismes du pouvoir dans le proche-orient ancien, (ed. E. Cassin; Paris ), –.
35 Malul, Symbolism, .
 ute neumann-gorsolke

represent this symbolic act, as one can see in Ps : = :: “. . . upon
Edom I toss my sandal” which demonstrates the will to possess the land.
“D’après Rt , c’était autrefois la coutume en Israël de valider ainsi toute
transaction: l’une des parties tirait sa sandale et la donnait à l’autre. Ce geste
accompli devant témoins signifiait l’abandon d’un droit. Ainsi le premier
go"el de Noémi renonce en faveur de Booz à son droit de préemption, Rt
,; . . .”36
And even God’s request to Abram in Gen :: “Rise up, walk through
the length and the breadth of the land, for I will give it to you” with the
keyword êìäúä alludes to the idea that it is necessary to step on the land
before it will be one’s own property.37
Let us now summarize the investigation of the Akkadian root kabāsu:
() Akkadian kabāsu with object land/area/country seems to be best un-
derstood as “to step (up-)on, to set foot on.” There is no need to suppose
that a notion of violence or warfare is included. Especially when the return
of the Assyrian king and his troops is described by the verb kabāsu, any
idea of subduing is obviously missing.
() Furthermore, some examples mentioned above bear the possibility to
understand kabāsu “to set foot on (the land)” as a symbolic act of acquiring
land.
The Akkadian root kabāsu offers an alternative concept of understanding
the root kbš that avoids the idea of subduing. In the following section it
has to be proofed whether this understanding fits Josh : as well as the
related texts in Num :, , and  Chr : that also have the same
“Worthof ” (K. Koch) as Josh :.

. ùáë Niphal + õøàä + éðôì in Numbers :,

;  Chronicles :; and Joshua :

Numbers :, , and  Chr : show the same grammatical struc-
ture as Josh :: ùáë Niphal has the logical object õøàä followed by the
preposition éðôì + Yhwh or the Israelites. And all three biblical texts con-
cern the gift of the promised land. A relationship between these texts can
be supposed. The proposed translations for instance agree with the one
mentioned for Josh :: “the land was subdued before nn.”38

36 R. de Vaux, Le nomadisme et ses survivances: Institutions familiales. Institutions

civiles (vol.  of Les institutions de L’Ancien Testament; Paris ), .

37 Cf. Josh :, ;  Kgs :.
38 Cf. P.J. Budd, Numbers (WBC ; Waco ), . See also M. Noth, Das vierte Buch
 “and the land was subdued before them . . . ”? 

Besides all differences, scholars are of the opinion that Numbers  is

not a literary unit but “a complex compilation”39 with Deuteronomistic
and priestly adaptations. The extent of these Deuteronomistic and priest-
ly parts are discussed controversially. Some scholars regard the verses –
() as priestly and perhaps also v. b; the older commentators see
priestly work also in vv. – (A. Kuenen) or – (M. Noth).40 In my
opinion the identical structure of v.  and v.  seems to be a hint for
the same origin or at least for an intended close relationship, so that both
verses may be the work of Priestly redaction(s).41
But what does the phrase éðôì äùáëð õøàä mean in the context of
Numbers ? The verses – and – repeat the situation of vv. –
, first as a speech of Moses to the two tribes Reuben and Gad, then
to Eleazar, Joshua, and to the heads of the ancestral houses: the sons of
Reuben and of Gad will get the land of Gilead, which has already been
conquered (äëä; v. ), as possession if they cross the Jordan and help the
other tribes to conquer the western part of the promised land. The phrase
äåäé éðôì õøàä äùáëð concerns the western part of the land:
 And Moses said to them, “If you will do this, if you will indeed take up
arms to get in the presence of Yhwh (äåäé éðôì) for the war,
 and every armed man of you will indeed pass over the Jordan in the
presence of Yhwh (äåäé éðôì), until he has driven out (ùøé Hiphil) his
enemies from before him (åéðôî),
 and the land can be stepped upon (äùáëð) in the presence of Yhwh (éðôì
äåäé), then, after that, you shall indeed return, and be free of obligation to
Yhwh and to Israel, and this land shall be your possession (äæçà) in the
presence of Yhwh (äåäé éðôì).” (Num :–)
At first glance these verses seem to indicate a military action of the two
tribes Reuben and Gad42 but v. b changes the perspective and the
subject of the action to make clear that it is Yhwh alone who will drive out

Mose: Numeri (ATD ; Göttingen ), : “ . . . und das Land vor Jahwe unterworfen
daliegt”; L.E. Elliot-Binns, The Book of Numbers (WC; London ), : “ . . . And the
land be subdued before the Lord.”
39 Budd, Numbers, .
40 Cf. Budd, Numbers, –.
41 As far as I see, this connection is never mentioned in the commentaries, while the

relation between äæçà in v.  and v.  and the verb åæçàðå in v.  is stressed every time;
cf. B.A. Levine, Numbers –: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary
(AB A, New York ), .
42 In Num : Levine translated äåäé éðôì “in advance of YHWH” which means that

“the Transjordanian forces did not have the God of Israel marching ahead of them or
alongside them; they were on their own! God was marching with the main settlement of
 ute neumann-gorsolke

(ùøé Hiphil) the enemies of Israel who are also his enemies. The presence
of Yhwh is the main point of view, expressed three times by the phrase
äåäé éðôì.43 He is the one who gives the land to the Israelites. Because of
his intervention the land is now without inhabitants. Here the ideal way
of receiving the land is stressed: Yhwh drives out the former inhabitants
so that the Israelites can march into an empty land, their promised land.
äùáëð describes the relation between the land and the tribes moving in.
Not the idea of warfare or conquering is significant for ùáë here, but
the notion of taking possession of the land in the presence of Yhwh and
under his guidance. Inspired by the semantic variety of the Akkadian root
kabāsu this notion can be expressed by “to step upon the land.” For the
Niphal-stem one can suggest a translation like “the land can be stepped
upon” (see the translation above).44
In a short way the content of Num :– is repeated in :,
Moses’ speech to Eleazar, Joshua, and the heads of the ancestral houses
of the tribes:
If the Gadites and Reubenites [indeed] cross the Jordan together with you,
armed for the battle in the presence of Yhwh (äåäé éðôì) with the result that
the land can be stepped upon (äùáëð) before you (íëéðôì), you shall grant
to them the land of Gilead as an acquired estate (äæçàì).
After a battle of all Israelites in the presence of Yhwh—a fighting scene
is not described in detail because that is not the main feature of these
verses—the land is imagined to be empty and without any inhabitants
so that the Israelite tribes can take possession of it. The phrase äåäé éðôì
underlines the powerful presence of Yhwh who gives the victory over the
enemies, while íëéðôì, in my opinion, has another nuance: it stresses the
more passive role of the Israelites as spectators (“in front of the eyes of ”)
and shows that they are the ones who are given the land.45
Canaan, the Promised Land” (Numbers, ). But v. b does not go well with this inter-
pretation of äåäé éðôì; here it is emphasized that it is Yhwh alone who drives out the
enemies.
43 Levine, Numbers, , pointed out that äåäé éðôì constitutes a virtual Leitmotif in

ch.  and is “subtly nuanced” (ibid.). For the different aspects of this phrase see A.S. van
der Woude, “íéðô ‘Angesicht,’ ” THAT, d ed., :– at –, and E. Jenni, Die
Präposition Lamed (vol.  of Die hebräischen Präpositionen; Stuttgart ), –.
44 There is a close relation between the Qal and the Niphal form of the verb: “The

Niphal is related according to its meaning mostly to Qal; it is (a) reflexive of Qal—
occasionally (b) in a reciprocal sense—still more frequently (c) passive. From the passive
meaning is derived the sense of ‘to allow something be done to someone’ ” (Waltke and
O’Connor, Introduction, :.d.).
45 Cf. F. Hartenstein, Das Angesicht Gottes: Studien zu einem höfischen und kultischen

Bedeutungshintergrund in den Psalmen und in Exodus – (FAT ; Tübingen ),
 “and the land was subdued before them . . . ”? 

The phrase éðôì äùáëð õøàä is also used in  Chr :, within the
text  Chr :–, a secondary addition to the report about David’s
effort to prepare the building of the temple, “der Davids Kriegsführung
theologisch interpretieren soll.”46 David gives instructions to the officials
to support his son Salomo.47 First David reminds the officials of the past
alluding to the conquest of the promised land. In the view of Chronicles
the promise of the land finally comes to an end at the time of David:48
 Is not Yhwh your God with you? And has he not given you rest on every
side? For he has given the people of the land into my hands, so that the
land can be stepped upon (äùáëð) in the presence of Yhwh (äåäé éðôì) and
before his people (åîò éðôì).
 So now devote heart and soul to searching for Yhwh your God. Set to and
build the sanctuary of Yhwh God, so that you can bring the ark of the
covenant of Yhwh and the holy vessels of God into the house built for the
name of Yhwh. ( Chr :–)

Yhwh gave the land as a place to rest for the Israelites and for building the
sanctuary. Therefore Yhwh gave the inhabitants into the hands of David,
i.e. they do not play a role any more, and “there are no wars to fight.”49
The land is free for peaceful settlement (see the rhetorical questions in
 Chr :), free to set foot on the land and take possession of it. That is
the condition for building the temple, the real aim of all the promises of
Yhwh. The land is an important part of these promises, and the idea of
subduing is strange to it.50

Now we come back to our starting point Josh : to compare this text
with Numbers  and  Chronicles . Even clearer than in these texts,
Josh : has no notions of warfare. As mentioned above, the situation
has more of a cultic scene than of a conquest:
 Then the whole congregation of the Israelites assembled at Shiloh, and set
up the tent of meeting there. The land could be stepped upon before them
(íäéðôì äùáëð õøàä).

: “Die präpositionalen Fügungen éðôì ‘vor’ und éðôî ‘von her’ implizieren einen an
der räumlichen (Seh-)Achse in der Horizontalen orientierten Zwischenraum”—in other
words: éðôì implies a being “in front of ” and at the same time a distance to see the ones
being in front.
46 Wagner, ThWAT :.
47 Cf. S.J. de Vries,  and  Chronicles (FOTL ; Grand Rapids ), .
48 Cf. Koch, dominium terrae, .
49 De Vries, Chronicles, .
50 Cf. Koch, Dominium terrae, .
 ute neumann-gorsolke

 There remained among the Israelites seven tribes whose inheritance had
not yet been apportioned. (Josh :–)

Seven tribes of the Israelites are waiting for the apportioning of their
inheritance, their only activity is to set up the tent of meeting, but there
is no hint that a conquering scene is thought of. The following verses
indicate that even the keyword ùøé has no longer a warlike sense (Josh
:). Joshua requests three men of each tribe to start going through the
land (õøàá åëìäúéå) to “survey it according to their inheritance.” êìäúä
must be concerned as a terminus technicus for taking possession of the
land (cf. Gen :)51 which is corresponding to äùáëð. That means:
the land is imagined to be free and empty before them (íäéðôì) as in
Numbers  and the Israelites have to set foot on the land to make it
their own. While the tent of meeting represents the powerful presence of
Yhwh here, íäéðôì emphasizes—comparable to Num :—the passive
role of the Israelites and underlines the fact that the promised land is a
gift of Yhwh. So the understanding “to set foot on” for Hebrew ùáë goes
well with Josh : as well as Numbers  and  Chronicles .

. Summary

The Hebrew root ùáë with (logical) object õøà does not need to be
translated as “to subdue” or “to be subdued.” As the use of the Akkadian
root kabāsu with equivalent objects showed, not a violent or military
action must be expressed by this root, but it simply means a movement
of the feet: “to step upon (land)” or “to set foot on (the land).” This
understanding fits the Hebrew word Öák “footstool” as well as to the Old
Testament texts Num :, ,  Chr :, and Josh : as it does to
Gen :aγ.52
In the Ancient Near East “to set foot on” is very often a symbolic act
that expresses the idea of taking possession of land for instance. Even this
notion corresponds to Josh :53 and the related texts, including Gen
:aγ.
It is significant that the Old Testament phrase éðôì äùáëð õøàä is found
in contexts concerning the gift of the land by Yhwh. Besides that, ùáë

51 See above p. .

52 See Neumann-Gorsolke, Herrschen, –.
53 In Josh : and : one can find a corresponding phrase that also alludes to the

symbolic act of stepping on the land as a sign of taking possession of the land.
 “and the land was subdued before them . . . ”? 

with object õøà is only found in Gen :aγ. Therefore a relationship

between Genesis  and Josh :; Numbers ; and  Chr : can be
assumed. In my opinion éðôì äùáëð õøàä is a late priestly influenced
phrase referring to Gen :: This creation background emphasizes that
the gift of the land is the gift of the creator of the world and that finally
the creation story reaches its aim when the Israelites take possession of
the promised land. So the land gets its theological foundation. And this
theological aspect is another argument that Hebrew ùáë in Josh : and
related texts does not carry the notion of subduing, for õøà is the place
of divine blessing.54

54 Cf. Koch, Dominium terrae, . See also Boling, Joshua, : “In this way the sense

of the land as a gift, sheer grace, is elevated and that of possession by right of conquest is
played down.”
 CONQUEST OF THE LAND, LOSS OF THE LAND:
WHERE DOES JOSHUA 24 BELONG?*

Mladen Popović

After the conquest of the land, Joshua gathered all the people of Israel
and addressed them. According to the book of Joshua he did so twice.
Despite some commonalities, the content and language of the speeches
in Joshua  and  differ, and each has its own distinct themes.
The two important themes in Joshua  are strict observance of the
Torah and the relationship with the nations that remain in the land. After
the complete and successful conquest of the land, noted in Josh :–,
Joshua’s exhortation introduces a dark perspective. If the Israelites do not
keep to everything written in the book of the law of Moses, if they mix
with the nations that remain and serve their gods, then () God will not
drive out the remaining nations from the land, but rather () the Israelites
will be the ones to be destroyed and driven from the good land that God
has given them.
The central theme in Joshua  is the choice to serve God in the land
given to Israel. Or to put it differently: who is to be God in the land of
Israel? God has always protected Israel from its enemies and has given
it this land. Joshua, therefore, calls upon the people to serve God and to
set aside the foreign gods that their forefathers served. But if Israel does
not wish to serve God, Joshua urges them to choose between the gods of
their ancestors and the gods of the land they now live in.
In the final form of the book of Joshua, the conquest of the promised
land is qualified and conditioned by these two texts, Joshua  and
, each text signaling a particular emphasis. These different perspec-
tives at the end of the conquest of the land have proven useful for

* As a former student, friend and colleague of Ed, it is a great pleasure for me to

contribute to this book in his honor. With enthusiasm and vast knowledge, Ed introduced
me to biblical studies and archaeology. Under his supervision I wrote my MA thesis
on the final two chapters of the book of Joshua, after which I ventured into the area
of Second Temple Judaism and the Dead Sea Scrolls. It seems, therefore, fitting that in
my contribution in honor of Ed I return to this chapter that stands at the closure of the
conquest of the land.
 mladen popović

understanding the formation and composition of larger bodies of lit-

erature in the Hebrew Bible. The double ending of the book of Joshua,
together with Josh :– and :–, as well as the double begin-
ning of the book of Judges, marked by Judg : and :,1 has presented
biblical scholars with a primary test case for hypotheses about a Hexa-
teuch, a Deuteronomistic History and an Enneateuch. Joshua  espe-
cially has proven to be a key text.
In , in his Forschungsgeschichte of the book of Joshua, Ed Noort
could still consider a Hexateuch model on the basis of Joshua  as a
thing of the past.2 But since then this text has served as the basis for a
resurgence of hypotheses about the relatively short existence of a Hex-
ateuch in postexilic Judah. While from a form-critical perspective Ger-
hard von Rad called Josh :– “einen Hexateuch in kleinster Form,”
recent scholars have taken Joshua  not as preceding the formation of
a Hexateuch, as von Rad did, but as evidence of and the conclusion to
an actual Hexateuch.3 These scholars consider Joshua  to be a post-
Deuteronomistic and postexilic composition. In addition to Hexateuch
hypotheses, the late dating now in vogue for Joshua  has led scholars to
consider the text as pivotal in the composition of an Enneateuch.4 Thus,
recent interpretations of Joshua  have extended well beyond the con-
fines of the Deuteronomistic History.
Concomitant with a reappraisal of Martin Noth’s Deuteronomistic
History hypothesis,5 the analysis of Joshua , as well as the thorny ques-
tion of its relationship with Joshua , has also attracted renewed atten-
tion. Many scholars now uphold the priority of Joshua  over and against
Joshua .6 Joshua  is understood to be firmly set within the frame-

1 Strictly speaking only Josh :– and Judg :– present a repetition.
2 E. Noort, Das Buch Josua: Forschungsgeschichte und Problemfelder (EdF ; Darm-
stadt
), : “Noch in den achtziger Jahren konnte anhand von Jos  ein Hexateuch-
modell verteidigt werden.”
3 G. von Rad, Das formgeschichtliche Problem des Hexateuchs (Stuttgart ), . Cf.

recently A. Rofé, “The Formcritical Problem of the Hexateuch—Revisited,” in Das Alte

Testament—Ein Geschichtsbuch? (ed. E. Blum et al.; Münster ), –, esp. .
4 See, e.g. Les dernières rédactions du Pentateuque, de l’Hexateuque et de l’Ennéateuque

(ed. T. Römer and K. Schmid; Louvain, ).

5 For a convenient overview, see T.C. Römer, The So-Called Deuteronomistic History:

A Sociological, Historical and Literary Introduction (London ).

6 But, for an opposite view, see recently U. Becker, “Endredaktionelle Kontextver-

netzungen des Josua-Buches,” in Die deuteronomischen Geschichtswerke: Redaktions-

und religionsgeschichtliche Perspektiven zur “Deuteronomismus”-Diskussion in Tora und
 conquest of the land, loss of the land 

work of Deuteronomistic activity. But scholars disagree as to whether

the text represents a literary unity or exhibits different literary layers of
Deuteronomistic hands.7 With Joshua , matters are less clear. The text
cannot easily be pinpointed to one specific layer of literary activity or
redaction. The text is truly multi-interpretable and seems flexible enough
to fit the very different historical contexts proposed by scholars, ranging
from the transition between the Late Bronze Age and the Early Iron Age
to the postexilic period. In addition to the difficulty of anchoring the
literary and historical context of Joshua , there is disagreement as to
whether the text is a literary unity or not. The difficulties surrounding
Joshua  are well illustrated by Noth, who could not make up his mind
and changed his position at least four times.8
Despite or perhaps rather due to all this, the only real certainty seems
to be that Joshua  will continue to often be used to carry the weight of
entire hypotheses. Joshua  was once believed to contain the historical
kernel of a coalition of tribes pledging a covenant at Shechem sometime
in the twelfth century bce, but Lothar Perlitt demonstrated that there was
no basis for supposing that the text had transmitted any such historical
memory.9 The question is which historical context best fits Joshua ,
understood as a literary fiction: pre- or post-Deuteronomistic? Does it

Vorderen Propheten (ed. M. Witte et al.; Berlin ), –, esp. –; H.M. Rösel,
“Lässt sich eine nomistische Redaktion im Buch Josua feststellen?” ZAW  () –
, esp. .
7 Literary unity: in addition to most previous scholarship, see recently, e.g. J. Nen-

tel, Trägerschaft und Intentionen des deuteronomischen Geschichtswerks: Untersuchungen

zu den Reflexionsreden Jos ; ; ;  Sam  und  Kön  (Berlin ), –. Dif-
ferent layers: e.g. R.G. Kratz, Die Komposition der erzählenden Bücher des Alten Tes-
taments: Grundwissen der Bibelkritik (Göttingen ), –; idem, “Der vor- und
der nachpriesterliche Hexateuch,” in Abschied vom Jahwisten: Die Komposition des Hex-
ateuch in der jüngsten Diskussion (ed. J.C. Gertz et al.; Berlin ), –, esp. ;
E. Aurelius, Zukunft jenseits des Gerichts: Eine redaktionsgeschichtliche Studie zum Ennea-
teuch (Berlin ), –; R. Müller, Königtum und Gottesherrschaft: Untersuchungen
zur alttestamentlichen Monarchiekritiek (Tübingen ), –; Becker, “Endredak-
tionelle Kontextvernetzungen des Josua-Buches,” –; T. Römer, “Das doppelte
Ende des Josuabuches: Einige Anmerkungen zur aktuellen Diskussion um ‘deuterono-
mistisches Geschichtswerk’ und ‘Hexateuch’, ” ZAW  () –, esp. –
.
8 M. Noth, Das System der zwölf Stämme Israels (Stuttgart ); idem, Das Buch Josua

(Tübingen ); idem, Überlieferungsgeschicktliche Studien, Erster Teil: Die sammelnden

und bearbeitenden Geschichtswerke im Alten Testament (Halle ); idem, Das Buch
Josua (d ed.; Tübingen ).
9 L. Perlitt, Bundestheologie im Alten Testament (Neukirchen-Vluyn ), –.
 mladen popović

belong to a pre-Deuteronomistic conquest tradition or is it part of a

postexilic tradition that was only too familiar with the loss of the land?

In his contribution to the Festschrift for the th birthday of Adam

van der Woude, Ed Noort opposed a postexilic dating for Joshua .
Modifying Perlitt’s hypothesis, he argued in favor of a preexilic and
pre-Deuteronomic/Deuteronomistic date after the Assyrian conquest of
the northern kingdom of Israel in the late eighth century bce.10 Ed
Noort acknowledged that Joshua  had Deuteronomistic elements and
expressions, as well as elements that were non-Deuteronomistic or at
odds with Deuteronomistic perspectives. But he remained unconvinced
by scholarly distinctions between literary or redactional layers in Joshua
. Ed Noort approached the text as a literary unity.11
Joshua  is a text sui generis, a “merkwürdige Mischung,”12 that
combines exegesis and Fortschreibung of pentateuchal traditions with
other traditions that cannot be related to either pentateuchal ones or
to Joshua – and its Deuteronomistic reception. The matter of fact
statement that Yahweh gave Esau Seir to possess (Josh :b) seems
difficult to reconcile with exilic-postexilic texts that show a negative
evaluation of Edom’s role in Judah’s exile. The parallel in Deut : is
preceded by a reference in Deut : to the sons of Esau, the Edomites, as
“brothers.” This Deuteronomistic text is later than Josh :b and is “eine
programmatische Aussage als Gegenwicht zur Negativbeurteilungen der
Rolle Edoms bei der Exilierung Judas,” but “[d]avon scheint Jos ,
nichts zu wissen.”13 The idea that the citizens of Jericho fight Israel (Josh
:) differs significantly from the traditions in Joshua  and , where
Jericho does not put up a fight at all. These traditions are simply ignored:
“Es ist diese Art der Abweichungen, die einer globalen dtr Zuweisung
im Wege stehen.”14 The choice between Yahweh and the other gods (Josh
:–) has a parallel in  Kings , which opens up the possibility that

10 E. Noort, “Zu Stand und Perspektiven: Der Glaube Israels zwischen Religions-

geschichte und Theologie, der Fall Josua ,” in Perspectives in the Study of the Old Tes-
tament and Early Judaism: A Symposium in Honour of Adam S. van der Woude on the
Occasion of His th Birthday (ed. F. García Martínez and E. Noort; Leiden ), –
, esp. . See also Noort, Das Buch Josua, .
11 The tension between these different considerations is noted, but not resolved; Noort,

“Zu Stand und Perspektiven,” .

12 Noort, “Zu Stand und Perspektiven,” .
13 Noort, “Zu Stand und Perspektiven,” .
14 Noort, “Zu Stand und Perspektiven,” .
 conquest of the land, loss of the land 

this motif in Joshua  has preexilic roots. The statement that the people
are not capable of serving Yahweh may point in the same direction.
This statement is problematic from a Deuteronomistic perspective, which
presupposes that not only is it the best option to serve and obey Yahweh,
but that it is also possible to do so.15 The motif of the stone that hears (Josh
:–) is at odds with a Deuteronomistic perspective where stones are
used to write the law on, but do not have any independent function. The
nearest parallel is Gen :–, which suggests pre-Deuteronomistic
reminiscences.16
In light of these elements, seen as “nicht-ableitbaren, nicht einfach als
Midrash oder weiter reflektierende Bearbeitungen zu erklärenden Ele-
mente,” Ed Noort suggested dating Joshua  earlier than an exclusively
Deuteronomic-Deuteronomistic context. Since “who is God in Israel?”17
is the text’s main theme, Joshua  should, according to Ed Noort,
be understood as a “Reflexion auf den königszeitlichen Synkretismus,
auf den Fall des Nordreiches und die damit gegebene Bedrohung des
Sudreiches.”18
Ed Noort argued that Joshua , together with Josh :–, presents
the climax of the complete fulfillment of the conquest of the land in the
book of Joshua. The exile is not present in Joshua , whereas in Joshua 
it is very much so.19 In accordance with the Göttinger model for detecting
redactional layers in the Deuteronomistic History, initiated by Rudolf
Smend,20 Ed Noort considered Joshua  to be a later Deuteronomistic
composition that picked up on Josh :–, but changed its message
from that of a total, successful conquest of the land into one of “up until

15 Noort, “Zu Stand und Perspektiven,” –.

16 Noort, “Zu Stand und Perspektiven,” .
17 Cf. also Perlitt, Bundestheologie, .
18 Noort, “Zu Stand und Perspektiven,” , , .
19 Noort, “Zu Stand und Perspektiven,” , .
20 R. Smend, “Das Gesetz und die Völker: Ein Beitrag zur deuteronomistischen Redak-

tionsgeschichte,” in Probleme biblischer Theologie: Gerhard von Rad zum . Geburtstag
(ed. H.W. Wolff; München ), –; idem, Die Entstehung des Alten Testaments
(Stuttgart ), –. Other scholars had already pointed out this secondary charac-
ter of Joshua , but it was Smend who explained it in a redactional model by attributing
Joshua  to a nomistic redactor. See W. Richter, Die Bearbeitungen des “Retterbuches”
in der deuteronomischen Epoche (Bonn ), –; C.H.J. de Geus, “Richteren :–
:,” Vox Theologica  () –; G. Schmitt, Du sollst keinen Frieden schließen mit
den Bewohnern des Landes: Die Weisungen gegen die Kanaanäer in Israels Geschichte und
Geschichtsschreibung (Stuttgart ), –, –.
 mladen popović

now.” The promise of the land has been fulfilled so far, but whether it will
be completely fulfilled depends on Israel’s obedience to and observance
of the Torah.21

But do the non-Deuteronomistic elements in Joshua  necessarily point

to a pre-Deuteronomistic context for the text’s composition? For exam-
ple, the stone that serves as a witness in Josh :– does not appear
as an isolated element, but is actually part of a scene where it is set up
under the oak (äìà) in the sanctuary of Yahweh (äåäé ùã÷î). It must
be understood in conjunction with these other elements. In addition to
Gen :–, Josh :– should be seen in relation to Gen :,
where Jacob is said to have hidden the foreign gods under the oak near
Shechem.22 Whether Gen : is part of a post-Deuteronomistic tradi-
tion that aims at establishing a compositional framework for a Hexa-
teuch,23 or, like Gen :–, should be ascribed to the Elohist,24 Josh
:– can still be understood as following these texts from the Jacob
tradition. There is, therefore, no need to suppose pre-Deuteronomistic
reminiscences for the stone that hears. Furthermore, the term “sanctu-
ary of Yahweh” only appears in texts from the exilic or post-exilic period
(Num :; Ezek :;  Chr :).25 The entire setting of witnessing
stone, oak, and sanctuary of Yahweh should be understood as a post-
Deuteronomistic exegesis of some elements from the Jacob and Moses
traditions. In tune with the Jacob tradition, Joshua set up a stone to mark
a covenant. The place where he set up the stone under the oak occupies
the same location as the one where Jacob hid the foreign gods under
the oak near Shechem. The motif of doing away with the foreign gods
strengthens this connection. Joshua mirrors Moses in several respects
also: “parce que Moïse a conclu une alliance fondamentale, l’auteur du
récit a attribué à Josué la conclusion d’une alliance; parce que Moïse a
promulgué des lois, il a attribué à Josué la promulgation des lois; parce
que Moïse a écrit dans un livre, il a attribué à Josué l’écriture dans un

21 E. Noort, Een plek om te zijn: Over de theologie van het land aan de hand van

Jozua :– (Kampen ), ; idem, Das Buch Josua, ; idem, “Zu Stand und
Perspektiven,” , .
22 E. Blum, Die Komposition der Vätergeschichte (Neukirchen-Vluyn ), –;

M. Anbar, Josué et l’alliance de Sichem (Josué :–) (Frankfurt a.M. ), –, –
.
23 Blum, Die Komposition der Vätergeschichte, , –, –.
24 Anbar, Josué et l’alliance de Sichem, –.
25 Anbar, Josué et l’alliance de Sichem, –.
 conquest of the land, loss of the land 

livre et comme Moïse a dressé des stèles à l’occasion de la conclusion de

l’alliance, il a attribué à Josué l’érection d’une pierre, sous l’influence cette
fois du récit de Jacob.”26
The choice that the people are called upon to make between Yahweh
and the gods that their forefathers served (Josh :–) is unique and,
therefore, not easy to situate. From the perspective of the Deuteronomis-
tic History, it is Yahweh who is the one who has chosen Israel to be his
people (Deut :; :–; :; :;  Kgs :), instead of the other way
around. In referring to the gods that the forefathers served, Joshua 
uses both the Deuteronomistic expression íéøçà íéäìà (Josh :, )27
as well as the later phrase øëð éäìà (Josh :, ).28 The expression to
“turn aside the foreign gods” (øåñ Hiphil + øëð éäìà) is paralleled in late
texts such as Gen :, Judg :,  Sam :, and  Chr :. Ed Noort
argued: “Die Aussage über den Dienst an anderen Göttern in Verbindung
mit dem Entscheidungsruf von V. kennt den Fall des Südstaates noch
nicht. Mit dem Aufruf sind wir in vorexilischen Gefilden.”29 Suggesting
 Kings  as a parallel30 and “[w]ie andersartig Kön  auch verwurzelt
sein mag,” it “eröffnet auf jeden Fall die Möglichkeit, daß die in Jos  ver-
wendeten Motive vorexilisch anzusiedeln sind.”31 Indeed, conceptually
the choice between Yahweh and other gods does have preexilic roots,32
but the language in which this is couched in Joshua  strongly suggests
that it was formulated during the exilic or postexilic period.33 In addi-
tion, Jer : is important here. It speaks of serving foreign gods in the
land of Israel as being the reason for Yahweh’s anger and Judah’s exile.

26 Cf. Anbar, Josué et l’alliance de Sichem, .

27 Cf. Anbar, Josué et l’alliance de Sichem, .
28 Gen :; Deut :; :;  Chr :; Jer :; Mal :; Ps :; Dan :.

Anbar, Josué et l’alliance de Sichem, –.

29 Noort, “Zu Stand und Perspektiven,” .
30 Cf. also Anbar, Josué et l’alliance de Sichem, , who situates the possibility of choice

between Yahweh and the foreign gods in the postexilic period, however; and Becker,
“Endredaktionelle Kontextvernetzungen des Josua-Buches,” –, who opts for a late
Deuteronomistic setting ().
31 Noort, “Zu Stand und Perspektiven,” .
32 See also Judg :: “When new gods were chosen, then war was in the gates.”
33 Other scholars who, for different reasons, situate this concept in the exilic-postexilic

period: Anbar, Josué et l’alliance de Sichem, –; Nentel, Trägerschaft und Inten-
tionen des deuteronomischen Geschichtswerks, –, ; T.C. Römer and M.C. Bret-
tler, “Deuteronomy  and the Case for a Persian Hexateuch,” JBL  () –,
esp. –; Aurelius, Zukunft jenseits des Gerichts, –; Müller, Königtum und
Gottesherrschaft, –; Becker, “Endredaktionelle Kontextvernetzungen des Josua-
Buches,” .
 mladen popović

Jeremiah : refers to one of the choices that we meet also in Joshua
 and he, Jeremiah, clearly connects this with the notion of the exile.
In Joshua  as well, this is exactly the threatening consequence, should
the people choose the option of serving foreign gods in the land of Israel.
Joshua : is familiar with Judah’s exile.34 According to Noth it may
have been “ex eventu im Exil zugesetzt auf Grund der Einsicht, daß ein
Abfall nach erfolgter Entscheidung für Jahwe eine grundsätzlich andere
Verantwortung bedeutet als das Verharren im Heidentum.”35 Therefore,
the choice that the people are called upon to make between Yahweh and
the gods that their forefathers served (Josh : ff.) should not be dated
to the pre-Deuteronomistic period, but to the exilic-postexilic period.
The fact that Josh : does not make use of the Jericho traditions
from Joshua  and  does not mean it must precede Deuteronomistic
activity. Joshua : does not contain an independent Jericho tradi-
tion. The manner in which the conquest of the land west of the Jor-
dan is portrayed in Josh :– follows the main motif of the entire
historical summary: Israel is not responsible for any of its accomplish-
ments; Yahweh alone has been the driving force behind Israel’s his-
tory. Joshua : is comparable to the manner in which the Balak
story is treated in Josh :. Joshua : differs from other texts about
Balak where he does not appear as fighting Israel (Numbers –; Judg
:; Mic :). This might well be inferred from Num :, ,36 but
is hardly necessary. Judges : demonstrates quite the opposite. The
reason that Josh : presents Balak as fighting against Israel is due to
the intention and structure of Joshua : Israel is under attack (by the
Egyptians, the Amorites), but Yahweh delivers Israel’s enemies into its
hands. Thus, the citizens of Jericho, together with seven other peoples,
fight Israel in order that Yahweh can deliver them into the hands of
Israel. Just as Yahweh saved Israel from the Egyptians and in Transjor-
dan from the Amorites, and from Balak because they went to war with
Israel, so Yahweh again delivered the peoples west of the Jordan into
Israel’s hands. The Jericho tradition from Joshua  does not fit the inten-
tion found in Joshua , because in Joshua  Israel also contributes to
the defeat of Jericho. Regarding the conquest of the land, the empha-
sis in Josh :– is on the fact that Israel made no contribution to
its conquest (:), nor to its cultivation (:): “It was not by your

34 Cf. Anbar, Josué et l’alliance de Sichem, .

35 Noth, Das Buch Josua, .
36 Anbar, Josué et l’alliance de Sichem, ; Noort, “Zu Stand und Perspektiven,” .
 conquest of the land, loss of the land 

sword or by your bow. And I gave you a land on which you had not
labored and cities that you had not built, and you live in them; vineyards
and olive yards that you did not plant, you eat (from).”37 Thus, the fact
that Josh : does not pick up on Joshua  does not point to a pre-
Deuteronomistic context.38
Joshua : may precede Deut :,39 but this does not necessarily
mean it is also pre-Deuteronomistic.40 The phrase åúåà úùøì in Josh
: is Deuteronomistic.41 The language used is not in favor of a pre-
Deuteronomistic date. However, since the matter of fact statement about
Esau receiving Seir ignores the negative view of Edom and apparently
does not oppose such a negative stance in the way that Deut : or
Deut :, for that matter, do by referring to the Edomites as brothers,
Ed Noort has suggested that the Esau-Landgabe points to the preexilic
period.42 Indeed, the references to Esau/Edom in Deut :, :, and Josh
: contrast sharply with all other biblical texts about Edom. The view
of Edom as Judah’s archetypal foe expands and gathers strength precisely
in the exilic-postexilic period and achieves eschatological proportions
in prophetic texts that date from after the destruction. These texts may
reflect Edomite participation in the Babylonian conquest of Judah in
 bce and the subsequent occupation of some of the territory formerly
belonging to Judah.43 But this does not necessarily mean that Josh :
cannot be situated in the exilic-postexilic period.44 On the contrary,

37 Josh : parallels Deut :–. Some scholars have suggested that Josh :

precedes Deut :– (e.g. S.D. Sperling, “Joshua  Re-examined,” HUCA  []
–, esp. ; Noort, “Zu Stand und Perspektiven,” ), others that it follows upon
the passage in Deuteronomy (Noth, Das Buch Josua, ; T. Römer, Israels Väter: Unter-
suchungen zur Väterthematik im Deuteronomium und in der deuteronomistischen Tradi-
tion [Freiburg, Schweiz, ], ; Anbar, Josué et l’alliance de Sichem, , –), or
that it is contemporary with it (Nentel, Trägerschaft und Intentionen des deuteronomischen
Geschichtswerks, –). Josh : contrasts with Isa : and :–.
38 Cf. also Nentel, Trägerschaft und Intentionen des deuteronomischen Geschichtswerks,

 n. .
39 Noort, “Zu Stand und Perspektiven,” .
40 Cf. also Nentel, Trägerschaft und Intentionen des deuteronomischen Geschichtswerks,

 n. .
41 Noth, Das Buch Josua, ; Anbar, Josué et l’alliance de Sichem, .
42 Noort, “Zu Stand und Perspektiven,” .
43 B. Glazier-McDonald, “Edom in the Prophetical Corpus,” in You Shall Not Abhor an

Edomite for He is Your Brother: Edom and Seir in History and Tradition (ed. D.V. Edelman;
Atlanta, Ga., ), –; E. Assis, “Why Edom? On the Hostility towards Jacob’s
Brother in Prophetic Sources,” VT  () –; B.L. Crowell, “Nabonidus, as-Sila#,
and the Beginning of the End of Edom,” BASOR  () –, esp. –.
44 Anbar, Josué et l’alliance de Sichem, –.
 mladen popović

the language used fits such a date. And the reference to Esau’s sons
as brothers and the Esau-Landgabe in Deut : may belong to a later
Deuteronomistic author.45 Thus, the Esau-Landgabe in Josh : does not
point to the preexilic period. John Bartlett has suggested that Deut :
and : come from an author who writes from a late, postexilic situation,
when the Edomites are no longer a threat, and so seems to deliberately
tone down the tradition of Edom’s archetypal hostility.46 The positive
or neutral references to Edom in Deut :, :, and Josh : remain
isolated amid other biblical references to Edom. The fact that Josh :
makes no reference to Esau as a brother seems to set this verse apart from
Deut : and :, but the lack of such a reference does not alone preclude
an exilic-postexilic date. Joshua : should, therefore, be dated to the
exilic-postexilic period in close proximity to Deut : and :.

A number of elements that Ed Noort deemed pre-Deuteronomistic have

been singled out, and I have argued that these ought to be dated to the
exilic or postexilic period. In light of the above, it would seem improbable
for Joshua  to retain any pre-Deuteronomistic reminiscences. More-
over, if Ed Noort approaches the text as a literary unity,47 it is not clear
how he would take into account the undisputed Deuteronomistic ele-
ments, never mind the non-Deuteronomistic elements.

45 Nentel, Trägerschaft und Intentionen des deuteronomischen Geschichtswerks, 

n. .
46 J.R. Bartlett, “Edom in the Nonprophetic Corpus,” in You Shall Not Abhor an

Edomite for He is Your Brother: Edom and Seir in History and Tradition (ed. D.V. Edelman;
Atlanta, Ga., ), –, esp. , .
47 Scholars have recently proposed various distinctions in Joshua . Nentel, Träger-

schaft und Intentionen des deuteronomischen Geschichtswerks, –, assigned the origi-
nal version, Josh :*, –*, a, –*, b*, a, bαβ, –, –, to (DtrH)
and the redactional additions, Josh :bα, *, –a*, –, aγ*, a*, b, , aβ,
b, a*, a*, bα*, –, a, –, to DtrS; Kratz, Die Komposition der erzählenden
Bücher, –, reconstructed an original final address of a Deuteronomistic redactor
in both Joshua  and  (Josh :b–; :a, –, b, , ); Aurelius, Zukunft jen-
seits des Gerichts, , followed Kratz; Müller, Königtum und Gottesherrschaft, –,
argued for a core text in Josh :a, bβ, aα1, aα1, b, , , ; Becker, “Endredak-
tionelle Kontextvernetzungen des Josua-Buches,” –, distinguished a core text in
Josh :–a, a, a*b, , b, , ; Römer, “Das doppelte Ende des Josuabuches,”
–, saw Joshua  as a literary unity, but also understood Josh :– and minor
elements in :, , , , , , , and  as later additions; C. Nihan, “The Torah
between Samaria and Judah: Shechem and Gerizim in Deuteronomy and Joshua,” in The
Pentateuch as Torah: New Models for Understanding Its Promulgation and Acceptance (ed.
G.N. Knoppers and B.M. Levinson; Winona Lake, Ind., ), –, esp. –,
followed Römer.
 conquest of the land, loss of the land 

It would seem that to take Joshua  as a literary unity would neces-

sitate a post-Deuteronomistic dating for the composition as a whole.48
The overview of Israel’s history in Josh :– has been determined by
the intention to emphasize Yahweh as the driving force behind Israel and
present Israel itself as completely dependent on Yahweh. This explains,
for example, the manner in which Balak and Jericho appear. In many
instances the historical summary is dependent on pentateuchal tradi-
tions from J, E and P, which are sometimes rendered in Deuteronomistic
language. But Josh :– differs from those Deuteronomistic histor-
ical summaries where neither the patriarchs nor the Red Sea tradition
appear. The dialogue in Josh :– shows the use of Deuteronomistic
and post-Deuteronomistic language and such late features can also be
detected in the framework of Josh :, –. These considerations lead
to a post-Deuteronomistic date for the composition of Joshua .
Furthermore, a pre-Deuteronomistic date for the composition of
Joshua  might well raise another problem. Unless one assumes that
Joshua  was already connected to the pre-Deuteronomistic conquest
stories in Josh –, the question might well come up as to how to
explain the tradition history (Überlieferungsgeschichte) of the text. Al-
though Noth did assume a pre-Deuteronomistic core in Joshua , it
remained an “überlieferungsgeschichtlich selbständiges und isoliertes
Stück.”49 A literary connection between Joshua  and the pre-Deuter-
onomistic conquest tradition in the first half of the book of Joshua could
not be ascertained.50 The suggestion that Joshua  was composed in
the pre-Deuteronomistic period, but placed in the book of Joshua in the
post-Deuteronomistic period, is unsatisfactory, creating the impression
“of Josh.  floating in limbo for years until it was reinserted in its proper
place.”51 A post-Deuteronomistic date for the composition of Joshua 
circumvents this problem of the text’s tradition history. Joshua  was
not only placed late at the end of the book of Joshua, but was also com-
posed late. Joshua  was familiar with the exile (:) and its compo-
sition dates from after the loss of the land during the Babylonian con-
quest.

48 Cf. also Römer, “Das doppelte Ende des Josuabuches,” ; Nihan, “The Torah

between Samaria and Judah,” .

49 M. Noth, Überlieferungsgeschicktliche Studien, Erster Teil: Die sammelnden und

bearbeitenden Geschichtswerke im Alten Testament (d ed.; Tübingen ),  n. .

50 Noth, Das Buch Josua, –.
51 R.D. Nelson, The Double Redaction of the Deuteronomistic History (Sheffield ),

 n. .
 mladen popović

Whether this post-Deuteronomistic date for Joshua  also implies

that the text concluded a Hexateuch or provided the hinge in an Ennea-
teuch as separate bodies of literature in Persian-period Judah remains to
be seen; this cannot be dealt with here.52

52 For recent proposals concerning the place and function of Joshua , see, e.g. Römer
and Brettler, “Deuteronomy ”; N. Na"aman, “The Law of the Altar in Deuteronomy
and the Cultic Site Near Shechem,” in Rethinking the Foundations: Historiography in the
Ancient World and in the Bible: Essays in Honour of John Van Seters (ed. S.L. McKenzie and
T. Römer; Berlin ), –; Nentel, Trägerschaft und Intentionen des deuteronomis-
chen Geschichtswerk, –; Kratz, Die Komposition der erzählenden Bücher, –;
idem, “Der vor- und der nachpriesterliche Hexateuch”; Aurelius, Zukunft jenseits des
Gerichts, –; Becker, “Endredaktionelle Kontextvernetzungen des Josua-Buches”;
Römer, “Das doppelte Ende des Josuabuches”; idem, “La construction du Pentateuque,
de l’Hexateuque et de l’Enneateuque: Investigations préliminaires sur la formation des
grands ensembles littéraires de la Bible hébraïque,” in Les dernières rédactions du Penta-
teuque, de l’Hexateuque et de l’Ennéateuque (ed. T. Römer and K. Schmid; Louvain ),
–; E. Blum, “Pentateuch—Hexateuch—Enneateuch? oder: Woran erkennt man ein
literarisches Werk in der hebräischen Bibel,” in Les dernières rédactions du Pentateuque,
de l’Hexateuque et de l’Ennéateuque (ed. T. Römer and K. Schmid; Louvain ), –
; E.A. Knauf, “Buchschlüsse in Josua,” in Les dernières rédactions du Pentateuque, de
l’Hexateuque et de l’Ennéateuque (ed. T. Römer and K. Schmid; Louvain ), –;
Nihan, “The Torah between Samaria and Judah.”
 MOSES’ PREPARATION OF THE
MARCH TO THE HOLY LAND: A DIALOGUE WITH
ROLF P. KNIERIM ON NUMBERS 1:1–10:10*

Horst Seebass

In his part of the commentary on Numbers, which he published together

with George W. Coats, Rolf P. Knierim gave a brilliant analysis of form,
setting, and genre of Num :–: under the heading “Israel’s migra-
tory campaign to the Holy land.”1 The gist of his analysis is to be found
in his thesis that Numbers – develop a “sanctuary military campaign,”
finding no proper sequel in Num :–: (as most older scholarship
thought too); for Numbers – envisions a grand picture of Israel’s mili-
tia mustered in Numbers  and organized through an enormous military
camp in Numbers , divided into four smaller campsites around the tent
of meeting. Numbers – then develop a new theme of the Pentateuch:
the election of the Levites for the service of the holy tent under the leader-
ship of the Aaronic priests. In comparison with this grand picture of the
preparation for the march to the Holy Land through a dangerous desert,
Num :–: seems to have nothing really compatible, but shows a
collection of eleven2 pericopes from which six3 develop already known

* This article is in honor of my very distinguished friend Ed Noort. I already wrote on

the Canaan of Num :– as Yahweh’s land, differing from the land of Israel because the
Eastjordanian tribes of Gad and Reuben are not excluded from Israel’s land (Num :–
), see H. Seebass, Numeri Kap. :–: (BKAT .; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), –
. In this occasion, I decided to write on a part of the Old Testament that looks forward
with utter hope to the land promised by Israel’s God as their destination: Num :–:.
A first draft of this paper was read at the SBL-meeting in Vienna on July , , but
it has now been revised on many points because of the ongoing work in commenting
Numbers (see note ).
1 G.W. Coats and R.P. Knierim, Numbers (FOTL ; Grand Rapids ), here: –

and –. In my opinion, Knierim is at the moment a necessary and very helpful
partner to discuss the biblical text of Numbers because he regularly and explicitly begins
with the analysis of the Hebrew text in its final form. I agree with him that every
diachronic analysis of the Old Testament texts has to begin with the text in its final form.
2 Counted after omission of the postcompositional elements :– and :–. They

are: :–, –, –; :–, –; :; :–, –, –; :–; :–. For
reasons see below, for the term “postcompositional” see note .
3 Num :– goes back to Leviticus –; Num :– to Leviticus ; Num : to
 horst seebass

traditions. So the conjunction of Numbers – and of :–: does not

make much sense for Knierim.4
As a matter of fact, Num :–: is in need of an approach which
would help to get it away from the fame to be a rather unbalanced part
of the book of Numbers which probably is one of the more difficult
parts of the Pentateuch to be explained in a critical and theological
discussion.5 My thesis will be: Numbers – have to be reduced to the
parts of Pg totalling all in all about   of the outstanding text.6 This
earlier form of Numbers – had a convincing continuation at least in
:–, :–, :, :–, :–, (supplemented by the late :–),
and :– (see below). Later additions then changed Numbers –* so
heavily to its present form that it became oppressing militarily through
the muster of the troops in :– and their numbers in Numbers ,
followed by an overwhelmingly voluminous introduction of the Levites
in Numbers –.7 I propose that Numbers  can legitimately be reduced
to the groundwork of a military muster by excluding the late addition
of the extremely high numbers of the military in Numbers :– and
Numbers . This helps in understanding the main thrust of Numbers –
 more clearly: Israel’s God took the initiative to prepare his people
for its great aim to receive possession of the promised land. Although
Knierim shows a convincing organizational structure of the last edition of
Numbers –, a literary critical analysis of Numbers – is able to reduce
the complex tradition to a convincingly structured groundwork too. It
can explain the development of the text up to the present form.8 This
critical analysis helps to get even a much better insight into the present

Exod :; Num :– to Exod :–; Num :– to Numbers ; Num :– to
Exod :–.
4 Coats and Knierim, Numbers, –.
5 See J. Sturdy, Numbers (CBC; Cambridge ), . In the meantime there have

been other voices, but Sturdy’s comment should not be put aside.
6 On the possibility of this reduction see Coats and Knierim, Numbers, –. In spite

of a whole school of scholars who deny Pg from Exodus  through either Leviticus  or
Leviticus , there are good reasons to find Pg in the book of Numbers. On this point I
agree for a large part with J.-L. Ska, Introduction à la lecture du Pentateuque: Clés pour
l’interprétation des cinq premiers livres de la Bible (Le livre et le rouleau ; Brussels ),
 ff. (translated as Introduction to Reading the Pentateuch, Winona Lake ,  ff.),
though he criticizes the J/E-hypothesis which I use for the analysis of Numbers –*;
–; ; see below, note .
7 This is one of the important theses of T. Pola, Die ursprüngliche Priesterschrift:

Beobachtungen zur Literarkritik von Pg (WMANT ; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), –.

8 Knierim in Coats and Knierim, Numbers, , demanded convincingly for a literary

solution which he thought to be possible.

 moses’ preparation of the march to the holy land 

form of Numbers –. Both critical reductions allow a more plausible

continuation of traditions in :–: than the present text and prepare
aptly for a better understanding of their last version. For it will have the
effect that the composition of Num :–: as a whole is much better
structured than mostly thought of.
Since all the necessary details can only be worked out in my commen-
tary,9 I argue comprehensively here.

() Knierim did not consider Numbers – as describing not the real
camp of the #edah.10 Israel’s camp was never without women and chil-
dren, but Numbers – musters and organizes only the military men
above twenty years and the male Levites above one month. Knierim does
observe this in analyzing Numbers , but he does not draw conclusions
from this. However, :– is the direct continuation of Numbers –
on ritual cleansing of the camp actually mentioning (men and) women,
which has a parallel in :– (see : for women), both including :–
, the important case of women in the problematic situation of being
accused of adultery without witnesses; that is why the scene is at the
sanctuary.11 This opens the possibility that :–: incorporates more
elements that might continue the lead of Numbers –. Its last form with
its overly pressing military and its collection of many Levitical traditions,
but with some repetitions, may be artificially done, and should, therefore,
be analyzed critically.

() I do not agree with Knierim and others not to exclude :– and
:– as clearly postcompositional in the context of :–:.12 They
indicate their postcompositional character themselves. For :–, the

9 H. Seebass, Numeri Kap. :–: (BKAT .; Neukirchen-Vluyn; forthcoming)

after the two volumes. beforehand: idem, Numeri Kap. :–: (BKAT .; Neukir-
chen-Vluyn ); idem, Numeri Kap. :–: (BKAT .; Neukirchen-Vluyn ).
10 Coats and Knierim, Numbers, –.
11 Coats and Knierim, Numbers, .
12 In his exegesis he leaves no doubt that both are secondary. See Coats and Knierim,

Numbers, –, and –. I propose to coin a new term for a definition that
sometimes is called postcanonical, sometimes “nachendredaktionell,” or similarly. But
the term “nachendredaktionell” is illogical, because there can only be one final redaction.
The term “postcanonical” goes back to the much later concept of an Old Testament
canon (or Pentateuch canon) which the evidence of the Qumran texts show to be at least
somewhat later than the first century ce The last version of Numbers I call the “Numbers
composition,” and for this reason I propose to use the term “postcompositional.” The
reasons for excluding :– and :– from the Numbers composition are simplified
here. Full discussion will be in the forthcoming volume of my commentary, see note .
 horst seebass

case of a second Passah date, goes back by its date behind the date of
:, offering a competing speech formula in :, the volume of which is
like that of :.13 The repetition of the list of very grand donations by
the twelve leaders of the secular tribes (:, , ) reveals a date earlier
than Num :. Excluding these pericopes as postcompositional does not
mean that they are not worth to be considered. Numbers :– presents
a convincing theological decision on the Passah and is impressive even
as a postcompositional law. Numbers :– present a lengthy eulogy of
willingness for donations of the twelve tribes beginning a month earlier
than :.

() It has already been observed by others that the numbers of the
military in :– are out of place in a divine command to build a camp
for the #edah.14 But it is clearly God’s purpose as the leader of Israel’s
military (so Numbers ) to organize the military camp by dividing it
into four parts around the holy tent in its middle and to initiate the
commanders of the twelve tribes by a further command.15 Though the
numbers of the military in Numbers , together with vv. –, are
all later additions (vv. , , , a, , , , a, , , , a, ,
, , a) leaving only half of the text as the groundwork, its overall
structure remains totally untouched: the organization opposite to the tent
of meeting into four main camps of three tribes each, the command for
God’s commanders, and the marching order for a time coming soon. It
certainly makes better sense than the last edition. All scholarly proposals
to draw a plan of the great military camp in Numbers  do not organize
it on the basis of the far too high numbers, but on a very small scale. For
the military of , would mean . to  million people comprising
women and children and containing the necessary logistics needing

13 In the Festschrift for Hans Joachim Boecker (ed. T. Wagner, Kontexte: Biografische
und forschungsgeschichtliche Schnittpunkte der alttestamentlichen Wissenschaft. Festschrift
für Hans Jochen Boecker zum . Geburtstag, Neukirchen-Vluyn ), –, I gave a
short interpretation of Numbers :–.
14 See already B. Baentsch, Numeri (HAT .; Göttingen ), . D. Kellermann,

Die Priesterschrift von Numeri , bis , (BZAW ; Berlin ), , met the point:
“Das statistische Material paßt schlecht in die als Jahwerede stilisierte ursprüngliche
Form der Lagerordnung . . .” Num :– is one great command of Israel’s God ordering
not only the four camps of the Israelite tribes, but also the twelve commanders of the
tribes. In God’s command there is no place for repeating the count of the military as in
:–, as there is no place for repeating :,  in :–.
15 Pace Kellermann, Priesterschrift, , on this point.
 moses’ preparation of the march to the holy land 

animals and propably carts.16 Against this, the idea of Pg was that of a
small tribal military camp led by the Deity through the holy tent with a
marching order for the tribes, but without totaling numbers.17

() Knierim made an important observation on the muster of the mili-

tary in :–.18 He registered that :– contain two different kinds of
a military gathering. Vv. a and a order a head count19 with the conse-
quence that all the counted men had to be present personally. But v. b
orders a different count, based on the names of the men. These names
were available in genealogical lists of all men as described in v.  (see
below). The personal presence of every man counted was not necessary.
Only, the second muster can be executed on one day as vv. –a say. It is
obvious that vv. – aim at this second kind of muster (see åãìéúéå “reg-
istered in genealogical lists” in v.  and úåãìåú “descendants” in vv. –
). Knierim called it a military protocol, which was in use in the admin-
istrations of all kingdoms in the Ancient Near East, here understanding
Yahweh as the chief commander.20 Kellermann already argued that this
protocol cannot be part of Pg. Instead he postulated a reconstruction con-
taining only the words “sons of tribe Reuben, Simeon . . . ” and the pure
numbers of vv. –.21 Knierim, however, convincingly objected (a) that
this wording has any textual support and (b) and worked out that vv. –
 are, instead, a late haggadah to Exod :– and :– where
the number , was already developed as that of the men who had to
pay a half-shekel when collected secularly.22 (In Numbers  no payment
to the sanctuary is necessary as in Exod :– and :– because
the Deity was ordering the muster.) So the old tradition of Numbers 
consisted only of a small frame (excluding :– too):23 vv. –a, a,

16 They would probably need between  to  square kilometer, as explained on :–

in my new commentary on :–: (forthcoming), see note .

17 The necessary reasoning will be found in my commentary, see note . In Num :

only the words “the camp of the Levites” are secondary. The far too high numbers in
chapters – make sense in the very late Numbers composition as the reminiscence of a
golden age as in the grand vision of Daniel .
18 Coats and Knierim, Numbers, .
19 ùàø in v. a should not be translated by “sum” (which is a possible translation

lexicographically) since b uses the explaining word úìâìâ “crane.”

20 Coats and Knierim, Numbers, , –.
21 Kellermann, Die Priesterschrift, –.
22 Coats and Knierim, Numbers, –. See, too, Seebass, Numeri Kap. ,–,, –

 (see note ).

23 As most authors do. But I shall propose that :– is not as late as the far too high

numbers of the military; see my forthcoming commentary on :–: (see note ).
 horst seebass

–, b, , and .24 The headcount begins (vv. –a, a), the list of
the princes follows (vv. –), Moses is mustering alone (v. b), leav-
ing the Levites non-mustered as non-military (v. ), and at last there is
the happy statement that the Israelites did all what Yahweh had ordered
(v. ), in sharp contrast to Numbers –; ; . So the camp of Num-
bers  was the real aim of Pg in Numbers – with about   of the later
text, which is certainly able to explain the development leading to the last
edition.

() Knierim proposes an organization of the last edition of Numbers –

, based on the election, the camp, and the work of the Levites as an
important new element in P.25 Literary critical analysis is not difficult
if one follows the lead of Knierim.26 For the purpose of this exposé
it is enough to sum up in only two sentences how Knierim organized
chapters –. There are two main parts: firstly, the very short :– on
the Aaronide priests, and, secondly, the extremely long :–: on the
Levites. This second part is structured as follows: (a) :– as Yahweh’s
program speech; and (b) two accompanying parts following: () the
description of the Levitical clans in :–, (–) exemplifying the
divine election of the Levites in :–, together with their different
responsibilities for the tent of meeting, and () :– explains :–, by
using a chiasm, through the actual Levitical duties under the leadership
of the priests as the hard work (äãåáò) for the tent, taking only the men
from thirty to fifty years of age. Since nearly all scholars agree that :–
 on the Aaronide priests is a late addition to Numbers –,27 I analyse
only :–:. Numbers :– is programmatic, indeed, for the whole
of :–:. Antonius Gunneweg demonstrated already in  that :–
 is the Pg form of an old “Levitenregel,” dominating the whole of :–
:.28 This form unites two points: a) the Levites had to serve the Aaronic

24 V.  was necessary for Pg because the tribe of Levi belonged to Israel but should

not be mustered militarily, and v.  is important because at the beginning of the march,
Israel accepted God’s leadership willingly. Vv. b, –a, together with vv. –, are
very late, vv.  and – are probably pure scribal additions.
25 Coats and Knierim, Numbers, –.
26 Coats and Knierim, Numbers, .
27 Derived from Exod :– on the one hand and from Lev :– on the other.
28 A.H.J. Gunneweg, Priester und Leviten (FRLANT ; Göttingen ),  ff. A

full discussion of this thesis which had already been developed by G.B. Gray, A Critical
and Exegetical Commentary on Numbers (ICC; Edinburgh ), –, is found in my
forthcoming commentary (see note ).
 moses’ preparation of the march to the holy land 

priests in all matters of the sanctuary except those of a purely priestly

competence; b) the priests had no competence to elect the Levites but
had to accept the election of the Levites by and for the Deity (so :–
Ps too). Through this ruling Pg changed the Torah of Deut :– where
all Levites would be priests as elected by Yahweh. Instead, Numbers’
new rule interpreted an old ritual law on the dedication of all firstborn
male children in a new way. At the one hand, the sacrifice of the sheep
is a thanksgiving for the happy breaking of the motherly womb (Exod
:b, ; :; cf. :b), mentioned in Num : as well; at the
other hand, the male firstborn is really to be dedicated to the service of
Yahweh. Michael Fishbane pointed to the fact that Exod :– says just
this without any other modification.29 This sort of dedication had never
before been actualized. Since Pg does not stand in the Zadokite tradition,
but in that of Aaron, it was able to propose an independent priestly
ruling.30 It said that Yahweh ordered a ransom in dedicating a Levitical
male child of one month for every male secular Israelite firstborn by the
#edah, in this way preserving the election of the Levites for God’s service
at the sanctuary (see once more :– Ps). This solution seems to be an
example of what Bernard M. Levinson demonstrated on a much broader
basis;31 for the election of the Levites as pronounced in Deut :– is
strongly emphasized, but modified technically because the Levites should
no longer be priests though serving at the sanctuary.

() If one regards :– as the programmatic ruling in Pg, it is easy to

identify the two corresponding parts of the older tradition in Numbers –
. There is a longstanding scholarly conviction that one of the older parts
of it is found in :b–. It deals with the genealogical order of the
Levites with the following aspects: sequence of a) the clans Gershon–
Kohath–Merari; b) their headcount; c) the names of their princes; and
d) their different special duties (excluding the grammatically not inte-
grated notes with the verb äðç “to camp” in the impf.: b, , b plus
a). The , male firstborn Israelites of : lead to a much lower

29 M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon, ),

–.
30 See J. Schaper, “Aaron,” RGG, th ed., :–, for the thesis of a possible origin at the

sanctuary of Bethel.
31 B.M. Levinson, L’herméneutique de l’innovation: Canon et exégèse dans l’Israël bibli-

que (Le livre et le rouleau ; Brussels ).

 horst seebass

number of the military men than :–.32 The other older part, con-
vincingly determined by Eryl W. Davies33 in evaluating Kellermann,34 is
to be found in :– which addresses the Kohathites, Gershonites, and
Merarites on the actual hard work (äãåáò) of all male Levites from thirty
to fifty years (:–, –, –), with the tribes; now, not genealogi-
cally ordered any more, but in the order of the sanctity of their work at
the holy tent. All the rest of Numbers – was easily filled up with addi-
tional traditions (a) such as :–, the ransom of the male Levites for
the firstborn male Israelites and the payment for  more male Israelite
firstborn, (b) such as :–a which is a parallel to Exod :– Ps on
Levitical tribes (Pg had mentioned the clans in accordance with :),
and c) such as :–, –, –, detailing parts of :b– on the
basis of later additions in Exodus –, – (with :– Pss, a spe-
cial admonition regarding the Kohathites). So all in all, Numbers –* Pg
is the continuation of Leviticus –* Pg.35

() So the old traditions of Numbers – show a not oppressing military
organized as a camp around God’s commanding tent of meeting and
that of Numbers – as a much smaller, but clear cut and sufficient
basis for the Levites. The profile of these old traditions makes it possible,
indeed, to continue with some of the traditions contained in :–:.
The criterion for the continuation of texts in :–: should be the
compatibility with the idea of a preparation for the march to the Holy
Land. Then it cannot be doubted that :–, the divine actual command
for the exclusion of the unclean men and women from Yahweh’s camp,
(not as a law, but ordered and done at once) is a plausible and, because of
the mention of women, a necessary continuation of the reconstructed
Numbers –* and even for the non-reconstructed. The same is true
for :–. Moses transmitted the Aaronic blessing, because the camp
with Yahweh in its centre should certainly not be without the Deity’s

32 In my forthcoming commentary on Num :–:, I shall try to show that these

, male firstborn Israelite children lead to only  / th of the numbers in Numbers –
. This is an argument for the older Pg.
33 E.W. Davies, Numbers (NCBC; London ), –.
34 Kellermann, Priesterschrift, –.
35 I am fully aware of a broad spectrum of theses regarding the end of Pg, as for

instance in Exodus , in Exodus , in Leviticus  (recently C. Nihan and T. Römer, in
Introduction à l’Ancien Testament [ed. T. Römer et al.; Le Monde de la Bible ; Geneva
], –. Against this see especially C. Frevel, Mit Blick auf das Land die Schöpfung
erinnern: Zum Ende der Priestergrundschrift [HBS ; Freiburg im Breisgau ]).
 moses’ preparation of the march to the holy land 

blessing.36 After the exclusion of :– (see above no. ) it is important

to regard : as a conclusion of :–37 since : mentions Moses as
the unique advisor of Yahweh (øáã Hitpael), who is leading the military
camp from within the holy tent: the fulfillment of Exod :. After that,
:– goes back to Exod :– where the construction of a lamp stand
was ordered, :– now adding a special service of Aaron for the light
in the holy tent as the center of the march. This is certainly a possible
sequence in preparing the march, though of a minor basis. Numbers :–
 is clearly in line with the program of :– since it narrates the
tenuphah, the elevation offering of the Levites through the hands of
Moses and Aaron as an act of transmission by the #edah. Numbers :–
 is a later addition because it changes the beginning of the Levitical
service from thirty to twenty-five years, and allows for a softer service
after the age of fifty in comparison with Numbers . As a later addition
it is at least possible as continuing the Pg parts of Numbers –*. We
have excluded :– (see above no. ). The following part, :–, has
its parallel in Exod :–, where it forms an addition, although with
different words. So the same tradition seems to appear in two versions.
Interestingly :– is not especially interested in the departure of the
Israelite camp but in the exact obedience of the #edah on the following
march according to the signs of God’s cloud. If the cloud stayed above
the tabernacle, the camp stayed. If the cloud lifted, the camp lifted too—
:– looking into the far future of the soon following march. This is
a meaningful continuation of Numbers –*, though certainly not Pg.
At last, :–, the pericope of the silver trumpets, is rather complex.
Taking the main point, it seems that the trumpets were to be heard only
for an inner circle of the camp, not for . or  million persons. On
the whole, :– looks more like a late addition, maybe especially to
:–.

() The same question of compatibility with the beginning of the march
to the Holy Land is to be asked for :–:. Numbers :– is repeating
Lev :–, as is well known. The only new element in it is v. . It states
that if the guilty person could not find the person he had done evil nor

36 See H. Seebass, “YHWH’s Name in the Aaronic Blessing (Num :–),” in The

Revelation of the Name YHWH to Moses: Perspectives from Judaism, the Pagan Graeco-
Roman World, and Early Christianity (ed. G.H. van Kooten; Themes in Biblical Narratives
; Leiden ), –.
37 So already Seebass, “Name,” –.
 horst seebass

his go"el, he had to pay his ransom plus   to the sanctuary represented
by the officiating priest. Vv. – add further prescriptions on how the
priests had to handle all sanctified gifts in the sanctuary. The main part of
:– was already ruled through Lev :–; so on the whole, it is not
specially continuing the idea of the march in Numbers – Pg. The same
is true for :–, the pericope on the vow of man or woman to abstain
from wine, not to touch a dead person and not to cut the hair. For in the
context of a march through the desert with possible acts of war it does not
make sense for a man above twenty to vow for abstinence of contacts with
dead persons, because this would mean being abstinent of the military.
Numbers :–, dealing with the case of a husband being jealous of his
wife who might have gone astray, does not need to be explained here in
detail. The main question in our discussion is: will this priestly ritual be
compatible with the situation of the coming march to the Holy Land? This
seems improbable (though the tradition is sanctuary-centred), because it
is summing up different cultural strata as in use of the Holy Land.38 So
:– seems to be one of the late additions in :–: too.

() The result is: (a) :–; :–; :; :–, –, (–); :–
, all in all six (seven) pericopes, are continuing the old Pg-tradition
in Numbers –. (b) :–, :–; :–, and :–, these four,
seem to be added as late as the last version of Numbers – which I
call Numbers composition. (c) :– and :– are postcompositional
elements in the book of Numbers, though worth to be appreciated.

Conclusion

To sum up, the reconstruction of Pg in Num :–: has the following

results: :–a, a, –, b, ,  (Israel counts its military according
to God’s order); :–, , , b–, , , b, *, , , , b, ,
, , b,  (Israel’s camp); :–aα*, b–, –aα, bβ, –
, –, –a, –, b–; :–, –, –, –a, –a,
–a, – (the initiation of the Levites for the tent of meeting).
In my opinion it is possible that an old layer of :– (without the
reworking to give Aaron a role in the ritual) was a part of Pg.

38 Reasons for this argument will be given in my commentary; as is well known, the

interpretation of :– is very differently and in parts brilliantly discussed.

 moses’ preparation of the march to the holy land 

The reconstruction of a suitable continuation (Ps, probably not Pg) of

the reconstructed Pg-layer is to be found in :–; :–; :; :–,
– (last version); :–.
This means that the problem often found in the seemingly problematic
continuation of :–: is the result of the addition of only three peri-
copes in the neighborhood of Numbers –: :–, :–, and :–
(while :– seems only to be a later adjustment to the beginning and
end of the Levitical work in Numbers , and :– a late addition lead-
ing to :–). Why are those three pericopes placed just where they
are now? The only reasonable answer seems to be that :–: should
make a balance of narratives on priestly competence to the bulk of Levit-
ical traditions in Numbers – as some already proposed.39
On the whole, it should be possible to get Num :–: out of its
seeming position as a mainly boring part of Numbers. As the great bulk of
Numbers – shows, it opens up as a grand vision of God’s people before
taking its way to the land of great promises, which it would not reach in a
simple and direct way, but had to go through the death of one generation.
Because Numbers – introduce the Levites as an important and quite
numerous element of a special service besides that of the priests, the
Numbers composition felt it necessary to balance the volume of the
Levitical traditions by God’s special orders on priestly competence in
:–:. They add up to especially late elements of the ongoing book
of Numbers which added the motif of (high) priestly leadership for the
whole community of Israel,40 all going back to the late :–. For both
the priests and the Levites were necessary for the service of the tent of
meeting as the center of life for all of Israel. Excluding :– and :–
as postcompositional additions, Numbers –* were, then, followed by
traditions preparing the great march to Yahweh’s land (:) markedly

39 P.J. Budd, Numbers (WBC ; Waco ), xvii; J. Milgrom, Numbers (The JPS Torah

Commentary; Philadelphia ), xiv. Note that two of these pericopes are important
theologically. a) For the first time in priestly legislation the confession of a guilty person
leads to the forgiving of a main ìòî in :– allowing for a simple restitution of the
original debt plus   plus a guilt offering. b) In :– the important organizing
principle in the difficult ritual is that the Deity alone should be the judge (vv. –).
Is it fortuitous that two of the later added pericopes, :– and :–, are expressly
mentioning women who were not thought of in Numbers – (though part of the Levites
in their camp :–*)?
40 Cf. the last version of the great conflict between Korah the Levite and the leading

priest Aaron in Numbers –, the role of Aaron in Numbers ; :–, –; the
redaction of Num :–, –, ; :–; :–; :, –; :, –; :
on Eleasar.
 horst seebass

opened up by :, the tradition of Moses being God’s advisor in the tent
of meeting for the whole of the camp, and unto the land. While :–
gives a special tradition on Aaron’s role in the service of the tent, :– is
a necessary element as commissioning the Levites by the #edah, and :–
 as the ideal picture of the people’s obedience before the breakdown of
:– and following. The tale of the military sanctuary campaign to the
promised land could then begin.
 UNDERSTANDING THE PENTATEUCH
BY STRUCTURING THE DESERT:
NUMBERS 21 AS A COMPOSITIONAL JOINT*

Christian Frevel

Since the declining of the sun of source criticism in the th century
the book of Numbers has become a “sleeping beauty.” There are a lot
of prejudices against this book, be it its legal content or the mostly
misunderstood alternation of story and law. The Christian prejudices of
the th century are still perceptible. Only one example of an influential
judgment shall underline this, namely Bruno Baentsch’s comment on
Numbers –:
Übrigens gehört der ganze Abschnitt so ziemlich zu dem Ödesten, das in
der Literatur jemals produziert worden ist. Aber wie eine Perle in wert-
loser Schale liegt darin doch der herrliche Priestersegen 22–27 eingebet-
tet, und die Eifersuchts-Tora in 11–31 gehört zu den in kulturhistorischer
Beziehung interessantesten Dokumenten des Pentateuchs.1
Numbers is interesting, but not relevant. The source critical model
worked out well in Genesis. It worked less well in Exodus, but in Num-
bers only roughly, and sometimes with violence. Martin Noth has set a
landmark with his exegesis of Joshua, in which he neglected the tradi-
tional sources and found the Deuteronomistic History instead.2 In his
commentary on Numbers on the one hand he held fast to the sources in
this book, but on the other hand he recognized the pressure of the doc-
umentary hypothesis, which seeks to trace the lines starting in Genesis.
Noth respected the bridge-building function of the book of Numbers and

* I am grateful to contribute with some compositional and diachronic remarks to the

book of Numbers in the Festschrift in honor of a Joshua commentator. Ed Noort is an

admired teacher and colleague who has introduced the author into the world of Levantine
archaeology and the fascinating shape and history of the land of Israel by conducting
the “Lehrkurs” of the “Deutsches Evangelisches Institut für Altertumswissenschaft des
Heiligen Landes/German Protestant Institute of Archaeology” in .
1 B. Baentsch, Exodus, Leviticus, Numeri (HK .; Göttingen ), .
2 See C. Frevel, “Deuteronomistisches Geschichtswerk oder Geschichtswerke? Die

These Martin Noths zwischen Tetrateuch, Hexateuch und Enneateuch,” in Martin Noth:
Aus der Sicht heutiger Forschung (ed. U. Rüterswörden; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), –.
 christian frevel

searched for Hexateuchal and Enneateuchal solutions. But in the mean-

while the source critical model as a base for Old Testament exegesis of the
Pentateuch has been broken. The Yahwist is challenged just as the Priestly
source. One of the new arising battlefields can be found in Numbers. To
give just one example: if one asks for the end of the Priestly source (PG),
the alternative between the Sinai pericope and the traditional end with
the death of Moses in Deut : or  is not decided in Exodus, Leviti-
cus, or Deuteronomy: the crucial point is the existence of a P-version
of the spy story in Numbers.3 During the last decade the book of Num-
bers is re-evaluated in Pentateuchal discussions as well as in redactional
criticism.4 This is due to the broad study Die Vollendung der Tora of Rein-
hard Achenbach,5 the studies of Oliver Artus6 and Ulrich Fistill,7 or the
famous compositional analysis of Won Lee.8
Certainly, the structure is a challenge to many and was often mis-
understood as chaotic or “reichlich undurchsichtig” (“amply obscure”).9
Thomas C. Römer has characterized the situation felicitously: “Numbers
is indeed the only book of the Pentateuch where commentators need sev-
eral pages to justify their idea of the structure of the book and to refute

3 See C. Frevel, Mit Blick auf das Land die Schöpfung erinnern: Zum Ende der Priester-
grundschrift (HBS ; Freiburg ). The last overview was given by T.C. Römer, “Israel’s
Sojourn in the Wilderness and the Construction of the Book of Numbers,” in Reflec-
tion and Refraction: Studies in Biblical Historiography in Honour of A. Graeme Auld (ed.
R. Rezetko et al.; VTSup ; Leiden ), –, esp. –, regrettably without
taking my counter-arguments of an early end of P in Exodus, Leviticus, or Numbers into
account.
4 See T.C. Römer, “De la périphérie au centre,” in The Books of Leviticus and Numbers

(ed. idem; BEThL ; Louvain; in press); idem, “Israel’s Sojourn,” –, esp. –;
idem, “Nombres,” in Introduction à l’Ancien Testament (ed. T.C. Römer and J.-D. Macchi;
Le Monde de la Bible ; Geneva ), –; O. Artus, “Les dernières rédactions du
livre des Nombres et l’unité littéraire du livre,” in Les dernières rédactions du Pentateuque,
de l’Hexateuque et de l’Ennéateuque (ed. T.C. Römer and K. Schmid; BEThL ; Louvain
), –; H. Seebass, “Holy Land in the Old Testament: Numbers and Joshua,” VT
 () –, esp. .
5 R. Achenbach, Die Vollendung der Tora: Studien zur Redaktionsgeschichte des Nume-

ribuches im Kontext von Hexateuch und Pentateuch (BZABR ; Wiesbaden ).

6 O. Artus, Etudes sur le livre des Nombres: Récit, histoire et loi en Nb ,–,

(OBO ; Fribourg ).

7 U. Fistill, Israel und das Ostjordanland: Untersuchungen zur Komposition von Num

,–, im Hinblick auf die Entstehung des Buches Numeri (ÖBS ; Frankfurt a.M.
).
8 W.W. Lee, Punishment and Forgiveness in Israel’s Migratory Campaign (Grand Rap-

ids ).
9 M. Noth, Das vierte Buch Mose. Numeri (d ed.; ATD .; Göttingen ), ; see

ch. , where Noth calls it “verworrene Anordnung des Inhalts.”

 understanding the pentateuch 

others.”10 Here I do not discuss the proposals of a twofold, threefold, or

fivefold structure of Numbers in detail,11 but will focus on the signifi-
cance of “space” and “land” in the book of Numbers, especially in its
latter part. The starting point of my argumentation is the proposal of
structuring Numbers in five parts: Num :–:; :–:; :–
:; :–:; :–: predominantly-overlaying the twofold
structure of an old and a new generation (Num :–:; : respec-
tively :–:).12
In the first part I analyse the structure of the posterior parts of Num-
bers synchronically by taking the end of the book as the point of depar-
ture. This illustrates that the spatial dimension and the “land”-theme are
crucial for the arrangement of Numbers in a Hexateuchal context: Num-
bers is a Hexateuchal not a Pentateuchal book. In the second part of this
article Numbers  is considered as a transitional chapter and turning
point of the composition of Numbers proceeding from failure to suc-
cess or from refusal to realisation. The argumentation brings about some
diachronic aspects of Numbers . At the end of this article I draw some
lines of the origins of the narrative material behind the text, respectively
behind the redactional layers of the book of Numbers, by taking Num-
bers  as example. This sheds light on the interrelation between histor-
ical (diachronic) and compositional (synchronic) analysis.

. The Book of Numbers as a Composition

There is no doubt that the book of Numbers is part of a larger literary

unit. It is chronologically attached to the time frame of Exodus  and
Leviticus – and continues the narrative threads of the Sinai narrative.
It carries on this narrative not only chronologically, but spatially, too. It
begins at the foot of the mountain thus underlining the centripetal power
of the Sinai and its central theme, the reconciling nearness of God. Thus,
it is looking back to Sinai. At the same time it ends at the border of

10 Römer, “Israel’s Sojourn,” .

11 See D.T. Olson, The Death of the Old and the Birth of the New: The Framework of the
Book of Numbers and the Pentateuch (BJSt ; Chico ), –; Fistill, Israel, –;
E. Zenger and C. Frevel, “Die Bücher Levitikus und Numeri als Teile der Pentateuchkom-
position,” in The Books of Leviticus and Numbers (ed. T.C. Römer; BETL ; Louvain
), –, –.
12 See C. Frevel, “Numeri,” in Stuttgarter Altes Testament (ed. E. Zenger; Stuttgart 

[d ed.; ]), –, esp. –.

 christian frevel

the land where the events described in Deuteronomy take place. Thus,
the book of Numbers bridges the gap between Sinai and promised land
by the transition from Sinai to Paran/Kadesh (Num :–:) and
from Kadesh to Moab (Num :–:; :) at the border of the land.
In that way it continues the movement, which started with the Exodus
and which was grounded in the promise to the fathers. In announcing
and preparing the death of Moses in Numbers  and  the book of
Numbers refers relatively early to Deuteronomy and to the end of the
Pentateuch. With the division of the land of Canaan it points far beyond
the death of Moses to its actualization in the book of Joshua. Already this
simplification of the plot sheds light on the significance of the “land”-
theme in the book of Numbers. This is obvious in the topics of the last
part of Numbers :–:: the “new generation” which will come into
the land, the appointment of Joshua as leader, and the announcement
of the death of Moses as the last one of the Exodus generation, the
allocation of the land east of the river Jordan, and the inheriting of
the land by the daughters of Zelophehad. However, the significance of
the land-theme is present from start to finish with gradually increasing
impact. The book of Numbers has a Janus face looking back and ahead,
and keeping in mind the importance of Sinai on the one hand and
the land on the other hand.13 The shift from refusal of the land and
resistance against God and his chosen leader in Num :–: to the
beginning realization of inheritance in Num :–: presupposes
the death of the old generation. It is important that this demographic
decline in the middle parts Num :–: and Num :–: is
affiliated with, first partly and then fully, preservation notwithstanding
new sins, insurgencies, skepticism, and disbelief. While this development
is gradual, Numbers  is a turning point in several respects. This will be
unfolded below, but first we have to look at the spatial markers and the
importance of Moab in Num :–:.

. Unfolding the Structure from the End: The Compositional

Function of áàåî úáøòá (“in the Plains of Moab”)

At the end of the book the legislation of some of the laws which were
given before is located “in the plains of Moab by the Jordan at Jericho.”

13 See for details Zenger and Frevel, “Die Bücher Levitikus und Numeri,” –.
 understanding the pentateuch 

The spatial dimension of Num : is crucial. It is a structuring element

in the last part of the book; besides that, it builds bridges to Num :–
:. As a kind of “cascade” Num : refers back to Num : via Num
:; :; :; :; :. In Num : Israel is said to encamp in the
plains of Moab (åçøé ïãøéì øáòî áàåî úåáøòá åðçéå); geographically spoken
the ġōr el-belk. a are the lowlands of the Jordan estuary. The localization
åçøé ïãøé ìò áàåî úáøòá in Num : takes up the introduction of the
speech in Num :. The last two divine speeches of the whole book are
found in Numbers  (introduction formulae in Num :, ) mentioning
the selection of the cities of refuge. Numbers  does not contain divine
speeches in direct manner anymore. The selection of the cities of refuge
and the Levitical cities refer explicitly to the territories of the East and
West Jordan as well (Num :, ). Consequently, Num : recalls
the actual position and refers to Canaan as the final destination. That is
underlined by referring to the time after the Israelites will have crossed
the Jordan. Numbers  deals with the Levitical cities and the cities of
refuge and points therewith to its textual counterpart in Joshua –.
Thus, the expression åçøé ïãøé ìò áàåî úáøòá seems to be inappropriate
to mark the closure of the book, because it strengthens the Hexateuchal
dimension.
Before Num : the localization in this exact form is attested twice in
Num : and :. First, it is referring to the last stage of the Exodus
from Rameses in Egypt in the itinerary v. . With this reference the cur-
rent position in Moab at the end of Numbers is configured as conclusion
of the events of the Exodus and the act of liberation. This fact indicates
that the turning point in the book of Numbers from wrathful annihilation
(Num :–) up to the blessing at the end (Num :) has already
been accomplished. This altered prospect becomes obvious in the Balaam
story as well as in the division of the land in the east and it is underlined
by the changed perspective in the “Landgabeformel.”14 From Num :
onwards the land which was promised to the fathers is given already on
a text level, namely syntactically by the shift from ïúð yiqtol to ïúð qatal.
Whereas this is merely stated by God in Num :, it is becoming to be
accomplished from Num : onwards as will be seen below.

14 See N. Lohfink, “Wann hat Gott dem Volk Israel das den Vätern verheißene Land

gegeben? Zu einem rätselhaften Befund im Buch Numeri,” in Väter der Kirche: Ekklesiales
Denken von den Anfängen bis in die Neuzeit (ed. J. Arnold et al.; Paderborn ),
–; idem, “Die Landübereignung in Numeri und das Ende der Priesterschrift: Zu
einem rätselhaften Befund im Buch Numeri,” in Studien zum Deuteronomium und zur
deuteronomistischen Literatur (ed. idem; SBAB ; Stuttgart ), :–.
 christian frevel

We consider now the significance of the phrase ïãøé ìò áàåî úáøòá

åçøé in Num : and . Although there are still three chapters of
Numbers and the whole Deuteronomy to come, the localization “in the
plains of Moab by the Jordan of Jericho” in the itinerary (Num :) can
be seen as a gravitational push towards the end of the book of Numbers.
The second attestation of the phrase in the final divine speech in Num
:– establishes a significant link to the end of the book. Num :
expands the introduction formula øîàì äùî­ìà äåäé øáãéå with the exact
localization åçøé ïãøé ìò áàåî úáøòá and differs thereby from most of the
speech-introductions in Numbers. The speech “in the plains of Moab
by the Jordan of Jericho” in vv. – is clearly influenced by the late
Deuteronomistic language and presents the classical late mixed style of
the book of Numbers. It takes into account the conquest of Canaan and
orders the distribution of the western part of the land, which is given
already (v.  äúà úùøì õøàä­úà éúúð íëì éë). The short Yhwh-speech
has its compositional counterpart in Numbers  in the allocation of
the land east of the Jordan. It is very important with respect to the
composition that the long itinerary in Numbers  stands between the
distribution of Gilead (Numbers ) and the instructions how to manage
the distribution of Canaan (Num :–:) which is narrated in Josh
:–:. We cannot neglect that the distribution in Numbers  is a
hybrid between “already” and “not yet”: the eastern tribes are confronted
with the refusal of the land by the fathers (Num :–) and the threat
of the continuation of the stay in the desert. Hence, they confess to join
the whole of Israel in conquering Canaan. Thus, Numbers  is both a
retrospect and the beginning of something new.
On the one hand Num :– points to the book of Joshua and
beyond, on the other hand it is connected with Num :. There is
no doubt that Num : signals a conclusion as well as an open end.
That becomes quite clear, when one includes the first instance of the
localization in the book of Numbers. åçøé ïãøé ìò áàåî úáøòá is also
found exactly in Num : and  as the location of the second census. By
spanning Num : with : the phrase constitutes a main subdivision
of the book of Numbers. Thus, Num :–: are configured as an
independent part of the book supporting the suggestion of a two-part
structure of Numbers by Dennis Olson and others.15

15 See Olson, Death, –; idem, Numbers (Interpretation; Louisville ), –.
 understanding the pentateuch 

The second census in Numbers  is the clear signal that the already
mentioned turning point in Numbers  reached its climax. The gen-
eration of the exodus that rebelled against the quality of the land and
to whom the death in the desert had been announced (Num :–
; beyond the last reduction narrative of Numbers ), except Moses,
already died out (Num :–). After the death of the old, the new
raises. This is presented by the newly patterned Israel, and it is located at
the border of the land, too. Towards this new generation the promise is to
be realized. Only the death of Moses which is announced shortly after the
census in Num :– is still outstanding and it takes several chapters
until the leader dies in Deut :.16 The tension that the promise will not
be fulfilled persists as long as Moses lives.
By the link between Num : and : a unit of the book of Numbers
is created. However, this unit cannot stand alone. It even crosses the
borders of the Pentateuch and thus evokes certain dynamics towards the
land in the last part of Numbers.
The spatial connection overarches both sides of this part of the book.
Although not the same words are used, the determination “in the plains
of Moab” can be found across the borders of the last part of the book of
Numbers, both before and after Num :–:. The only occurrence
of äáøò in the book of Numbers (except from the already mentioned)
can be found in Num :. Israel dwells åçøé ïãøéì øáòî áàåî úåáøòá. By
using the prepositional phrase ì øáòî the form differs from the already
discussed form with the preposition ìò. There is no difference in the local
position, because from Num : to Josh : Israel dwells in Shittim. This
site is mentioned explicitly in Num : at first, and from there Israel
departs to cross the Jordan in Josh :; :. The local data strengthens
the Hexateuchal frame as a presupposition to understand Numbers.
Nonetheless, the slight difference in the formulation is quite important,
because it is the presupposition for the constitution of Num :–: as
an independent part of the book of Numbers. From Num : a literally
overarching feature is present, not only loosely in the overall structure
of the local data in Deut :–, but it is even more obvious at the end
in Deuteronomy . The localization áàåî úåáøò can be found in Deut
: and  for the last time. Thus, the whole “plain of Moab”-section
(Num :–Deut :, respectively Joshua ) is considered the last stage
of the wilderness period. The significant phrase “in the plains of Moab”

16 For the analysis of the death notices in Numbers and Deuteronomy see Frevel, Blick,

–.
 christian frevel

can be further subdivided. While Moab plays a significant role in the

Balaam story (Num :–:),17 the nomen proprium is attested  times
before Numbers :. Thus, the reality of Moab is present in the book of
Numbers before Num :, first in the encamping notice of Num :.
However, Iye-Abarim is not located in proper Moab but in the desert
east of Moab (ùîùä çøæîî áàåî éðô­ìò øùà øáãîá íéøáòä ééòá åðçéå).18
The other references of Moab in Numbers  are geographically deviant
in a comparable way: in Num : Moab is used twice to distinguish
the location of Israel from Moab. Num :, , ,  are poetical
references which do not denote the position of Israel. Only in Num
:, at the end of the fragmentary itinerary of Num :b–, the
location is: “to the valley lying in the region of Moab, by the top of Pisgah,
which overlooks the wasteland” (ïîéùéä éðô­ìò äô÷ùðå äâñôä ùàø áàåî
äãùá øùà àéâä).19 Different from other itinerary notices in the book of
Numbers this itinerary lacks the verbs òñð and ïçé. Israel is not encamping
explicitly in Moab. This is said only in Num : by the mentioned phrase
åçøé ïãøéì øáòî áàåî úåáøòá.20 Nearly every single phrase in Num : is
significant in its textual reference, especially to the Balaam story (where
Moab plays a significant role too), Num :, and Deuteronomy .21 It
is clear that Num : has a structuring function. This is, however, quite
different from the reference system described above. Thus, there is a clear
distinction between the references to Moab in Numbers  and Num
:. Moab is spatially present, but not the “plains of Moab,” and Israel
is not encamping explicitly inside the borders of Moab. It is important
that Num : locates Israel åçøé ïãøéì øáòî. Numbers  is in some
way “in-between.” We will look closer to the compositional function of
Numbers  below.

17 In total  records: Num :,  bis,  bis, , , , , , ; :, , ; :. The

only instances beside the Balaam story are the áàåî úåðá in Num :. They have their
own compositional significance which cannot be discussed here.
18 See for the vague localization of Iye-Abarim J.M. Miller, “The Israelite Journey

through (around) Moab and Moabite Toponymy,” JBL  () –, esp. ;
B. MacDonald, “East of the Jordan”: Territories and Sites of the Hebrew Scriptures (ASOR
Books ; Boston ), : “In SE plain of the Dead Sea between Wadi Khanazir and
Bab adh Dhra".”
19 Translation P.J. Budd, Numbers (WBC ; Waco ), .
20 Fistill is missing this crucial point by characterizing Num : only as “überleitende

und einleitende Ortsangabe, welche die nachfolgende Perikope in diesen Zusammenhang

einreiht” (Israel, ).
21 àéâ (the only reference of this lexeme in Numbers) is pointing to Deut :; :;

:; äâñôä ùàø is pointing to Num :; Deut :, ; :, and ó÷ù N-stem with ­ìò
ïîéùéä éðô is pointing clearly to Num :.
 understanding the pentateuch 

Let us summarize: our starting point was the last verse of Numbers
(Num :) and the intertextual references. This verse reveals the spatial
dimension of the last part of the book of Numbers. Taken together,
the local data form several overarching structures, which shape the last
part of the book and bridge the central part of the book of Numbers.
Moreover, the framework of the last chapters of Numbers points far
beyond Deuteronomy into a Hexateuchal context of understanding.
The spatial dimension is truly important for the composition of the
book of Numbers. Num : establishes and concludes the last part of
the book by its resumption of Num :. Thus, it becomes a colophon.
This is not only so because of the spatial dimension of the verse, but also
because of the similarity with the last and concluding verse of Leviticus
(:).22 This cannot be unfolded in length here, but we can summarize
with Norbert Lohfink: “Man verbindet die Kolophone am besten mit der
Größe “Buch” . . . Es sind Buchabschlüsse.”23
Numbers – must be analysed within the scope of the Hexateuch,
since it is incomplete on its own and needs Joshua – to be under-
stood. No other passage in the Tetrateuch necessitates the Hexateuch
more than Numbers –. But first we look more closely at the central
part of Numbers.

. Between Kadesh and Moab: The Spatial Structure of the Centre

The fringe of the book has shown a far reaching perspective, beyond the
borders of the book of Numbers and even beyond those of the Penta-
teuch. I cannot deal here in detail with the first part of Numbers, Num-
bers –, but the results are the same.24 The book is anchored firmly
in the Sinai narrative of Exodus and Leviticus. Num : begins some-
thing new and is simultaneously a continuation of the foregoing. Thus,
the book of Numbers is encamped “between” Exodus and Joshua and is
embedded in Exodus and Joshua by a structure with a starting point and
a destination. The structure of the book of Numbers is designed by the
spatial axis “Egypt–Sinai–Desert–Moab–Canaan” whereas the narrative

22 See Zenger and Frevel, “Die Bücher Levitikus und Numeri,” –.
23 N. Lohfink, “Prolegomena zu einer Rechtshermeneutik des Pentateuchs,” in Studien
zum Deuteronomium und zur deuteronomistischen Literatur (ed. idem; SBAB ; Stuttgart
), :.
24 See Zenger and Frevel, “Die Bücher Levitikus und Numeri,” –, –.
 christian frevel

location of the book of Numbers is restricted to the middle three. The fol-
lowing will reveal the important transition area between Kadesh in Num
: and the encamping of Israel in the lowlands of Moab Num :.25
In Exodus and in the first part of the book (Num :, ; :, ;
:, ; :) the desert as the location for the camp was fundamental;
but in the following chapters the øáãî, “desert,” is even more important.
Half of all the attestations of øáãî in the book of Numbers ( times) is
found in the section from Num : through : respectively :.
This desert area is marked by an obvious system of three geographical
connections: Kadesh, Red Sea, and Hormah. It symbolizes a situation
between an endangering of life and the life giving promised land. Kadesh
at the border of the cultivated land has, thus, a liminal function.
The spies in Numbers , who are to inspect the land of Canaan
depart from Kadesh (Num :). When they are back at Kadesh, their
report provokes detraction and rejection of the divine gift, the promised
land. The story is the crucial turning point of Numbers as well as the
anti-climax. It evokes the wrath of Yhwh, which causes the delay of
entering the land and the wilderness journey. Also from Kadesh as point
of departure, Moses sends messengers to Edom (Num :, , ). This
causes a detour again. Both stories are linked to the óåñ­íé êøã, “the way
to the Sea of Reeds,” phrase (Num :; :). In both instances—but
especially in Num :—the way to the Sea of Reeds is a textual cipher
signalising a setback rather than a concrete geographical specification.
In Num : the already failed conquest amounts to the “disaster of
Hormah” (äîøç). Like the óåñ­íé êøã there are only two attestations of
this location in the book of Numbers, and it is again Numbers , where
the term appears (Num :). However, the situation has changed: in
Numbers , Yhwh was not with Israel, so Israel was defeated (Num
:); in Numbers  Yhwh drives the Canaanites into the hands of
the Israelites (Num :).26 It is not by chance that Numbers  is
the turning point from destruction to blessing: () Num :–: the
power of the copper serpent as a continual and thus lasting prevention;
() Num :–:: preservation of Israel by the failing curse of Balaam;

25 I will leave aside the parallels in Deuteronomy – which are—following the plot of

the Pentateuch—not relevant in compositional respect here. I want to emphasize the fact
that the diachronical relation between Numbers –; –; and Deuteronomy – is
rather complex and would have needed a too lengthy argumentation here.
26 Fistill underestimates the significance of the turning point in Num :– by

characterizing the military success as “Zwischenfall” without compositional significance

(Israel, ).
 understanding the pentateuch 

and, thus, the confirmation of the blessing of Israel; () Num :–:
uncultic expiation and preservation through the act of Phinehas; ()
Num :–:: attested preservation in the second census which
signifies the minimal loss in quantity. The section from Numbers  to
Numbers  is crucial for the development of the theological message
of the book of Numbers, namely preservation and saving by Yhwh (due
to his promise and his steadfast grace) in spite of disobedience of Israel
in the past.27 It is not accidental that this area, which is connected with
“preservation,” is especially marked by the encounter with the peoples
of the lands the Israelites are crossing through (Edomites, Canaanites,
Amorites, Moabites, and Midianites).
In contrast, the preceding part, which is enclosed by the mention of
Kadesh (Num :; :), is marked by loss and rebellion. It seems to be
intentional that the trespass of the leaders and the passing by of Miriam
and Aaron are positioned at the end of this subsection, and that Kadesh
is mentioned four times in Numbers . Numbers  forms a transitional
area in compositional regards; it leads over from the wilderness period to
the “conquest period” as Martin Noth already noted in a seminal article
from .28
It is obvious that spatial tags with structuring functions characterize
the central part of the book. The encampment and decampment itinerary
notices that occur three times each at the beginning and the end of
the Kadesh block (Num :–; :; :; and Num :; :,
–) makes this structuring function even clearer. The last notice in
Num : is situated in the plains of Moab whose significance we have
discussed already. Though it is impossible to reconstruct a route based
on the itineraries geographically, it is obvious that the notices mark the
transition and the in-between of the three poles Sinai–Kadesh–Moab.

27 The citation of the grace formulae of Exod :– in Num :– is the only

instance of ãñç in the book of Numbers. Note the äðä­ãòå íéøöîî äæä íòì äúàùð øùàëå
in Num : and the important ascertainment in v. , êøáãë éúçìñ, referring to the
citation of Exod :– by Moses.
28 M. Noth, “Num  als Glied der ‘Hexateuch’-Erzählung,” ZAW  ( / ) –

, reprinted in idem, Aufsätze zur biblischen Landes- und Altertumskunde (Neukirchen-
Vluyn ), :–.
 christian frevel

. Numbers  as Transitional Area

If our observations concerning the spatial structure of the core of the

book of Numbers are correct, the localization of Num : in the plains
of Moab is not by chance. It opens the posterior part of the central part
up to Numbers  as a new beginning. As we have already mentioned,
in Numbers  the change is completed. The short statement “after
the plague” (äôâîä éøçà éäéå) in Num : signals that “it is over.”
Then Eleazar as successor of Aaron is addressed (äùî­ìà äåäé øîàéå
øîàì ïäëä ïøäà­ïá øæòìà ìàå) signalizing: “it will go on.” Numbers 
is the keystone of the “new generation” which will enter the land. The
section about the daughters of Zelophehad frames this last section in
Num :– and :–. Thus, Num :–: has the function
of an interlude taking place in the áàåî úåáøò, only a stone’s throw
away from the promised land. It plays with the “already” and the “not
yet.”
However, one would expect the interlude to begin in chapter  be-
cause the most significant change of mood is to be found there. But it
seems to be relevant that Israel enters the plains of Moab after Num-
bers . Ulrich Fistill has seen the tension between the geographically
structuring function on the one hand (Num :) and of Numbers 
being a turning point on the other hand. Following Rolf Knierim in
assuming a twofold structure of Numbers (Num :–: and :–
:)29 in general, Fistill wants to divide the second part of Numbers in
two parts Num :–: and :–:: “Es spricht einiges dafür,
den Beginn des zweiten Teilabschnittes bei Num , anzusetzen.”30
But as we have seen already, the text seems to be aware of the remark-
able difference between Num : and Num : in referring to Moab
as place of sojourn. Furthermore, Num : is not part of the spa-
tial reference system in the second part of Numbers. And third, Num
:– is the turning point from decimation to preservation after the
death of Aaron which has already been mentioned.31 It seems quite clear

29 See R. Knierim, “The Book of Numbers,” in Die Hebräische Bibel und ihre zweifache

Nachgeschichte (ed. E. Blum et al.; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), –; R. Knierim and

G.W. Coats, Numbers (FOTL ; Grand Rapids ), –; see further Lee, Punishment,
–.
30 Fistill, Israel, . See already J.L. Ska, Introduction à la lecture du Pentateuque: Clés

pour l’interprétation des cinq premiers livres de la Bible (Le Livre et le rouleau ; Brussels
), –.
31 Fistill tries to emphasize his proposal by adding a religious aspect: “Im ersten Teil-
 understanding the pentateuch 

that Numbers  stands on its own in a somewhat intermediate posi-

tion, being part of both Num :–: respectively :–: and
of Num :–:.32 Numbers  functions as a compositional hinge
(see below): there seems to be a difference between the geographical area
between the south and the north of the Arnon and the Moabite Plain.
While the land of Moab south of the Arnon (Num :) is neither con-
quered nor occupied, the land of the Amorites ranging from the Arnon to
the Jabbok is conquered and settled (Num :, ). Thus, Numbers 
is the transitional area between the desert existence and living in the land.
From Num : onwards Moabites are neighbors and not only enemies
in transition. This compositional argument seems plausible, but is in fact
not compelling. It is rather obvious to presume that there is more than
one compositional structure in Numbers or that the background of the
inconsistencies in compositional respect is due to diachronic reasons. It
is communis opinio that in diachronic respect, especially chapters –
contain various older material which were blended together almost with-
out order. We can take this position paradigmatically to comment rather
scantly on some questions of literary artwork and diachrony, tradition,
and oral transmission of the Pentateuchal traditions.
Focussing on Numbers  we have to struggle with the structure of
the disparate material. With relative consensus we can roughly subdivide
it into the following sections: Num :–; –; –; –; –33
being aware that we have neglected therefore the structuring function of
the back references and the poetical passages.

abschnitt (Num ,–,) geraten die Israeliten in mehrere Glaubenskrisen und das
Vorhaben scheitert; sie müssen militärische Einbußen hinnehmen und interne religiöse
Streitfragen lösen. Im zweiten Unterabschnitt (Num ,–,) ist Israel wieder zu
neuer Einheit erstarkt und kann sowohl seine “rein militärischen” (Num ,–) wie
auch “kultischen” Feldzüge (Num ) erfolgreich austragen” (Israel, –). Thereby he
neglects the importance of Numbers  as the last part of resistance of the people.
32 For Num : as significant break see Frevel, “Numeri,”  and ; Lee, Punish-

ment, –, , ; Seebass, “Holy Land,” .

33 Cf. Knierim and Coats, Numbers, –; Lee, Punishment, –; H. Seebass,

Numeri ,–, (BKAT .; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), – (adding Num :)
and L. Schmidt, Das vierte Buch Mose: Numeri ,–, (ATD ; Göttingen ),
– (not dividing Num :– strictly).
 christian frevel

. Neither Hexateuchal nor Pentateuchal: Numbers :–

Seebass reminds us to be careful with the interpretation of the conquest of

Hormah described in Num :–: “Die Erklärung dieser kurzen Notiz
leidet unter Eisegesen.”34 As already noted, Num :– is the shift from
failure to military success in conquering the land; and Num :–, the
section about the bronze serpent, is the transition to preservation instead
of obliteration (the story ends significantly with éçå “and he survived”).
To understand this significant change, it is necessary to go back to
the Kadesh chapter in Numbers . This chapter is the climax of the
wilderness rebellion and the climax of the “death of the old.” Miriam’s
death is unfounded—she dies as first of the leader trio, and it is explicitly
stated that she died in Kadesh. The trespass story of the main leaders
is in some way mysterious because it misses an explicit rationale for
their being discharged from leadership in v. . The story ends with
a likewise mysterious wordplay on the location Kadesh in Num :
(íá ùã÷éå äåäé­úà ìàøùé­éðá åáø­øùà äáéøî éî äîä). Then Israel sets out
from Kadesh in Num :, but again by a devious route. The direction
of the route is given by the refusal of the king of Edom to cross his
area (Num :–). Not by chance, the negotiations with the King
of Edom include a flashback to the Exodus story in vv. –. It is the
turning point of the wilderness journey. The øáòú àì spoken by the
king of Edom is thrown upon Israel as an almost unbearable obstacle
on the journey to the land (ä÷æç ãéáå ãáë íòá). The refusal to let the
Israelites pass causes them to proceed on the way to Mount Hor. The
problems concerning the identification of this place are well known. It
seems impossible to get a clear geographical orientation.35 This fits in
very well with the geographical chaos which is part of Numbers –
concerning the geographical connection between Kadesh, Hor, the way
of Atarim, the Jabbok as border of the Ammonites, and the itinerary in

34 Seebass, Numeri, .

35 The proposal of Y. Aharoni was to locate Hor near Kadesh on the way to Arad (ed.
A.F. Rainey, The Land of the Bible: A Historical Geography [Philadelphia ], –;
he mentions the hill #Imāret el-Hurēše / #Ameret Huraše). Since Josephus (Ant. .–;
˘
.) Hor was located in the vicinity ˘ Byzantine times on the Ğebel Har̄un
of Petra, since
(cf. Der Süden [vol.  of Orte und Landschaften der Bibel; ed. O. Keel and M. Küchler; Göt-
tingen ], ); W. Zwickel, “Der Durchzug der Israeliten durch das Ostjordanland,”
UF  () –, –. The proposal of a complete artificial denotation Sin
or Abarim (cf. P. Weimar, “Der Tod Aarons und das Schicksal Israels: Num ,–*,”
in Biblische Theologie und gesellschaftlicher Wandel [ed. G. Braulik; Freiburg ], –
) is somehow sophisticated, because the sense of øää øä as artifice remains obscure.
 understanding the pentateuch 

: etc. Anyway, in Num : the king of Arad or the éðòðëä attack
Israel and take prisoners (éáù åðîî áùéå), and this is the reversal of the
liberation of the exodus. Thus, there has to be a change if the promise
of Yhwh shall go forth and be actualized. Israel makes a vow to ban
(íøç) the cities of the Canaanites. This is a contradiction to the conquest
narrative, but also a clear Hexateuchal link to the book of Joshua: on the
one hand—as R. Achenbach has pointed out—it is the counterpart to
the refusal of taking the “land of the giants” in Numbers –.36 This
becomes obvious by the explicit resumption of the already mentioned
place name äîøç in v. . But as the reader knows, the vow to conquer the
cities of Canaan is not fulfilled immediately, but has to wait until Joshua
–, where íøç is used frequently in the context of the conquest of the
Canaanite cities (Josh :, , ; :, , , , ; :; :, , ,
, , ; :, , , ). Contrarily, we read in Num : äåäé òîùéå
éðòðëä­úà ïúéå ìàøùé ìå÷á. The elliptical formulation lacks åãéá, but it can
only be understood as narrative of the conquest of the Canaanite cities.
The text continues íäéøò­úàå íäúà íøçéå “and they banned them and
their cities.” This is clearly anachronistic. If Yhwh has given the cities
of Canaan to Israel, and if Israel has conquered the cities entirely, why
does Israel accept a further delay in taking possession of Canaan, and
why does Israel keep staying in the wilderness? The problems have led
to different solutions in the history of research. The fathers of source
criticism assigned the passage to the Yehowist or Yahwist37 as Horst
Seebass and others recently do.38 Other exegetes challenge any source
affiliation and see an editorial construct.39 Since the passage does not
seem to fit in here, it was often opted in favor of a displacement. Martin
Noth has written: “Seine jetzige Stelle gibt auch ihm den Charakter eines
Nachtrags zur Wüstenüberlieferung; doch diese Stelle verdankt es erst
anscheinend der redaktionellen Anordnung der Dinge.”40 Because of
the obvious and conflicting parallel to Judg :, Achenbach sees the
fingerprint of the “Hexateuchredaktor” and a reflection on the conflicts

36 Achenbach, Vollendung, .

37 See Budd, Numbers, –.
38 Cf. Seebass, Numeri, –; Knierim and Coats, Numbers, .
39 See the reference in Achenbach, Vollendung, ; C. Levin, Der Jahwist (FRLANT

; Göttingen ), .

40 Noth, Das vierte Buch Mose: Numeri, ; cf. idem, “Num ,” , attributing Num

:– to the Yahwist: “Woher sie stammt, ist nicht mehr festzustellen; sie könnte einmal
an irgendeiner Stelle in der J-Erzählung gestanden haben und später redaktionell an den
hiesigen Platz versetzt worden sein.”
 christian frevel

of possession regarding the southern Negev in post-exilic times.41 But

it is not only the “south” or the “Negev” that is mentioned here; it is
the whole land of Canaan and all the cities of the Canaanites; and that
contradicts the Hexateuchal thread and perspective. Ludwig Schmidt has
recently suggested the latest date: “Die kleine Erzählung ist jünger als
die Pentateuchredaktion.”42 The only background for this assumption
is the attribution of Num :a to the “Pentateuchredaktor” and the
äîøç øéòä­íù­úà àø÷éå in Judg :. There is an obvious contradiction
between the itinerary in v. , which mentions that Israel departed from
the mountain Hor (óåñ­íé êøã øää øäî åòñéå) which is the continuation
of Num :–, and the itinerary in Num :, which mentions that
Israel is on the way of Atarim (íéøúàä êøã ìàøùé àá éë). But in attributing
vv. – to the very late redaction without any relation to a tradition,
Schmidt makes the author responsible for the syntactical discordance
between the single place name and the many cities. Would it not be more
convincing to take the etiology äîøç íå÷îä­íù àø÷éå as a later addition
borrowing the phrase from Judg :? The naming of the conquered
place as äîøç fits in with the singular äúåà åîéøçéå in Judg : and
not in Num :. Thus, it seems obvious that Num :b is an editorial
addition which aims to link the phrase up to Num : by consciously
ignoring the tradition of Judg : and the geographical accuracy. The
same holds probably true for the óåñ­íé êøã in Num :, which does not
fit in with the geographical facts, wherever Hor is to be localized.43 The
redactor wanted to link up the wilderness period from Numbers  up
to Numbers : the unsuccessful attempt to conquer Canaan on Israel’s
own responsibility in Num :–, and the successful counterpart in
Num :–. The disobedience of the people is replaced by obedience
and therefore the story motivates to go beyond murmur and towards the
successful conquest. Since this redactor uses Judg : without any need
of harmonization, he, of course, did not have an Enneateuchal context
in his mind. It is the “composition”-layer of the book of Numbers which
organized the whole Hexateuchal material as one account. I do not want
to call it “Hexateuchredaktion” as E. Otto and R. Achenbach do, because

41 See Achenbach, Vollendung, , , with the assumption of a displacement in the

background.
42 Schmidt, Das vierte Buch Mose, .
43 Presupposed is the identification of the Reed Sea with the Red Sea, the Gulf of

Eilat, which is by no means clear and depends on the date of every single attestation,
see H. Lamberty-Zielinsky, Das “Schilfmeer”: Herkunft, Bedeutung und Funktion eines
alttestamentlichen Exodusbegriffs (BBB ; Frankfurt a.M. ), –, –.
 understanding the pentateuch 

my accents and dates are different, but it has a Hexateuchal background

and it is indeed dated after the P-Tradition and the “Pentateuchredaktor.”
But who is responsible for the short narrative about the violent resis-
tance of the king of Arad against Israel? On the one hand it reveals a
Pentateuchal horizon, because it skips or in some way replaces the Joshua
account of the conquest. Thus, it can fit the so-called “Pentateuchredak-
tor” who attests no conquest of the land in the book of Joshua. But, on
the other hand, the story itself does not fit into the horizon of the so-
called “Pentateuchredaktion” if we take the portrayal of the conquest
of the Canaanites as revenge.44 The “Pentateuchredaktor” cannot be the
author of this narrative. It seems to be associated with an older tradi-
tion. It is striking that the only four occurrences of the verb íçì can be
found in Num :, , , and Num :. The story of Sihon is often
claimed to belong to an older tradition.45 The same is true for the Balaam
story. Maybe the Yahwist or the Yehowist is responsible, but that is by
no means clear.46 Thus, it is likewise possible that the “older” tradition of
Num :–* was part of the Yahwistic or Yehowistic account of the con-
quest of Cisjordan. But this assumption is rather due to the need of a link
in the older tradition. However, it was picked up by the so-called “Pen-
tateuchredaktor” and brought together with the P-source, to which we
have attributed the preceding narrative of Aaron’s death and the itinerary
of Num :aα; :.47 Eventually, this can also explain why the incident
is not mentioned in Deuteronomy .
In sum: not the “Hexateuchredaktor” picked up the older traditions
(R. Achenbach) in this case, but—comparatively conventional—the so-
called “Pentateuchredaktor” did. Certainly, Achenbach is right in dem-
onstrating the Hexateuchal face of the last formative redaction of Num-
bers. This redaction took up the link between the end of Numbers 
and Numbers  and strengthened it, neglecting the concrete contra-
diction between Joshua and Numbers :a. The suggested sequence of
the redactional layers in Numbers hints to the fact that there should be

44 We have to compare this carefully to Numbers  where the war against the

Midianites seems to be a sort of revenge.

45 In older source critical studies it is usually attributed to E, cf. Noth, “Num ,” and

his commentary.
46 See C. Frevel, “Are There Any Reasons Why Balaam Has to Die? Prophecy, Pseudo-

Prophecy and Sorcery in the Book of Numbers,” in The Torah in Psalms and Prophets (ed.
J. Le Roux and E. Otto; JSOTSup; Sheffield; in print).
47 Or in a more elaborate manner: Num :*, –; :; for discussion see Frevel,

Blick, .
 christian frevel

more than one Hexateuchal redaction. The one we have proposed in Num
:a and the one we hold responsible for the end-redaction of Numbers
should be dated subsequent to the “Pentateuchredaktor.”

. Oozing Sources or Sources Oozing out of Numbers :–?

Interestingly enough the following tradition is similar in function and

origin.48 The story of the bronze serpent (Num :–) is the last real
murmuring story which is linked to Numbers – and especially to
the beginning of the murmuring stories Numbers  in many ways:

() It begins with the faint-heartedness of the people, which is literally

expressed as “the næfæš of the people became short on the way” (øö÷úå
êøãá íòä­ùôð). The only incidence of the root øö÷ in Numbers is the
question of Yhwh in Num : øö÷ú äåäé ãéä, “is the hand of Yhwh too
short?”

() á øáã, “to speak against” in v.  which is attested two times in

Numbers  (cf. v. ). This phrase is a clear link to the only other instances
of this phrase in Num :, , where Miriam and Aaron speak against
Moses (v.  äùîá ïøäàå íéøî øáãúå; v.  äùîá éãáòá øáãì).

() The question íéøöîî åðúéìòä äîì, “why have you brought us up out
of Egypt?,” of : is attested likewise in : and—even though with àöé
Qal instead of äìò Hiphil—attested in Num :.

() ì÷ì÷ä íçìá äö÷ åðùôðå, “and we detest this miserable food” (Num
:) states the disgust against the food which was announced with
reference to the quails in Num : with a completely different wording
(àøæì íëì äéäå, “and becomes loathsome to you”). The íëì, “to you,”
points to the manna which was criticized already in Num : ­ìà éúìá
åðéðéò ïîä, “except for this manna to look at.”

48 The following remarks on the redactional shape of Num :– cannot discuss

the elaborate positions in research of the last two decades. I mention only H. See-
bass, “Biblisch-theologischer Versuch zu Num ,– und ,–,” in Altes Testament:
Forschung und Wirkung: Festschrift für Henning Graf Reventlow (ed. P. Mommer and
W. Thiel; Frankfurt a.M. ), –; S. Beyerle, “Die ‘Eherne Schlange’ Num ,–:
Synchron und diachron gelesen,” ZAW  () –; K. Koenen, “Eherne Schlange
und goldenes Kalb: Ein Vergleich der Überlieferungen,” ZAW  () –.
 understanding the pentateuch 

() The confession of the people with åðàèç, “we have sinned,” (Num :)
refers to the two other attestations of this form in the book of Numbers
in Num :; :.

() ììô Hitpael, “to plea, to pray,” is the next explicit link. We can find this
verb in Numbers only in : and :. The sentence äåäé­ìà äùî ììôúéå,
“and Moses prayed to God,” is divided into the request äåäé­ìà ììôúä and
the execution äùî ììôúéå.
Taken altogether, there is no doubt that these relations are not by
chance. Erik Aurelius has characterized the end-form of Num :–
rightly as “ziemlich schriftgelehrte[s] Murren.”49 Ludwig Schmidt has
pointed out that v.  summarizes different reasons which cause mur-
muring. But contrarily to E. Aurelius and R. Achenbach,50 it is not Num
:– which is the main point of reference, but preponderantly Num
:– and Numbers .51 The parallelization to Num :– is rather
of structural nature. However, the narrative in Num :– seems to be
intended as a closing parenthesis of the murmuring tradition. It is care-
fully composed and related to the other wilderness narratives. Whether
we have to relate the narrative material to any late redaction is doubtful
because there remain certain withstanding moments: () unlike the other
murmuring stories, there is no remedy of the shortcomings of water and
food, which is presented as the cause of the murmur. So there seems to
be a break between vv.  and . () The different designations of the ser-
pents as íéôøùä íéùçðä in v. , ùçðä in v. , óøù in v. , and again ùçð in v. 
remain puzzling. Deut : with its óøù ùçð crosses one’s mind. However,
are the inconsistencies the work of a redactor alone? Several analyses in
recent times have disproved the assumption of traditional sources in this
text.52 Already Martin Noth has written:

49 E. Aurelius, Der Fürbitter Israels: Eine Studie zum Mosebild im Alten Testament

(ConBOT ; Stockholm ), . Whether this has the post-RP-origin as the only
consequence, as Aurelius, Fürbitter, , thinks, is an open question. Schmidt, Das vierte
Buch Mose, , allocates the narrative to the “Pentateuchredaktor.”
50 See Achenbach, Vollendung, . The parallels to Num :– are mostly structural,

so rightly Aurelius, Fürbitter, –, and Schmidt, Das vierte Buch Mose, –.
51 I cannot follow Achenbach, that Num :– is related to Exod :– and Exod

:– as “ein Gegenstück zur Murr- und Wandererählung am Beginn des Wüstenzuges”
(Vollendung, ).
52 Recently Seebass offered resistance and deployed the Yehowist again in vv. b, a*,

b, aß–, ; see Seebass, Numeri, –, cf. Budd, Numbers, , with reference to
A. Dillmann, J. Wellhausen, and A. Kuenen: “There is general acceptance of the view that
this passage belongs to JE.”
 christian frevel

Aus methodischen Gründen muß Einspruch erhoben werden gegen die

Begründung einer Quellenscheidung auf vereinzelte und unter sich weder
formal noch sachlich zusammenhängende Unebenheiten im Text; die Er-
fahrung lehrt, daß dadurch die Quellenscheidung zu einer Schraube ohne
Ende wird und sich zu unrecht selbst ad absurdum führt.53
We cannot discuss the problems of Num :– here in length, but
there are reasons for troubling oneself with source material, tradition
or at least oral history.54 The tradition was taken up by a late redaction
which aimed to clamp the murmuring stories with a last and new one.
The impeachment does not cease, but instead, the threat of the justified
wrath of Yhwh ceases. Instead of doubts there is confidence that God
will heal and preserve from death. The monotone pattern of murmuring
is replaced by repentance and trust in the intercession of the leader. As in
Numbers  and , the intercessional function of Moses is accentuated.
The wrath of Yhwh, which was justified, ceases durably—not because of a
vow like in Num :–a—but because of the penitential confession and
the intercession of the mediator Moses. The older tradition concerning
a snake plague (with or without the murmuring v. ?), which cannot be
reconstructed in detail, has been completely integrated into this text.55
How to locate this redaction? Deut : cannot provide an anchor,
even though the notice is one of the stimuli for our artistic work.56 Tak-
ing into account the recent debate on the redactional layers in Num-
bers, we have certain possibilities: () the so-called “Hexateuchredak-
tion” of Reinhard Achenbach, which is dated post-P and post-D in the
fifth century prior to the “Pentateuchredaktion” and described to the
point as “réécriture.” () If we follow the traditional older hypothesis, the
“Pentateuchredaktion” shapes the book of Numbers in combining pre-
P-material with the P-Source (in whatever extended stage). () The for-

53 Noth, “Num ,” –. Noth assumes a late formation with an E core in the
tradition history. In his commentary he wrote on Num :–: “Gleichwohl ist an eine
Aufspaltung des Stücks in verschiedene “Quellen” nicht zu denken, da die Erzählung
ohne Unebenheiten und Dubletten einfach und folgerichtig fortschreitet. . . . Da in der
Pentateucherzählung ganz überwiegend der Gottesname Jahwe gebraucht wird, liegt das
Auffallende in dem Vorkommen des Appellativums “Gott” in v. . Daher ist man geneigt,
dieses Vorkommen für ursprünglich zu halten und in der Verwendung des Gottesnamens
Jahwe eine sekundäre Angleichung an das im allgemeinen Übliche zu vermuten. Danach
wäre das Stück der Quelle E zuzuweisen” (Das vierte Buch Mose. Numeri, ).
54 See Seebass, Numeri, : “ . . . deutet eher auf eine Bearbeitung als auf späte

Entstehung.”
55 Whether there was a second tradition narrating the murmur of the people, is

uncertain.
56 See correctly Seebass, Numeri, .
 understanding the pentateuch 

merly exposed end-redaction of Numbers which constructs the whole

book within a Hexateuchal context. It is of course a case of “réécriture,”
while the older tradition cannot be located accurately. With caution, it
could be the last formative redaction of Numbers as well, which is orga-
nizing the material in transition. In that case we would have a signal that
the taking over of “older” material is not restricted to one redaction and
not to the time before the “Pentateuchredaktion.” In my view “the Penta-
teuch” is rather an issue of textual reference than a redactional separated
literary corpus.57 It seems important to emphasize that the emergence of
narrative traditions is not restricted to the early phase of Israel and can
be assumed to be contemporary to the redactional process.

. Numbers :– as Geographical

and Redactional Hodgepodge?

The next passage in Numbers , the itinerary of vv. –, reveals a
similar picture. It is full of unsolvable textual problems in the Masoretic
Text which cannot be discussed here.58 Its importance in the history of
research cannot be overestimated as Thomas Dozeman has shown in
Abschied vom Jahwisten.59 The source critical exegesis has always rightly
signed it a “hard nut to crack.” The main problem is that this passage
seems to be pivotal for the transition from wilderness to conquest and
that it is part of the geographical linkage between the spy story and the
Balaam story. However, it does not fit in with any of the sources.60 Again,
Martin Noth has marked the limits clearly:
Denn zu den sicheren Feststellungen gehört die, dass in Num.  mit
der einfachen Zerlegung des überlieferten Bestandes in die vor allem aus
Gen. und Ex. bekannten “Quellen” nicht durchzukommen ist, dass hier
vielmehr die redaktionelle Arbeit tiefer eingegriffen und spätere Ergänz-
ungen einen breiteren Raum eingenommen haben, als man gewöhnlich

57 See the tentative suggestion in C. Frevel, “Ein vielsagender Abschied: Exegetische

Blicke auf den Tod des Mose,” BZ  () –, esp. –.
58 See H. Seebass, “Edom und seine Umgehung nach Numeri XX–XXI: Zu Numeri

XXI –,” VT  () –, esp. –.

59 T.B. Dozeman, “Geography and Ideology in the Wilderness Journey from Kadesh

through the Transjordan,” in Abschied vom Jahwisten: Die Komposition des Hexateuch in
der jüngsten Diskussion (ed. J.C. Geertz; BZAW ; Berlin ), –.
60 Noth, “Num ,” –. It is not our concern to struggle with the continuation

of the pre-Priestly Pentateuch here, see for instance Schmidt, Das vierte Buch Mose, :
vv. b*, aα*.
 christian frevel

annimmt. Daraus musste sich notwendig eine Verkomplizierung des lite-

rarischen Tatbestandes ergeben, die es uns unmöglich macht, alle Einzel-
heiten des literarischen Werdegangs noch einwandfrei und sicher zu klä-
ren und uns zwingt, notgedrungen auch mit Wahrscheinlichkeiten und
Vermutungen zu arbeiten.

Or in one sentence: “Jede Quellenscheidung ist an diesem Stück verge-

bene Liebesmüh.”61
But let us have a look at the content: first we have in vv. – pieces of
an itinerary which mentions two stations from Num : (Oboth and
Iye-Abarim)62 and with the rivers Sered (Wādı̄ el-Hesā). and the Arnon
(Wādı̄ el-Mūğı̄b) two stations which are attested in Deuteronomy 
(Sered: Deut :–; Arnon: Deut :). Besides, we find three other sta-
tions in vv. b– which are not attested elsewhere (Mattanah, Nahaliel,
Bamoth).63 “Commentators and biblical cartographers have struggled
with Num :– for years on the mistaken assumption that it is sup-
posed to make geographical sense. But it simply does not.”64 The route
is not exact in geographical respect, or to say it with J.M. Miller boldly
though strictly to the point “a geographical hodgepodge.”65 Nonetheless
it describes the way to detour Edom.66 The way ends with three locations
which are all linked to the setting of the following stories of Balaam (see
above). The “valley in the field of Moab” is not mentioned in the Balaam
story—comparable to Bamoth Num :,  which associates Bamoth-
Baal in Num :—but it alludes to the region where the Baalam story
takes place. The last two (oddly enough divided by a syndetic waw) are
mentioned explicitly in the Balaam story in Num :.

61 Noth, “Num ,” .

62 See for example M. Noth, “Der Wallfahrtsweg zum Sinai (Num ),” PJ  ()
–; G.I. Davies, The Way of the Wilderness: A Geographical Study of the Wilderness
Itineraries in the Old Testament (SOTS ; Cambridge ); Miller, “Journey,” –.
63 The identifications cannot be discussed here. Zwickel suggests to identify Hirbet el-

Mudēyine with Mattanah (“Durchzug,” ), but there are reasons to follow Y.˘Aharoni
and A. Dearman (“The Location of Jahaz,” ZDPV  [] –), I. Finkelstein
(“Omride architecture,” ZDPV  [] –), and others in identifying Hirbet el-
Mudēyine with Jahaz. Cf. Seebass, “Edom,”  (locating it afterwards aberrantly˘at Hirbet
Rumēl). ˘
64 Miller, “Journey,” .
65 Ibid., .
66 For discussion see Dozeman, “Geography,” ; Seebass, “Edom,” –; idem,

Numeri, – (with some unconventional solutions); MacDonald, East, –;

Zwickel, “Durchzug,” , suggests an exact date for Numbers  in the th/th century
bc. The presupposition of this proposal (ibid., ), that Numbers  and Numbers 
represent two phases of writing down the same oral tradition, is not convincing.
 understanding the pentateuch 

Thus, the itinerary is divided into two parts (Num :–, b–
) which are formulated in different styles and for different purposes.
Between them, two short traditions are interwoven which are both linked
to the itinerary in some way. The first is introduced as a citation of the
úîçìî øôñ and links up to the Arnon complex (Num :–). It is
framed by the mention of the borders of Moab (áàåî ìåáâ Num :b,
b).67 Later on, the itinerary proceeds with one station introduced by
the unusual íùî and marked by the he-locale:68 Beer, which is the textual
anchor for the “song of the well” (Num :b, , a). The introduction
v. b resembles the song of the sea of Exod : very clearly. Thus,
passing the Arnon is marked as a parallel to the liberation by passing the
Red Sea. Again it is obvious, that Numbers  has an important function
as compositional hinge between “desert” and “land.”
The literary character of this piece is highly sophisticated and inter-
woven with Deuteronomy , Judges , and Numbers  on the one
hand and the Baalam story on the other. Its compilatory character is
widely accepted, following the basic study of Martin Noth from .69
But whose hand has formed the interplay between poetry and geog-
raphy? In Achenbach’s analysis the passage is debris-like and “nach-
endredaktionell” by only attributing v. –a to the “Hexateuchredak-
tion.”70 But beginning with íùî these verses cannot stand alone.71 Aside
from this less-than-ideal solution, it is not convincing, because it under-
estimates that this chapter is the main compositional link between the
wilderness journey and the beginning of the conquest. We see basically
the same tendency here: different material of various provenances, e.g.
Oboth and Iye-Abarim, two place names which have been borrowed
from a late compilatory text (Numbers ), old poetic material in the
two songs, partly invention in the itinerary, partly older material, partly
linkage to the Baalam story. In short, a highly networked coupler which
has the book of Numbers as a backbone.

67 E. Blum, Studien zur Komposition des Pentateuch (BZAW ; Berlin ), ,

points further to the connection between Num :– and Num :–.
68 Because of the he-locale äøàá should be read as place-name, contra Seebass, Numeri,

, .
69 See the history of research in Dozeman, “Geography,” (for M. Noth, –); Budd,

Numbers, –.
70 Achenbach, Vollendung, .
71 There is no connection to Num :a, which is the last itinerary fragment at-

tributed by Achenbach to HexRed, because according to Achenbach Num :– is

HexRed just like Num :– (Vollendung, –). The short itinerary deviation with
the noticed death of Aaron in Deut : is not comparable and cannot support his view.
 christian frevel

Again we can find a redactional layer, which is, on the one hand,
depending on relatively late Deuteronomistic and post-Deuteronomistic
traditions and, on the other hand, taking up old or at least older traditions
which do not fit the context completely. As in the preceding passages,
there are several links to the composition of Numbers. The blessing
becomes visible here as well. While in Num : the people lamented
that the lack of water and the plea was not fulfilled, now Yhwh gives
water spontaneously.72 After the station which is called øàá, “Beer,” the
aetiology says: íéî íäì äðúàå íòä­úà óñà äùîì äåäé øîà øùà øàáä àåä,
“that is the well of which Yhwh said to Moses, ‘Gather the people together,
and I will give them water’ ” (Num :). Yhwh is supplying Israel with
care, which is exceeding the needs to a durable preservation.

. Conclusions

The diachronic reflection on the synchronic structure and diachronical

relief of Numbers  has to come to an end. There would be much to
say about Sihon, the song of Heshbon and the spy story of Jazer, and I
am aware of the pitfalls in this part of Numbers  and of its relation
to Deuteronomy – and Judges . Overlooking the recent history of
research,73 the tendency seems to be the same. The transition area of
Numbers  contains partly, but undisputable, old(er) material which
was combined with redactional interest. The material is not integrated
entirely into the context, and tensions remain. Its origin is not traceable,
and there are by no means clear connections to traditional sources or
source material. Composition and redaction are mutually dependent on
each other. It is remarkable that it is even the transition area of composi-
tion between Num :–: and Num :–: where this technique
is apparent. The younger redactional layers have not only integrated nar-
ratives from different older or maybe contemporary traditions but they
also have had a very straight idea of the composition of the book of Num-
bers which was discussed above.

72 See Blum, Studien zur Komposition des Pentateuch, –: “Ja, wahrscheinlich

markiert sie . . . bewußt so etwas wie einen ungetrübten, heilvollen Abschluß der Zeit in
der Wüste.”
73 See Dozeman, “Geography,” esp. –; Blum, Studien zur Komposition des Pen-

tateuch, –; E. Otto, Das Deuteronomium im Pentateuch und Hexateuch (FAT ;
Tübingen ), –; Achenbach, Vollendung, –.
 understanding the pentateuch 

Arranging the material in an increasing axis of blessing, preservation,

and fulfillment of promise from Numbers  onwards, seems to be the
central issue of this redactional interest. The redactional impact is a clear
spatial structure of Numbers in a Hexateuchal perspective on the one
hand, and the inner organization of Numbers as a book in itself on the
other hand. It is obvious that the inner organization of Numbers is the
foreground and the Hexateuch the background. It is not a redaction
which “forms” the Hexateuch but it implies an existing Hexateuch. The
redactional material is older than the redaction itself, but very disparate.
In Numbers  we have to struggle with material which is apparently
not part of any older source (Yahwist or Yehowist). It uses names and
terminology that are on the one hand reflecting concrete geographical
circumstances, but that has—as already J.M. Miller suggested74—on the
other hand paradoxically no connection to our known (geo-)political
history in the time of our supposed redactions. Thus, in methodological
respect, it seems to me more appropriate to re-establish the capability
of oral tradition without trying harder to understand the edition and
all the more the composition of the Pentateuch. The assumption of oral
tradition does not necessarily imply a very old date. It has just to precede
the redaction which integrates it. However, this issue would require more
attention and further research.

74 Cf. Miller, “Journey,” .

 FROM JOSHUA TO SAMUEL:
SOME REMARKS ON THE ORIGIN
OF THE BOOK OF JUDGES*

Klaas Spronk

. Introduction

The basic problem or challenge a modern commentator on books such

as Joshua and Judges faces is that he/she has to take a deliberate stand
in the ongoing discussion on the Deuteronomistic history.1 We are no
longer in the enviable position of J. Alberto Soggin, who could write,
almost thirty years ago, in the preface of his commentary on the book
of Judges: “I think that the hypothesis of a Deuteronomistic redaction of
the ‘former prophets’ has now been established.”2 Today anyone stating
something like that can be accused of not keeping up with recent research
or of having a one-sided view ignoring many other exegetical positions.
The refinement of and alternatives to Martin Noth’s theory have in the
recent decades led to an “unsettling wide array of conflicting options that
encourage skepticism of past attempts to sort out discrete redactional
layers in the Dtr history.”3
It is tempting to conclude from this situation that the classic diachronic
approach finds itself here in a cul-de-sac and we can simply ignore its
arguments. However, one cannot easily flee into the assumption that the
book can be studied as one coherent unit. A survey of the field of syn-

* I am happy to be able to present this article as a token of gratitude and respect to

my esteemed teacher Ed Noort. Parts of this article have been read on the international
meetings of the SBL in Edinburgh (), Vienna (), and Auckland ().
1 For a survey on the history of research on the book of Judges and its reception

history, see: K. Spronk, “Het boek Richteren: Een overzicht van het recente onderzoek,”
ACEBT  () –; C. Houtman and K. Spronk, Ein Held des Glaubens? Rezeptions-
geschichtliche Studien zu den Simson-Erzählungen (CBET ; Leuven ); C. Houtman
and K. Spronk, Jefta und seine Tochter: Rezeptionsgeschichtliche Studien zu Richter, ,
– (Altes Testament und Moderne ; Münster ).
2 J.A. Soggin, Judges: A Commentary (OTL; London ), xi.
3 S.A. Meier, “Review of Raymond F. Person Jr., The Deuteronomic School: History,

Social Setting, and Literature,” JBL  () – at .

 klaas spronk

chronic studies leads to a similar disturbing list of contradicting results

with lots of recreated overall structures or assumed central themes.4 Also
with this approach the theories tend to get more complicated but less con-
vincing.
In this article I hope to show that it is possible to profit from the
arguments used in both the diachronic and the synchronic approach—
they are often the same though interpreted differently—in an attempt to
offer a plausible sketch of the origin of the book. There appear to be many
good reasons to assume that the book of Judges in its present form can
be explained as a bridge that was laid relatively late between the books of
Joshua and Samuel. This has also consequences for the interpretation of
the ending of the book of Joshua.

. The Problems of Judges 

In her recent monograph on Judges  Mareike Rake makes a new, impres-

sive effort to explain the inconsistencies, contradictions, and unexpected
repetitions the reader comes across in the transition from the book of
Joshua to the book of Judges.5 Most obvious are the different reports
about Jerusalem (taken by Judah according to Judg :, but left to the
Jebusites by Benjamin according to :) and the repeated mention of
Joshua’s death and burial (Josh :– and Judg :–). In the line
of among others Rudolph Smend, who supervised this doctoral thesis,
Rake assumes that we are dealing here with the result of many redactional
activities which can be unraveled by a precise literary analysis. She there-
fore starts with reconstructing the original text, which leaves about half
of the Masoretic text. Then she compares the text to the parallel passages
in the book of Joshua. She concludes that in some cases the texts in Joshua
are dependent upon those in Judges , although she admits that things
appear to be very complicated here: sometimes the dependence may also
be the other way around, whereas one also has to reckon with the possi-
bility that in a next stage the older text may have been edited on the basis
of the later text. Originally, the transition between the two books would

4 Cf. G. Andersson, The Book and Its Narratives: A Critical Examination of Some Syn-

chronic Studies of the Book of Judges (Örebro ). Cf. also the response by G. Wong,
“Narratives and Their Contexts: A Critique of Greger Andersson with Respect to Narra-
tive Autonomy,” SJOT  () –.
5 M. Rake, “Juda wird aufsteigen!”: Untersuchungen zum ersten Kapitel des Richter-

buches (BZAW ; Berlin ).

 some remarks on the origin of the book of judges 

have been from Josh : (Joshua releasing the people) to Judg :–
(about Joshua’s death). In a next phase :– (the episode of the mes-
senger of Yhwh at Bochim) would have been added.6 The duplication of
the report of Joshua’s death at the end of the book of Joshua is attributed
by Rake to a later redactor, whereas the present first chapter would have
received its place between these two moments in the redaction history.
The introduction in :aα (“It happened after the death of Joshua”) would
mark together with the inclusion of the death of Joshua in Josh :–
a final phase, in connection with the separation of the two books.7
The problem with this theory is that it appears to be easier to cut the
text into pieces than to reconstruct the process in which they reached
their present unity. Rake has to admit that there are more ways to bring
the pieces together, as could be derived already from the history of
research, for instance, from the fact that Erhard Blum using the same
method comes to different conclusions concerning the unraveling of this
“compositional knot.”8 The suggestion that the report of Joshua’s death
in Judg :– should be dated earlier than the version in Joshua  goes
against the outcomes of many other redaction-critical studies.9 It would
be convincing when the reconstructed redactional layers were clearly
coherent, but they are not. We have to imagine that at one stage Josh :
was followed by Judg : and that within six verses the reference to Joshua
releasing the people was repeated. Rake, who in her study is very strict
with regard to tensions in the text, is less critical in this case when she
simply states that this does not disturb the line of the story very much.10
Also the suggestion that in a later stage Josh : was followed by Judg
:aβ (“and the people asked Yhwh: who shall go up first?”), without the
reference to the death of Joshua, is not compelling.
Another problem is the relation between Judg :–: and the rest
of the book. Rake completely ignores the results of synchronic stud-
ies describing the many relations within the book as indications of its

6 Rake, “Juda,” .

7 Rake, “Juda,” –.
8 E. Blum, “Der kompositionelle Knoten am Übergang von Josua zu Richter: Ein Ent-

flechtungsvorschlag,” in Deuteronomy and Deuteronomic Literature: Festschrift C.H.W.

Brekelmans (ed. M. Vervenne and J. Lust; BEThL ; Leiden ), –.
9 Cf., amongst others, E. Noort, “Josua ,–, Richter ,– und das Josuagrab:

Gedanken zu einem Straßenbild,” in Biblische Welten: Festschrift für Martin Metzger zu

seinem . Geburtstag (ed. W. Zwickel; OBO ; Göttingen ), – at –;
H.N. Rösel, “Lässt sich eine nomistische Redaktion im Buch Josua feststellen?” ZAW 
() –.
10 Rake, “Juda,” : “stellt hier keine allzu große erzählerische Härte dar.”
 klaas spronk

inner coherence.11 Recently, Gregory Wong indicated the interaction

between the introduction (:–:), central section (:–:) and epi-
logue (:–:) of the book.12 He notes a number of clear thematic
links, such as the Jebusite threat (:; :–), oracular consulta-
tions (:; :), specific military action (:; :), weeping at Bethel
(:; :), arranged marriages (:; :–). Wong also points to the
shared dependence on the book of Joshua: allusions to the taking of Jeri-
cho and Ai (:–; :–), sending out spies (:), dealing with
potential transgressors (ch. ). Rake only discusses—in a footnote13—
the clear correspondence between : and :–. In both texts the peo-
ple ask who shall go up first and then God answers that it must be Judah.
She states that this reference to Judah in chapter  is inserted by a redac-
tor after chapter  had been added to the book. According to Rake, orig-
inally the tribe of Judah played no part in the stories of the judges. This
would be in line with the positive view on this tribe: it has nothing to do
with the following negative period in the history of Israel. The added first
chapter should be regarded then as a kind of bookmarker emphasizing
this difference between Judah and the other tribes.
Most interpreters of the book will share the idea of the positive view on
Judah in the book of Judges, but Rake’s arguments for restricting this to
the first chapter and to a later edition of the book are not convincing. It is
also possible to see this presentation of Judah as an element of a more
general, well considered way of arranging and editing existing stories
and traditions by one writer/editor, who had or gave himself the task to
connect the already existing books of Joshua and Samuel. This possibility
shall be worked out now.

. The Book of Judges as an Introduction to the Books of Samuel

There is a tendency among modern scholars to look at the Former

Prophets from a new angle: not—like Martin Noth—from the book
of Deuteronomy looking forward, but looking back from the book of

11 Good examples are the studies of B.G. Webb, The Book of Judges: An Integrated

Reading (JSOTSup ; Sheffield ) and Y. Amit, The Book of Judges: The Art of Editing
(BIS ; Leiden ).
12 G. Wong, Compositional Strategy of the Book of Judges: An Inductive, Rhetorical Study

(VTSup ; Leiden ).

13 Rake, “Juda,” – n. .
 some remarks on the origin of the book of judges 

Kings.14 According to A. Graeme Auld stories in the book of Judges

contain “pre-playing elements of the royal story.”15 The book of Judges
would have been written with the books of Samuel and Kings in mind.
Mark Brettler calls the judges “protokings.”16 On the literary level this
is clearly indicated by the repeated phrase “in these days there was no
king in Israel” (:; :; :). This is generally acknowledged as a pro-
monarchal refrain, using the horrible stories in the last chapters of the
book of Judges as arguments in favor of the appointment of a king with
the power to bring peace and justice.17 Next to this there are a number of
topographical correspondences between the books of Judges and Samuel.
The story of the outrage in Gibea foreshadows the controversy between
Saul and David, because it takes place in towns related to these future
kings. The travelers wrongly pass by the later city of David, Jebus (:–
, with the hardly accidental remark that this is Jerusalem), to get into
trouble in Gibea, the home town of Saul. To this can be added that in
: also Rama is mentioned. Within the story there is no clear reason
for this, so this also seems to have been meant to relate this story to
coming events, namely the appearance of Samuel, who was born there
( Sam :; :). The mentioning of Silo in :; :,  and 
has a counterpart in  Samuel , where it is mentioned as the place of
the temple. Within this framework it is also possible to assume that the
location Mizpa as the place of the gathering of the tribes for the battle

14 Cf. E. Würthwein, “Erwägungen zum sog. deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerk,”

in idem, Studien zum Deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerk (BZAW ; Berlin ),

–; A.G. Auld, “The Deuteronomists and the Former Prophets: Or What Makes the
Former Prophets Deuteronomistic,” in Those Elusive Deuteronomists: The Phenomenon
of Pan-Deuteronomism (ed. L.S. Schearing and S.L. McKenzie; JSOTSup ; Sheffield
), – (reprinted in A.G. Auld, Samuel at the Threshold: Selected Works [SOTS
Monographs; Ashgate ], –); R.G. Kratz, Die Komposition der erzählenden
Bücher des Alten Testaments: Grundwissen der Bibelkritik (Göttingen ), .
15 A.G. Auld, “The Deuteronomist between History and Theology,” in Congress Volume

Oslo  (ed. A. Lemaire and M. Sæbø; VTSup , Leiden ), – at ; cf. also
his “Samuel and Genesis: Some Questions of John Van Seter’s ‘Yahwist,’ ” in Rethinking the
Foundations: Essays in Honour of John Van Seters (ed. S.L. McKenzie et al.; BZAW ;
Berlin ), – (reprinted in Auld, Samuel, –), esp. –.
16 M.Z. Brettler, “The Book of Judges: Literature as Politics,” JBL  () –,

esp. . Cf. also P.J. van Midden, “A Hidden Message? Judges as Foreword to the Book
of Kings,” in Unless Some One Guide Me . . . Festschrift for Karel A. Deurloo (ed. J.W. Dyk
et al.; ACEBTSup ; Maastricht ), –.
17 Wong, Compositional Strategy, –, explains the refrain as a reference to the

divine king, Yhwh. He has to go a long way to prove his case, piling up a lot of circum-
stantial evidence, like a farfetched comparison with  Chron :, and is, therefore, hardly
convincing.
 klaas spronk

against the Benjaminites (:, ; :, , ) has something to do with

the fact that in the same place the Israelites guided by Samuel defeated
the Philistines ( Sam :–).
Next to these topographical correspondences it does not seem too
farfetched to see a relation between the extraordinary behavior of a man
cutting his dead wife into twelve pieces sending them to all the tribes of
Israel (Judg :) with Saul’s way of convoking the Israelites by sending
them the pieces of his oxen ( Sam :). As what is told of the man in
Judg  is the most uncommon, one may assume that it was modeled on
the story of Saul.
Another interesting correspondence between the books of Samuel and
the book of Judges is the use of the phrase íéäìàá ìàù. Within the stories
of Saul and David this way of asking the will of God can be regarded as a
“Leitmotiv.”18 The downfall of Saul is connected with it, as becomes clear
in the story of his attempt to make contact with the spirit of the dead
Samuel, when it is no longer possible for him to make contact with Yhwh
( Sam :, ). The rise to power of David on the other end is related
to his successful attempts to get divine advice. Good examples of this can
be found in  Sam :, , and especially  Sam : (David asks Yhwh:
“Shall I go up?”). The way it is described there has its closest parallel in the
Old Testament in the scene in Judg :–, where the oracle is also given
to people on their way.19 In the book of Judges the expression also returns
in the already mentioned repeated question asking God who shall go up
first (:; :). This too can be seen as an indication that the attested
deliberate references to the next book in the final chapters of Judges are
part of the overall design of the book. A closer look at the story of Samson
will confirm this.
There are many parallels between  Samuel  and Judges . Both
stories begin with presenting the problem of a woman having no children
and introduce her husband with exactly the same words: “And there
was a certain man of Zorah, of the family of the Danites, and his name
was Manoah” (Judg :); “And there was a certain man of Ramathaim-
Zophim, of the hill-country of Ephraim, and his name was Elkanah”
( Sam :). The introduction of a story with ïî ãçà ùéà éäéå may seem to
be very common, but it is not. Within the Old Testament we only find it
in precisely these two places.20 In both stories the woman eventually gives

18 H.-F. Fuhs, “ìàù šā"al,” TWAT :– at .

19 Fuhs, TWAT :.
20 It is used without ãçà also in Gen :; Judg :; :;  Sam :;  Sam :;
 some remarks on the origin of the book of judges 

birth to a son who was promised by God under the condition of keeping
to a number of prescriptions. In Judges  the messenger of Yhwh gives
them to the unnamed woman: she is not allowed to drink wine or strong
drink or eat something unclean and no razor shall come upon the head
of her son, because he shall be a Nazirite for life. In  Sam : Hannah
makes a vow herself: “I will give him unto Yhwh all the days of his life, and
there shall no razor come upon his head.” After that, she has to declare
to the priest misunderstanding her behavior that she had not drunk too
much strong drink.
The best way to explain these parallels is that the author of the story
of Samson was familiar with the story of the birth of Samuel.21 The
correspondences in form and content can hardly be coincidental or
ascribed to a common pattern of miraculous birth stories. Compared to
each other a number of elements seem to have been added in Judges ,
making the story more miraculous with a messenger of Yhwh taking the
place of the priest. The element of non drinking is also more natural in
the story of Hannah. Naming the son a Nazirite can also be regarded as
a later, exaggerating and in fact an incorrect interpretation of the given
prescriptions. The motive for relating Samson to Samuel can be found
in the words of the messenger of Yhwh: “the child shall be a Nazirite of
God from the womb. And he shall begin to deliver Israel out of the hand
of the Philistines” (Judg :). When the woman repeats these words
to her husband she changes the reference of the deliverance from the
Philistines to a reference to Samson’s death: “the child shall be a Nazirite
of God from the womb to the day of his death” (:). This can be seen as
references to the later battles against the Philistines by Samuel, Saul and
David. During his lifetime Samson was not able to defeat these enemies. It
was only under the reign of King David that the Philistines were defeated
definitively.
All this can be interpreted as indicating that in its present form the
stories about Samson were meant as an introduction to the history as
recounted in the books of Samuel. Once the reader is put on this track he

and  Chron :. See on the discussion about the repetition of this expression as an
argument in redaction critical studies M. Leuchter, “ ‘Now There Was a [Certain] Man’:
Compositional Chronology in Judges— Samuel,” CBQ  () –. He lists  Sam
: among the texts using the expression with ãçà without indicating that this is found
in only a minority of manuscripts. It is most likely that in these manuscripts the Hebrew
text was adapted to  Sam :.
21 Cf. R. Bartelmus, Heroentum in Israel und seiner Umwelt (AThANT ; Zürich

), –.
 klaas spronk

may notice more common elements: Samson being driven by the spirit of
Yhwh like king Saul, Samson inventing unsolvable riddles and in this way
showing to be wise like Salomon, Samson getting involved with foreign
women, which reminds of the risky marriage policy of king Salomon and
of king Ahab, Samson bound and blinded like the last king of Judah,
Zedekiah. All these possible associations turn this at first sight rather
banal stories about a violent hero into an ominous parable.
The relation with the books of Samuel is a common element of Judges
– and –. Next to this one can note the inner cohesion of these
chapters.22 The chapters  and  are connected by the reference to
the tribe of Dan, indicated only here in : and :, ,  (next to
 Chron :) as éðãä. What catches the eye is also that the number of
eleven hundred silver peaces Delilah received from the Philistine lords is
the same as the amount of stolen money mentioned in the beginning of
chapter . We may also note the use of the verb ììç Hiphil, “to begin,”
both in :, ; :, ; and in :, , ; and the use of the verb
áøà “lie in ambush” in :, , ; and in :, , , ; :. The
writer/redactor who combined these stories as an introduction to the
history of Samuel and the kings also left some traces of his work when
he used the already mentioned simple, but within the Old Testament
uncommon phrase ùéà éäéå not only in : but also in : and :.23
With regard to the tendency to put Judah as the tribe of the coming
David in a positive light there is also a clear connection with chapter .
Judah is doing better than the other tribes in capturing the land and
driving away the Canaanites. Instructed by God Judah goes first (:–;
cf. :), just like David after the death of Saul ( Sam :; cf. also :,
).24 Now the question comes up whether also a connection was made
in the beginning of the book of Judges to the preceding book of Joshua
and, if so, in a similar way as it is done at the end of the book with the
books of Samuel.

22 Cf. A.G. van Daalen, Simson: Een onderzoek naar de plaats, de opbouw en de funktie

van het Simsonverhaal in het kader van de Oudtestamentische geschiedschrijving (SSN ;

Assen ), –.
23 Leuchter, “Now There Was,” , states that the usage of this formula “represents

a complex degree of intertextual and metatextual dynamics over a period of several

centuries,” but this cannot be based convincingly on the repetition of these words alone.
24 See on the relation between these verses also Rake, “Juda,” .
 some remarks on the origin of the book of judges 

. The Book of Judges as a Sequel to the Book of Joshua

There can be no doubt about it that in the present form the book of
Judges is presented as a sequel to the book of Joshua. Just like the book
of Joshua it starts with the reference of the death of the primary figure
in the preceding book: “It happened after the death of Joshua/Moses.”
According to the common opinion the first chapter of the book of Judges
offers a very different picture of the conquest of the promised land
compared to what one reads in the book of Joshua. Many attribute, in
the line of Albrecht Alt, a greater historic value to it as a more original
and reliable account of what happened in the confrontation between
Israelites and Canaanites than the version we find in the book of Joshua.
The differences between the books, however, are small when one takes
into account that for a considerable part Judges  repeats the book of
Joshua. The quotations contain positive information about Judah, taken
from Josh :– (cf. Judg :), – (cf. Judg :–), and negative
information about the other tribes, taken from Josh : (cf. Judg :
with the Benjaminites instead of the Judahites), : (cf. Judg :),
and :– (cf. Judg :–). To this is added new information,
distributed in a similar way and therefore deepening the dichotomy:
positive about Judah and negative about the other tribes.
In most cases it is likely that in the noted parallels Judges is dependent
on Joshua.25 Precisely where Judges  differs from Joshua, it concerns the
obvious attempt to put Judah in a more favorable light than it appears in
the book of Joshua. This is what has happened in :, where compared
to the parallel in Josh : the name of the Judahites is replaced by
the name of the Benjaminites as the ones who must be blamed for
not driving out the Jebusites from Jerusalem.26 In : it is told that the
Judahites conquered Jerusalem. Because there is no reference in : of
the Jebusites, we can assume that in the eyes of the author it does not
contradict :. Conquering and burning a city is one thing, definitively
driving away the inhabitants is something else. The same distinction is
made in the verses –: Judah subdued Gazah, Ashkelon, and Ekron,
but at the same time it is remarked that it was not able to supplant the
inhabitants of the Philistine coast, which is nothing else than the region

25 Cf. K.L. Younger, Jr., “The Configuring of Judicial Preliminaries: Judges .–. and

its Dependence of the Book of Joshua,” JSOT  () –.

26 Cf. J.C. de Vos, Das Los Judas: Über Entstehung und Ziele der Landbeschreibung in

Josua  (VTSup ; Leiden ), –.

 klaas spronk

of the mentioned cities.27 What is more important, however, that in this

way, by the combination of : and :, not only the negative picture
of Judah in Josh : could be corrected, it also left room for the later
report of David taking the city of Jerusalem and making it his capital
( Sam :–). Note that in the story of David the Jebusites are explicitly
mentioned: “the king and his men went to Jerusalem unto the Jebusites,
the inhabitants of the land.”28 The way in which the source text of Joshua
is handled here and the way the connection is made to the book of
Samuel can be regarded as typical for the motives and methods of the
writer/redactor of the book of Judges. It also corroborates the suggestion
that the book of Judges is related to the book of Joshua in the same way
as it appears to be related to the books of Samuel.
The story of the messenger of Yhwh in Bochim (:–) can (or per-
haps: should) be read in relation to the book of Joshua as well. The con-
nection is made by the reference to a common place name, so in the same
way as Judges is related to Samuel. Apparently it is part of the style of the
writer/redactor. In this case he used the name of Gilgal. This reminds of
the passing through the river Jordan and the twelve stones placed there as
a memory of what Yhwh had done for his people (Josh :–). When
the messenger is said to have come from Gilgal this is more than topo-
graphical information. The place name Bochim is related to the weep-
ing (äëá) of the Israelites. It also points forward to other moments of
weeping in the book of Judges (:; :; :, ; :), as a refrain
emphasizing the sadness of all these stories of disobedience to God and its
consequences. Even more interesting is the possible relation with Josiah’s
weeping according to  Kgs :.29 The parallel is strengthened by the
fact that Josiah is reminded here, just as the people of Israel in Judg , of
the broken covenant. Josiah acts correctly here, proving himself to be one
of the few kings “walking in all the way of his father David” ( Kgs :).
The story of the messenger in Bochim is followed by the reports of
Joshua releasing the people, of the people serving Yhwh during the life
of Joshua, of Joshua’s death, and finally of the next generation forgetting
Yhwh (:–). Read together it reminds not only of Joshua’s death as
described in Josh , but also of the preceding discussion between Joshua

27 Cf. B. Halpern, The First Historians: The Hebrew Bible and History (San Francisco

), .
28 See on the relation between these texts also Rake, “Juda,” –.
29 Cf. K. Spronk, “A Story to Weep about: Some Remarks on Judges :– and Its

Context,” in Unless Some One Guide me, –.

 some remarks on the origin of the book of judges 

and the people.30 Like the messenger of Yhwh, Joshua had referred to
Yhwh’s acts on behalf of his people in the past and to Israel’s obligations
within the covenant with Yhwh. The resolute answer of the people in
Josh : is in glaring contrast with the outcome as established in Judg
:. They have not acted according to their solemn words. The repetition
of the report of Joshua releasing the people and of Joshua’s death and
burial, already described in Josh :–, should be seen within the
framework of the changing reactions of the people. In Josh : the
positive attitude of the people is mentioned after the death of Joshua,
in Judg : it is mentioned before the death of Joshua, whereas after his
death the covenant is soon forgotten. So the emphasis is on the reaction of
the people, which indicates that the repetition of the verses from Joshua
 is deliberate and functional. The repeated reference to the death of
Joshua and of his generation also mirrors the repeated remark in the
final chapters of the book of Judges about the absence of a king. Israel is
missing its leader. Joshua is dead and his successor is not yet in sight. The
initiative of Judah—mentioned in chapter , before the remembrance of
Joshua’s death—was promising, but we have to wait for David until the
promise is fulfilled.
Finally, there is a remarkable correspondence between the way the
beginning of the book of Judges is related here to the book of Joshua and
the way this was done at the end to the books of Samuel. As was noted
above the function of the priest in the story of the birth of Samuel was
taken over by the messenger of Yhwh in the announcement of the birth
of Samson. In a similar way the role of Joshua in the story of the making
of the covenant in Joshua  is now also played in the story about the
broken covenant in Judges  by a messenger of Yhwh. The writer/editor
of the book of Judges shows an inclination towards the supernatural.

. The Book of Judges as a Late

Construct within the Former Prophets

Gradually the picture is taking shape of Judges as a book reacting to both

the books of Joshua and Samuel from a pro-Judah/David perspective. It
shows much coherence in message and style. In its present form it seems

30 Cf. Halpern, The First Historians, , and A. van der Kooij, “ ‘And I Also Said’: A

New Interpretation of Judges II ,” VT  () –, esp. –, for the opinion
that Judg :–: is a coherent introduction to the era of the judges.
 klaas spronk

to be relatively late, at least being written after Joshua and Samuel. It

is nowadays commonly assumed that Judges  and Judges – were
added in a late phase, coinciding with the separation of the story of
ancient Israel into different books.31 With regard to the origin and editing
of the many stories in between there is much difference of opinion. There
is no room here to enter into this discussion. What can be remarked is
that the analysis thus far indicates that :– and the chapters – are
closely related to this framework.
Thomas Römer considers both – and – as post-Deuterono-
mistic pieces.32 He points to the possible Hellenistic influences that can
be traced not only in the Samson stories,33 but also in the fable of Jotham
(:–)34 and the story about the sacrifice of Jephthah’s daughter (:–
).35 For Römer this is reason to assume that we are dealing there
with “late interpolations.” There are good reasons to go one step further.
Parallels with Greek texts and ideas have also been found with regard to
cutting off the prisoner’s thumbs (:),36 the names of Sisera and Jael (:,
),37 the three hundred soldiers of Gideon’s army (:),38 and the story
about the rape of the virgins (:–).39 It is striking that these parallels
are found throughout the book: in the stories about the judges and also
in the prologue and epilogue.

31 Cf. Kratz, Die Komposition der erzählenden Bücher, .

32 T. Römer, The So-Called Deuteronomistic History: A Sociological, Historical and
Literary Introduction (London ), .
33 Cf. C. Nauerth, “Simsons Taten: Motivgeschichtliche Überlegungen,” DBAT 

() –.
34 Römer refers to “a stunning parallel” found by C. Briffard, “Gammes sur l’acte de

traduire,” Foi et Vie  () –. It is more likely, however, that we are dealing here
with the work of a Jewish or Christian editor of the fables of Aesopus. Especially the
unexpected reference to the cedars of the Libanon points in this direction. This would
also not be the only example of fables from other times and places being attributed to
Aesopus (cf. J.F. Priest, “The Dog in the Manger: In Quest of a Fable,” The Classical
Journal  [] –). A relation to, for instance, Aesopus’ fables about the fir-tree
and the bramble, or the pomegranate, apple-tree and the bramble about who is the best,
is certainly possible here, but it cannot be based on the text quoted by Briffard.
35 Cf. also T. Römer, “Why Would the Deuteronomists Tell about the Sacrifice of

Jephthah’s Daughter?,” JSOT  () –; B. Becking, “Iphigeneia in Gilead: Over

het verstaan van Richteren ,” Kerk en Theologie  () –.
36 Cf. G.F. Moore, Judges (ICC; Edinburgh ), .
37 B.-J. Diebner, “Wann sang Deborah ihr Lied? Überlegungen zu zwei der ältesten

Texte des TNK (Ri  und ),” ACEBT  () –.

38 Cf. J.P. Brown, Israel and Hellas (BZAW ; Berlin ) :.
39 Cf. Soggin, Judges, .
 some remarks on the origin of the book of judges 

This is an extra reason to assume that the book of Judges in its present
form is the product of one writer/editor who filled in the gap between
the books of Samuel and Joshua. He reused and reinterpreted material
from Joshua and the book of Samuel and combined it with texts from
other sources. Traces of these sources, which can be regarded as early
versions of the book of Judges, are found in  Sam :– (in a retrospect
beginning with Jacob and ending with Samuel, referring to the struggle
against the Philistines but not mentioning Samson) and the ancient
Greek translation of Josh : (suggesting a transition from the end
of the book directly to the story of Ehud).40 The use of so many and so
different sources led to a book which looks at first sight like a hotchpotch.
A closer look, however, reveals a clear line running from Joshua to David,
the honored king from the tribe of Judah. We also find it summarized in
 Chron : (“Judah became more powerful than his brothers and a leader
came from him”).41
We can only speculate about the identity of the author and his time.
One thing that can be said on the basis of the conclusions of this study
is that they correspond nicely with the picture sketched by Karel van
der Toorn about the Hebrew Bible as a product of the scribal culture.42
He makes a comparison with scribal activities like that of Berossus in
Babylon and Manetho in Egypt as an effort to publish and preserve a
national literature. Somewhere in the early Hellenistic age Jewish scribes
collected and edited the prophetic and poetic texts and published them
as rounded off, authoritative text as the legacy of inspired men like David
and Isaiah. They also wished to offer an authoritative version of the
history of Israel, from the creation until restoration after the Babylonian
exile. In this process, the book of Judges could very well have been their
final masterpiece.

40 Cf. A. Rofé, “The End of the Book of Joshua According to the Septuagint,” Henoch

 () –; and the discussion by H.N. Rösel, “Die Überleitungen vom Josua—ins
Richterbuch,” VT  () –, esp. –; and M.N. van der Meer, Formation
& Reformulation: The Redaction of the Book of Joshua in the Light of the Oldest Textual
Witness (VTSup ; Leiden ), –.
41 Cf. M.Z. Brettler, The Book of Judges (London ), .
42 K. van der Toorn, Scribal Culture and the Making of the Hebrew Bible (Cambridge

), .
 JUDGES 5 RECONSIDERED:
WHICH TRIBES? WHAT LAND? WHOSE SONG?*

Raymond de Hoop

. Introduction

Probably the most famous problem with regard to the settlement and the
twelve-tribe system is the list of ten names of those who did and those
who did not take part in the battle against Sisera and his allies (Judg
:–). The wording of the so-called Song of Deborah suggests that
the ten names listed involve the whole of Israel. Does this imply that
at an earlier stage of its history, Israel consisted of ten tribes only and
consequently that the system of twelve tribes originated in a later phase
of its history?1 A lot of ink has been spent on this list, relating this number
of ten (supposed) tribes to Martin Noth’s amphictyony hypothesis.2 Noth
himself dismissed the song as irrelevant for the discussion of the twelve-
tribe system because the names were only added subjectively by the
poet in contrast to the two tribes Zebulun and Naphtali in Judg :–
.3 Attempts have nevertheless been made to bring the number of ten in
line with this amphictyony as a former stage of it,4 but since the number

* It is an honour for me to dedicate this essay to Ed Noort, whose research and

teaching are so strongly focussed on the land. Research for this paper has been carried
out as a research-fellow of the University of Pretoria, South Africa. Thanks are due to Dr.
Wilfred G.E. Watson, who was kind enough to correct the English of this paper.
1 Generally it is assumed that because the majority of names are tribal names (the

names of Jacob’s sons), the remaining names are substitutes for the other known tribes.
Gilead, for example, is considered in that case to be a substitute for the tribe of Gad, cf., e.g.
A. Caquot, “Les tribus d’Israël dans le cantique de Débora,” Sem  () –, . See
also C.H.J. de Geus, The Tribes of Israel: An Investigation into Some of the Presuppositions of
Martin Noth’s Amphictyony Hypothesis (SSN ; Assen ), , who states that Gilead
is used as a tribal name in Judges  even when it is clearly a geographical designation. On
this discussion, see furthermore R. de Vaux, The Early History of Israel (London ),
–.
2 For this theory see especially: M. Noth, Das System der Zwölf Stämme Israels

(BWANT .; Stuttgart ).

3 Noth, System, –, –; idem, Geschichte Israels (d ed.; Göttingen ),  n. .
4 Cf. S. Mowinckel, “ ‘Rahelstämme’ und ‘Leastämme,’ ” in Von Ugarit nach Qum-
 raymond de hoop

twelve (or six) is an essential part of the amphictyony, these attempts have
proved to be unsuccessful.5 Despite the fact that some scholars assume
the song to be the product of an editorial process,6 the number of ten
names has scarcely been questioned in recent research.7 Yet it should be
stressed that the song does not deal with ten parties (or tribes or whatever
these names may designate) that should have joined the battle, but with
eleven: we also have to reckon with Meroz (:), for there is no indication
that it designates a different entity from the ten listed in :–. There is
a peculiar discrepancy between the mild rebuke of four parties in this list
of ten and the vehement cursing of Meroz because of the same offence,
apparently. This discrepancy is hardly dealt with by scholars or even
ignored. In this essay, I wish to deal with this discrepancy as a means
to investigate whether all ten names originally belonged to the song. I
am also trying to determine whether these names are real tribal names
or whether we are sometimes dealing with references to the land.8
Apparently unrelated to this matter is the question as to who com-
posed this song: was it indeed Deborah as the text will have us to believe,
or should we have our doubts about the poet and reckon with a later
ascription to her? Both matters will prove to have a strong impact on our
appreciation of the genesis of the song and the list of ten names. Even
though Judges – apparently did not play a very important role in the

ran: Beiträge zur alttestamentlichen und altorientalischen Forschung (ed. J. Hempel and
L. Rost; BZAW ; Berlin ), –, esp. ; A. Weiser “Das Deboralied: Eine
gattungs-und traditionsgeschichtliche Studie,” ZAW  () –, esp. , –; K.-
D. Schunck, Benjamin: Untersuchungen zur Entstehung und Geschichte eines Israelitischen
Stammes (BZAW ; Berlin ), .
5 De Geus, Tribes, –.
6 M.Z. Brettler, The Book of Judges (OTR; London ), ; G.T.K. Wong, “Song

of Deborah as Polemic,” Bib  () –, ; E.A. Knauf, “Meroz (Judg. :),” in In
Search of Philip R. Davies: Whose Festschrift Is It Anyway? (ed. D. Burns and J.W. Rogerson;
LHB/OTS; Sheffield ); many scholars refrain however from attempts to differentiate
between possible layers in the text.
7 Caquot, “Cantique de Débora,” – (two tribes); N. Na"aman, “Literary and

Topographical Notes on the Battle of Kishon (Judges IV–V),” VT  () –

(two); P. Guillaume, “Deborah and the Seven Tribes,” BN  () – (seven);
E.A. Knauf, “Deborah’s Language: Judges Ch.  in Its Hebrew and Semitic Context,”
in Studia Semitica et Semitohamitica: FS Rainer Voigt (ed. B. Burtea et al.; AOAT ;
Münster ), –, at  n.  (seven [although some differ from Guillaume’s set]).
In the opposite direction: J.C. de Moor, “The Twelve Tribes in the Song of Deborah,” VT
 () – (twelve).
8 Cf. already R. de Hoop, Genesis  in Its Literary and Historical Context (OTS ;

Leiden ),  with n. .

 judges  reconsidered 

research on the book of Joshua,9 it has a crucial role in the debate on

Israel’s settlement of the land.

. The Context of the Song

According to Noth, the Deuteronomist (Dtr) used, alongside a list of the

minor judges, some heroic legends to create the section on the era of
the judges in his Deuteronomistic History (DtrH) (Judg :–:).10 He
considered the Deborah-Barak story together with the song (Judges –
) to be a unit, which Dtr inserted into his History, adding only :a,
, a, and :.11 Noth’s theory was modified by Richter, who assumed
the existence of a “Saviour Collection” (Retterbuch), which after several
modifications was inserted into the DtrH.12 The song was not a part of
this collection but inserted after the redaction of Dtr, though a specific
date is missing.13 According to Richter, Dtr added also the Samson

9 According to the index in E. Noort, Das Buch Josua: Forschungsgeschichte und

Problemfelder (EdF ; Darmstadt ), –.

10 M. Noth, Überlieferungsgeschichtliche Studien: Die sammelnden und bearbeitenden

Geschichtswerke im Alten Testament (d ed.; Tübingen ), –. Judges – (Sam-
son); – (Micha and Dan); – (Gibeah) were added later and did not belong to
the original DtrH; see ibid.,  n. , . For DtrH and Judges in recent research, cf.
M.A. O’Brien, “Judges and the Deuteronomistic History,” in The History of Israel’s Tra-
ditions: The Heritage of Martin Noth (ed. S.L. McKenzie and M.P. Graham; JSOTSup ;
Sheffield ), –; see also T. Römer and A. de Pury, “Deuteronomistic Histori-
ography (DH): History of Research and Debated Issues,” in Israel Constructs Its History:
Deuteronomistic Historiography in Recent Research (ed. A. de Pury et al.; JSOTSup ;
Sheffield ), –.
11 Noth, Überlieferungsgeschichtliche Studien, –. The analysis by scholars critical

of DtrH does not differ considerably in respect of Judges; see, e.g. G. Fohrer, Einleitung in
das Alte Testament (th ed.; Heidelberg ), –; and recently E.A. Knauf, “Does
‘Deuteronomistic Historiography’ (DtrH) Exist?” in De Pury et al., Israel Constructs Its
History, –, esp. .
12 W. Richter, Traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zum Richterbuch (BBB ;

Bonn, ); idem, Die Bearbeitung des ‘Retterbuches’ in der deuteronomistischen Epoche
(BBB ; Bonn, ). The original work was not available to me; information is based
on J.A. Soggin, Judges: A Commentary (d ed.; OTL; London ), –; Römer and De
Pury, “Deuteronomistic Historiography,” –.
13 J.A. Soggin, Judges: A Commentary (d ed.; OTL; London ), –, who also fails

to specify when the song might have been inserted into its present position; Römer and
De Pury, “Deuteronomistic Historiography,” –. A view comparable to Richter’s
analysis (except regarding Dtr; cf. n.  above) is followed by Knauf, “Does ‘Deuterono-
mistic Historiography’ Exist?” ; Knauf, “Deborah’s Language,” –, who consid-
ers that the song was inserted in its present position during the fourth or third century
bce. Cf. also B. Lindars, Judges –: A New Translation and Commentary (Edinburgh
), .
 raymond de hoop

story “in order to demonstrate . . . that the institution of the Judges

has to disappear because of the decadence into which it had eventually
sunk.”14
This final element of deterioration has become characteristic for
Judges when it is read synchronically.15 The book pictures an era in which
it becomes gradually obvious that the institution of judges should disap-
pear and a king is needed. Notably, the first judge Othniel comes from
Judah: he is a strong figure and an ideal judge. The remaining part of
the book has its geographical horizon largely outside Judah, especially
where it concerns the decline of Israelite society.16 Gradually the judges
become less strong and ideal, with Samson as rock bottom, until the sit-
uation deteriorates further to its final breakdown in Judges –.17 The
Deborah-Barak story fits into this picture, since the male leader (Barak)
needs a woman at his side (Deborah; :), while the victory is by the
hand of a woman (Ja#el; note Deborah’s remark in Judg :).18 With this

14 Römer and De Pury, “Deuteronomistic Historiography,” .

15 Cf. also O’Brien, “Judges,” –; Brettler, Judges, –.
16 See, e.g. Römer and De Pury, “Deuteronomistic Historiography,” –, stating

that Judges – have the northern kingdom as their horizon and might have originated
and functioned there as a kind of Retterbuch. To this we add the observation that Judges
– (and chapters –) have their geographical horizon outside Judah, especially
where it concerns the deterioration of Israel’s society (Samson, the èôù from the tribe of
Dan [compare Richter’s observation on Samson]; the sanctuary at Dan in the north; the
outrage at Gibeah).
17 Cf., e.g. J.C. Exum, “The Centre Cannot Hold: Thematic and Textual Instabil-

ities in Judges,” CBQ  () –, esp. –,  (repr. in Reconsidering
Israel and Judah: Recent Studies on the Deuteronomistic History [ed. G.N. Knoppers
and J.G. McConville; SBTS ; Winona Lake ], –, –, –); R.H.
O’Connell, The Rhetoric of the Book of Judges (VTSup ; Leiden ), –, –
; Y. Amit, The Book of Judges: The Art of Editing (BIS ; Leiden ), –;
W. Dietrich, “History and Law: Deuteronomistic Historiography and Deuteronomic Law
Exemplified in the Passage from the Period of the Judges to the Monarchic Period,” in De
Pury et al., Israel Constructs Its History, –, –, . Some criticism is found
in G. Andersen, “A Narratologist’s Critical Reflections on Synchronic Studies of the Bible:
A Response to G.T.K. Wong,” SJOT  () –. In fact, the deterioration does not
stop at the end of the book of Judges, but continues until  Samuel , where we meet the
first king: King Saul; see Dietrich, “History and Law,” –. Perhaps we should add to
this observation that the real èôù (who becomes a king) is met in  Samuel , where Saul
rescues Jabesh in Gilead; cf. D. Edelman, “Saul’s Rescue of Jabesh-Gilead ( Sam :–):
Sorting Story from History,” ZAW  () –, esp. , –. Was this chap-
ter perhaps a final account of the “book of Saviours,” which circled in northern circles,
before it was edited in a pro-Judaean fashion (cf. n.  above)?
18 Lindars, Judges –, , –.
 judges  reconsidered 

pattern of deterioration of society in the north in mind, the conclusion

that Judges as a whole has an anti-northern bias seems inevitable.19

. Deborah’s Song?

Even though a pattern in Judges can be discerned on a synchronic level,

this does not imply that the book is the product of one single writer. The
diverse material gathered in the book is obviously not a unity20 and even
Judges – are not the product of one single author.21 The preceding prose
text, places the song in a literary context in which it according to the
communis opinio originally did not belong, and now forces a different
impression upon the reader from before.22 Deborah is introduced as a
prophetess, who judges under the palm tree between Beth-El and Ramah
in the hill-country of Ephraim (:–). Scholars noted that Deborah
appears to be identified with someone with a homonymous name, who
was buried “under Bethel under the large tree”23 (úçú ìà­úéáì úçúî
ïåìàä, Gen :) interpreting this identification as an interpolation by

19 Brettler, Judges, –. This view was questioned by G.T.K. Wong, “Is There a

Direct Pro-Judah Polemic in Judges?,” SJOT  () –; but his criticisms were
refuted by S. Frolov, “Fire, Smoke, and Judah in Judges: A Response to Gregory Wong,”
SJOT  () –.
20 Cf. Brettler, Judges, ; but also the literature cited above on DtrH and Judges.
21 B. Halpern, The First Historians: The Hebrew Bible and History (San Fransisco

), –; Na"aman, “Literary and Topographical Notes,” ; H.-D. Neef, “Deb-
oraerzählung und Deboralied: Beobachtungen zum Verhältnis von Jdc. iv und v,” VT
 () –. Contrast, however, Lindars, Judges –, –; C. Levin, “Das Alter
des Deboralieds,” in his Fortschreibungen: Gesammelte Studien zum Alten Testament
(BZAW ; Berlin ) –, esp. –. For a review of the current positions,
cf. K.L. Younger, “Heads! Tails! or the Whole Coin?! Contextual Method & Intertextual
Analysis: Judges  and ,” in The Biblical Canon in Comparative Perspective: Scripture in
Context IV(ed. K.L. Younger et al.; Lewiston, NY, ), –, esp. –.
22 A. Brenner, “A Triangle and a Rhombus in Narrative Structure: A Proposed Inte-

grative Reading of Judges iv and v,” VT  () –, esp. –.

23 Heb. ïåìà. “Het verbinden van de huidige vegetatie met de bijbelse namen is vaak

een hachelijke zaak” (E. Noort, Israël en de Westelijke Jordaanoever: Werkboek voor
Palestina-reizigers [Kampen ], : “To associate the current vegetation with the
biblical names is often a hazardous undertaking”). This is obvious from the “tree”, referred
to above. Heb.ïåìà is generally translated as oak, yet it depends on Masoretic vocalisation
whether we read “terebinth” (Gen :) or “oak” (Gen :); cf. Ges18, . Koehler
and Baumgartner refrained from identification (HALAT, ). M. Zohari, Pflanzen der
Bibel: Vollständiges Handbuch (d ed.; Stuttgart ), –, suggests rendering the
consonantal ïåìà by “oak” and äìà by “terebinth.”
 raymond de hoop

a later editor (later than Dtr).24 There is, however, no reason why this
identification should be a later addition: it fits in its context without
any problem. The only problem that occurs is an incorrect identification
and that is apparently considered unlikely for Dtr or any early editor.25
But, if a later editor could make this identification, then why not an
earlier narrator/editor, who knew an oak of Deborah and created his own
aetiology because the place in the land suited his purpose?26
The geography of the narrative is no coincidence, added accidentally
by a later editor. After two judges from Judah and Benjamin (Judg :,
), Deborah resides only just in the territory of Ephraim (between
Bethel and Ramah) as the southernmost extreme of the north, and in
the northernmost city Kedesh (Dan had not yet migrated to the north
in the book of Judges) Barak is met as the second extreme. The north
is embraced by these two extremes, who summon Israel to the battle,
which will take place between them.27 The geographical identification
has a narratological function, even when the course of events is unlikely
from a historical-geographical perspective.28 The reference to Barak,
for example, in Kedesh-Naphtali (:), which is identified with Kedesh
some seven miles north of Hazor, is considered problematic because this
location would have been too far from the scene of action (for that reason
other locations have been sought).29 This impression of unlikeliness is

24 Na"aman, “Literary and Topographical Notes,” ; Lindars, Judges –, .
25 Cf. esp. Na"aman, “Literary and Topographical Notes,” –.
26 Na"aman, “Literary and Topographical Notes,” , emphasized that environmental

features should not be taken for granted. The authors might have lived in exile, whereas we
also have to reckon with the work of editors, neither set familiar with the environment of
the story. Another factor, which Na"aman did not consider in his paper, is the possibility
that the geography is subordinated by the author to the (theological/political) purpose
of the narrative, even when a realistic relationship to the land did exist; cf. E. Noort,
“Klio und die Welt des Alten Testaments: Überlegungen zur Benutzung literarischer
und feldarchäologischer Quellen bei der Darstellung einer Geschichte Israels,” (inaugural
address University of Hamburg: ..), in “Ernten was man sät”: Festschrift für Klaus
Koch (ed. D.R. Daniels et al.; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), –.
27 This also explains why the (possibly original) narrative of the war with Jabin of

Hazor (Josh :–) was duplicated and described here a second time, yet in a different
setting. On these problems, cf. inter alii A. Malamat, History of Biblical Israel: Major
Problems and Minor Issues (CHANE ; Leiden ), –.
28 Cf. E. Noort, “The Traditions of Ebal and Gerizim: Theological Positions in the Book

of Joshua,” in Deuteronomy and Deuteronomic Literature: Fs. C.H.W. Brekelmans, (ed.

M. Vervenne and J. Lust; BETL ; Louvain ), –, : “Sometimes geography
loses out to politics and sometimes it loses out to theology.”
29 Lindars, Judges –, . Whereas historically and militarily this seems to be a

correct observation, within the narrative framework this appears to be the most likely
identification as the northernmost extreme (pace Lindars, op. cit., ; Y. Aharoni and
 judges  reconsidered 

strengthened by the fact that Hazor could hardly have played the role it
is assigned in the narrative, since it had been destroyed at the end of the
Late Bronze Age and scarcely settled during Iron Age I.30
These geographical and historical factors indicate that the story about
Deborah has been invented without the geographical basis of a “local
hero account.” Neither Deborah nor Barak has a likely home town, since
the candidates are too distant from each other and from the battlefield,
whereas the historical determinant (Hazor) is an anachronism. These
factors suggest that Deborah’s person is made up, created for the benefit
of the narrative as well as for the song. The latter statement is supported
by the fact that those parts in the song mentioning her name (and
Barak’s), disturb the line of thought of the poem (:b, , a). In :
the description of the desperate situation in the land is disturbed:

In the days of Shamgar Ben-#Anat úðò­ïá øâîù éîéá ( aA )

in the days of Ja#el, caravans ceased úåçøà åìãç ìòé éîéá ( aB )
And wayfarers, úåáéúð éëìäå (bA)
they went on roundabout paths, úåì÷ì÷ò úåçøà åëìé ( bB )
the peasantry ceased, in Israel it ceased åìãç ìàøùéá ïåæøô åìãç ( aA )
[until you arose, Deborah,] [äøåáã éúî÷ù ãò] (bA)
[you arose, a mother in Israel] [ìàøùéá íà éúî÷ù] ( bB )
When the gods choose new ones,31 íéùãç íéäìà øçáé ( aA )
then war was in the gates.32 íéøòù íçì æà ( aB )
If only a shield was seen, a spear çîøå äàøé­íà ïâî (bA)
among the forty thousand in Israel. ìàøùéá óìà íéòáøàá ( bB )

M. Avi-Yonah, The MacMillan Bible Atlas [d ed.; New York ], , , ). Kedesh
is closest to the territories of Zebulun and Naphtali, which according to the narrative
formed the main forces that defeated Sisera’s army and thus they are mustered by Barak.
30 Y. Yadin and A. Ben-Tor, “Hazor,” NEAEHL, :–; A. Ben-Tor, “Hazor,”

OEANE, :–.
31 The translation of this verse is complicated. In this colon (aA) I follow more or

less the proposal by P.C. Craigie, “Some Further Notes on the Song of Deborah,” VT 
() –, esp. –; Soggin, Judges, –; Lindars, Judges –, , –;
Knauf, “Deborah’s Language,” –. Another option is the classical translation “when
new gods were chosen,” which is found already in lxx, and furthermore in many modern
translations; cf. NBG; NBV; NRSV; JPS.
32 Some deviating translations for this colon are found as well. lxxA rendered the colon

as “like barley bread” (Knauf, “Deborah’s Language,” – almost similar), lxxB as
“then the cities of the rulers fought.” The latter interpretation recurs quite often, although
the text is considered to be problematic. Lindars, Judges –, –, offers an overview
of all proposals to reconstruct the text and his suggestion is to assume faulty division and
haplography of æà, and therefore to read íéøò ùîç åìæà æà “then the armed men of the
cities came forth.” However, the assumption of haplography of æà is not necessary for the
translation above as a likely alternative.
 raymond de hoop

The next text naming of Deborah (:, incl. Barak) interrupts the
flow of the text as well. This is obvious from the fact that some scholars
tend to take the preceding :bA as a later addition, which could be left
out.33 However, instead of regarding :bA as a later addition, we might
consider whether the later addition is :, which has in fact no other
function in the text than to link the song with Deborah (and Barak).34 The
text of : with its imperatives is a Fremdkörper between the perfects
of :b and . This is reinforced by the fact that the imperatives are
addressed to both Deborah and Barak, who do not have any further
significant role in the song itself.

With the sound of the water-dividers35 at íéáàùî ïéá íéööçî ìå÷î (aA)
the watering places
there they repeat the victories of Yhwh äåäé úå÷ãö åðúé íù (aB)
the victories of his peasantry in Israel. ìàøùéá åðæøô ú÷ãö (aC)
When the people of Yhwh went down to äåäé­íò íéøòùì åãøé æà (bA)
the gates,36
[Rouse yourself, rouse yourself, Deborah!] [äøåáã éøåò éøåò] (aA)
[Rouse yourself, rouse yourself, say a song!] [øéù­éøáã éøåò éøåò] (aB)
[Rise up, Barak, take hold of your captives, êéáù äáùå ÷øá íå÷] (aC)
son of Abinoam!] [íòðéáà­ïá

33 Cf. inter alii: Lindars, Judges –, , ; V. Fritz, Die Entstehung Israels im . und

. Jahrhundert v.Chr. (BEnz ; Stuttgart ), –; Levin, “Das Alter,” ; Knauf,
“Deborah’s Language,” – (Appendix).
34 J.P. Fokkelman, “The Song of Deborah and Barak: Its Prosodic Levels and Structure,”

in Pomegranates and Golden Bells: Studies in Biblical, Jewish, and Near Eastern Ritual, Law,
and Literature in Honor of J. Milgrom (ed. D.P. Wright et al.; Winona Lake ), –
, qualifies : as “embedded speech, spoken by the troops as an address to the two
leaders.” He reads :b– as one strophe and labels the enclosure of : an “envelope
structure” (similarly A. Globe, “The Muster of the Tribes in Judges :e–,” ZAW 
[] –, ; Caquot, “Cantique de Débora,” ; Wong, “Song of Deborah,” 
with n. ). The fact remains, however, that v.  is a Fremdkörper (cf. main text above),
which also on a poetic level is unrelated to its context.
35 Rendering íé!ö"öç"î as a ptc. Pi. of õöç “divide water,” cf. HALAT, ; Ges18, .
36 The reading “gates” provides a perfect parallel to the next colon (in our reconstruc-

tion), :aB, where “mighty” is read; a similar parallel is found in Ugarit, KTU .:
vv. –; cf. A. Caquot et al., Mythes et Légendes (vol.  of Textes Ougaritiques; LAPO ;
Paris ). ; J.C. de Moor, An Anthology of Religious Texts from Ugarit (NISABA ;
Leiden ), ; S.B. Parker, “Aqhat,” in Ugaritic Narrative Poetry (ed. S.B. Parker;
SBLWAW ; Atlanta, Ga, ), –, . Differently: N. Wyatt, Religious Texts from
Ugarit: The Words of Ilimilku and His Colleagues (BSem ; Sheffield), , reading
“trees” for Ug. "adrm.
 judges  reconsidered 

when the remnant37 went down to the mighty, íéøéãàì øéøù 39ãøé 38æà (aA)
the people of Yhwh got themselves40 [åì­ãøé] äåäé 42(!) íò (aB)
down like41 heroes. íéøåáâá 43åì­ãøé

It is questionable therefore that the song had anything to do with Deb-

orah, and the references to her (viz. :, , ) are probably later addi-
tions to the original song. In other words, the poem is only secondar-
ily called the “Song of Deborah”: originally it appears to be an ancient44

37 The rendering matches lxxB and is reflected in TgJ (cf. W.F. Smelik, The Targum of

Judges [OtSt ; Leiden ], –). Though ãéøù is considered to be problematic
by some scholars (as by some versions), it takes up the idea of :– that the people are
survivors of oppression (Lindars, Judges –, ). The singular can be interpreted as a
collective (e.g. Num :; cf. JM § c), which makes emendation of the text unnec-
essary; cf. Globe, “The Muster of the Tribes,”  n. ; pace BHS; De Moor, “Twelve
Tribes,” –; Knauf, “Deborah’s Language,” . The reading of a topographical name
(Na"aman, “Literary and Topographical Notes,” –, followed by Guillaume, “Deb-
orah and the Seven Tribes,” ) is unlikely, because it disturbs the parallelism (Knauf,
“Deborah’s Language,” –). A reference to the Serdanu (J.C. de Moor, The Rise of
Yahwism [BETL ; Louvain ], –, with n. ) does not match the parallelism
either; but in addition cf. the cautious remarks regarding the possible identification of the
Sea Peoples during that era in E. Noort, Die Seevölker in Palästina (PalAnt ; Kampen
), –.
38 It might be that this second æà was added as a kind of Wiederaufnahme after the

preceding verse had been inserted between this colon and the preceding one (:bA).
39 mt reads ãUé impf. Pi. äãø “to tread, rule,” which might be similar to the second

verb TgJ uses øáú “to break down”; cf. Smelik, Targum of Judges, –.
40 Interpreting åì as a dativus commodi, as suggested by Lindars, Judges –, ; cf.

GK § i; JM § d.
41 Reading the prep. á as a beth essentiae as suggested by Lindars, Judges –, ; cf.

GK § s; JM § c.
42 mt reads: “Then may he cause a remnant to have dominion over the nobles—the

people; Yhwh causes me to have dominion over the heroes” (Lindars, Judges –, ).
The translation above is supported by the preceding äåäé­íò (:bA) and its possible
occurrence in :B and B.
43 Regarding the consonants ãøé; see n.  above. With regard to the reading Çì instead

of mt é!ì, cf. in this vein already lxxB, supported by TgJ with äéîò íã÷ “before his people”
(Smelik, Targum of Judges,  with n. ).
44 Recently Knauf (“Deborah’s Language,” –) argued for a relatively early date

during the th century bce. Since linguistic dates may fluctuate somewhat, it appears
that his most certain historical anchor is the destruction of Megiddo during the th
century, which excludes this era because of its mention in :. Yet, the fact that Megiddo
itself is not mentioned, but “the waters of Megiddo” may indicate that Megiddo was laid
waste and thus refers to the th century. Thus, in my view, whether it is exactly the
th century or somewhat earlier is still open for discussion; the fact remains that we are
dealing with an ancient text.
 raymond de hoop

victory song by an anonymous poet after a victorious battle of an appar-

ently weakened group of people, the äåäé íò.45

. “Curse Meroz!”

The song contains an additional peculiarity, which is generally noticed

but not resolved, that raises serious questions regarding the coherence
of the song in its present form. Whereas those tribes that apparently
did not take part in the battle are only mildly rebuked, Meroz is cursed
vehemently because it did not come to the help of Yhwh along with the
mighty:46

“Curse Meroz” says [the messenger of] Yhwh, äåäé [êàìî] øîà æåøî åøåà (aA)
“curse its inhabitants vehemently, äéáùé øåøà åøà (aB)
For they did not come to the aid of Yhwh, äåäé úøæòì åàá­àì éë (bA)
to the aid of Yhwh with its heroes.” íéøåáâá äåäé úøæòì (bB)

The text of the curse betrays one editorial activity, namely in the first
colon, where we meet the äåäé êàìî “messenger of Yhwh,” which many
scholars rightly regard as an adaptation of the single occurrence of the
name äåäé which was considered an anthropomorphism in later times
and therefore inappropriate.47

45 The “people of Yhwh” or the “Yhwh-people”; a difficult designation, which in

the light of the whole Hebrew Bible generally is interpreted as “the people of Yhwh,”
interpreting “Yhwh” as a divine name; esp. because of :c, . Judg :– has a clear
parallel in Ps  and might be dependent on it (instead of the other way round, as is often
assumed). At the moment, if the proposal for the quite likely emendation of :c in BHS
is also accepted, this interpretation of äåäé as a DN is not that obvious. If this text is indeed
really old (cf. previous footnote), it must be quite close to the era that mentions the šsw
yhw", the second word being a geographical designation, cf. G.W. Ahlström, Who Were the
Israelites? (Winona Lake ), –; De Moor, Rise of Yahwism, –. On the other
hand, the use of äåäé in the rest of the song does not suggest a geographical designation,
but much more a tribal, personal, or even a divine name; cf. especially :bA åàá­àì éë
äåäé úøæòì “for they did not come to the help of Yhwh.” On the basis of the song alone,
a definite interpretation is not possible. The revocalisation äåäé í!ò “with Yhwh” in :,
 suggested in De Moor, “Twelve Tribes,” ; idem, Rise of Yahwism, – n. ,
should be rejected for it lacks any textual critical justification.
46 Fritz, Entstehung Israels, –, regards the whole verse as a Fremdkörper; cf. also

Levin, “Das Alter,” –.

47 The messenger in mt is changed into a prophet in TgJ, because it may have been

the question whether an angel was supposed to have the prerogative to curse; cf. Smelik,
Targum of Judges, –. Modern commentators tend to delete êàìî; cf. Lindars, Judges
–, . Contrast, however, Knauf, “Meroz (Judg. :),” who suggests that äåäé was
 judges  reconsidered 

Commentators generally approach Meroz differently from the way

they approach the reluctant tribes.48 Meroz is supposed to be a Canaanite
city and for that reason it could be cursed vehemently and was probably
even destroyed in the aftermath of the battle.49 But it might be asked
whether this is likely within the present context of the book: why no
cursing of the tribes who do not answer to their obligations? In chs. –
 it is obvious that not answering the obligations would lead to severe
measures against such a tribe.
Lindars rightly points out that the curse of Meroz functions as a con-
trast to the blessing of Ja#el in the next verse and for that reason is formu-
lated in this way.50 However, how should the text be understood? “Using
a little imagination, we can guess that this clan was in a position to cut
off the flight of the main body of the enemy and refused to do so.”51 This
might be an option, of course, but the text does not tell us. It only indi-
cates that Meroz did not come to help, which seems to be on a par with the
other tribes that failed to join the battle. The fact that commentators are
reluctant to question this difference between the two entities may be due
to the fact that they follow the poet or editor, who hesitated to curse the
later tribes in the same way that Meroz was cursed.52 It cannot be denied,
however, that there is a discrepancy between the curse of Meroz and the

inserted later on, because deleting êàìî would imply that some “theme consonants” of
the poem would be lost, which in view of the strong alliteration of the consonants in the
song seems unlikely (though êàìî should probably be emended to êìî; cf. also De Moor,
Rise of Yahwism, , although retaining the element äåäé as well).
48 Lindars, Judges –, ; Brettler, Judges, . Note also that H.-J. Zobel, Stammes-

spruch und Geschichte (BZAW ; Berlin ), –, does not discuss the verse at all
but only mentions it in passing by.
49 Cf., e.g. A. Alt, “Meros,” ZAW  ( / ) – = idem, Kleine Schriften,

:–.
50 Lindars, Judges –, . Cf. also Fokkelman, “The Song,” ; Knauf, “Meroz (Judg

:).”
51 Lindars, Judges –, .
52 Weiser, “Das Deboralied,” , interpretes the list in :– as a Anwesenheitsliste

at a cult, where the song is recited, which explains the different approach of Meroz and
these four entities. B. Halpern, “The Resourceful Israelite Historian: The Song of Deborah
and Israelite Historiography,” HTR  () –; F.M. Cross, “Reuben, First-Born
of Jacob,” ZAW Sup () –, at – n. , suggest that the tribes in :–
 did join the battle. Halpern suggests that åãøé “they came down” (:) still governs
the description of the tribes in :–. His arguments are not convincing, though.
L.E. Stager, “Archaeology, Ecology, and Social History: Background Themes to the Song
of Deborah,” in Congress Volume: Jerusalem  (ed. J.A. Emerton; VTSup ; Leiden
), –, suggested that economical reasons forced the four tribes not to join the
battle, which was appreciated by the poet in contrast to his reproach of Meroz.
 raymond de hoop

“rebuke” of the four failing tribes. A closer look at these rebukes demon-
strates that most of the sayings apply language borrowed from Gene-
sis , whereas the verbs in Judges  denote settlement, suggesting here
in fact inactivity.53 According to Lindars, scholars have questioned the
integrity of these verses also because they lack the energy and poetic qual-
ity of the rest.54 All in all, it may imply that originally the song rebuked
only Meroz but none of the groups or regions that later were considered
to constitute Israel. The original song referred to names of groups (or
regions) that joined the battle, whereas the names that are listed together
with Deborah and Barak (Issachar; cf. previous paragraph) or that are
rebuked (Reuben, Gilead, Dan, Asher) were added later on during the
editorial process. Finally the reference to Zebulon and Naphtali (:) is
added secondarily under the influence of the prose framework.55 The list
with names may originally have run as follows:

From Ephraim, with roots in Amalek56 ÷ìîòá íùøù íéøôà éðî (aA)
Behind you Benjamin, with your kin, êéîîòá ïéîéðá êéøçà (aB)
From Machir the commanders went down, íé÷÷çî åãøé øéëî éðî (bA)
and from Zebulun those with the marsha’s staff. øôñ èáùá íéëùî ïìåáæîå (bB)

53 Zobel, Stammesspruch, –; Halpern, “Resourceful Historian,” –; Globe,

“The Muster of the Tribes,” –, ; Lindars, Judges –, ; Levin, “Das Alter,”
–. Although Lindars states that TgJ avoids censure, Reuben is obviously mocked
because of his reluctance; cf. Smelik, Targum of Judges, –, while in the other cases
the bias of failure is absent (ibid., –).
54 Lindars, Judges –, , states this without any reference to literature.
55 Cf. De Vaux, Early History, –; H. Donner, Geschichte des Volkes Israel und

seiner Nachbarn in Grundzügen, (d ed.; ATD. Erg. .; Göttingen ), :–
n. .
56 The final two Hebrew words are hard to interpret and several suggestions for

emendation have been made. The rendering here follows among others J.A. Soggin,
“Amalek und Ephraim, Richter ,,” ZDPV  () –; idem, Judges, ; Halpern,
“Resourceful Israelite Historian,” ; idem, The First Historians, ; comparable trans-
lations by De Geus, Tribes, , with n. ; H. Cazelles, “Déborah (Jud. V ), Amaleq
 

et Makır,” VT  () –; Fokkelman, “The Song,” . Another proposal is

from Craigie, “Further Notes,” –, who proposes to translate íùøù “officers” (fol-
lowed by Lindars, Judges –, –; Fokkelman, “The Song,” –). De Moor,
“Twelve Tribes,” , suggests re-interpreting íù (é)øù “princes of fame.” Both continue
to accept the reading of lxx, emending ÷ìîòá as ÷îòá “into the valley.” The latter emen-
dation is correctly opposed by Cazelles, “Déborah”; Fokkelman, “The Song,” , with
nn. –. E.A. Knauf, “Zum Text von Ri ,,” Bib  () –, suggests consid-
ering the words as a wrongly inserted gloss, but that seems a final solution which is not
necessary.
 judges  reconsidered 

. Where in the “Land”?

The original list of names is quite short, which may also affect the ter-
ritory they cover. The ten names in the list of Judg :– seem to
reflect the pre-Omride kingdom of northern Israel.57 Yet, at first sight
this strophe with four names reflects a much smaller territory, restricted
to Cisjordan.58 This is mainly due to the fact that Machir, the only “son”
of Manasseh,59 is considered to represent Manasseh in the song.60 How-
ever, a majority of traditions locates Machir in Transjordan, assigning
territory (Josh :–) and describing Gilead as Machir’s son (Num
:; :; :;  Chr :–). In the list of ten names the identifica-
tion of Machir with Transjordan would have formed a doublet because
of Gilead’s presence and for that reason Machir becomes identified as
a cisjordanian entity, representing Manasseh. If the list originally con-
sisted of four names only, it appears that this obstacle no longer exists
and an identification with the transjordanian area Gilead is possible.61
On the other hand, if the use of the verb ãøé suggests that they descended
from Machir, does this imply that Machir was located close to the battle-
field and from there they descended directly to the battlefield, or just that
they descended from their territory to come to the battlefield? The ref-
erences to Ephraim and Benjamin in :a seem to be governed by the
verb ãøé as well (either from :, or—more likely—from :b), and they
also have their territories a considerable distance from the battlefield.62
The general identification of Machir with the northern parts of Gilead in
other biblical texts suggests looking for Machir in Transjordan as well.
The later expansion of the list in order to come to a complete description

57 Knauf, “Deborah’s Language,” –.

58 Aharoni and Avi-Yonah, MacMillan Atlas, –, , . See also Zobel, Stammes-
spruch, –. In L.H. Grollenberg, Atlas van de Bijbel (Amsterdam ), –, ;
, ; Tübinger Bibelatlas (ed. S. Mittman and G. Schmitt; Stuttgart ), map B IV.:
large parts of the cisjordanian area, north of Ephraim are assigned to Manasseh, whereas
the Transjordanian area at the same geographical level is assigned to Gilead. On the basis
of Joshua – an additional map is offered, which assigns the latter (transjordanian)
area to Gad. In neither case is “Machir” mentioned.
59 Cf. however also M.P. Graham, “Machir,” ABD :–.
60 Cf. J. Hoftijzer, “Enige opmerkingen rond het Israëlitische -stammensysteem,”

NedThT  () –, esp. –; Globe, “The Muster of the Tribes,” .
 
61 Cf. also Cazelles, “Amaleq et Makır,” –; Knauf, “Deborah’s Language,” 

n. ,  n. .
62 Halpern, “Resourceful Historian,” –; Craigie, “Further Notes,”  n. ;

Fokkelman, “The Song,”  n. .

 raymond de hoop

of northern Israel confused the identification of Machir.63 If this identifi-

cation of Machir’s territory is correct, we probably have to assume that in
this context “Ephraim” designated a larger area or at least an area closer
to the Valley of Jezreel than the one assigned in Josh :–.64
Whereas Ephraim and Benjamin are not difficult to identify,65 Zebu-
lun’s location presents some problems.66 Because the name is used here as
a territorial designation (cf. ãøé and ïî),67 it seems to suggest that Zebulun
is not a tribal name but much more a geographical designation.68 Nadav
Na"aman has argued that the tribal geography was flexible in contrast to
the boundary system as recorded in, e.g. Joshua –.69 The naming of
Zebulun here could imply the Galilean hill country, without intending
to refer to a specific tribe, but just a specific area.70 But, even when the
name refers solely to the later territory of Zebulun, it would still largely
refer to the hill and mountain region north of the Valley of Jezreel/plain
of Megiddo, which fits the geography of the song.
It thus appears that the song refers to four entities, which in all like-
lihood were geographical designations. Taking the scene of action more
or less as the central point of reference, the poet referred to three direc-
tions: to the south (Ephraim and Benjamin); to the east (Machir); and to

63 Cf., e.g. Zobel, Stammesspruch, –, who is looking for arguments to locate

Machir in Cisjordan, even if some arguments, like the Aramaic origin of Machir’s mother,
argue in favour of a Transjordanian location.
64 Cf.  Kgs :; Josh :; :; and in addition De Vaux, Early History,  (see also

ibid., ).
65 Cf. however our concluding remark above regarding Machir. Furthermore, though

it is open to discussion whether ïéîéðá has to be considered as a tribal name or also can
be considered as a general (implicit geographical) designation (“son[s] of the south”) as
is more often suggested. This would not necessarily imply a territorial designation, which
also is obvious from the fact that ïéîéðá is the only name in this strophe, which is not
preceded by ïî.
66 Cf. De Hoop, Genesis , – (with bibliography).
67 Cf. B. Lindars, “The Israelite Tribes in Judges,” in Studies in the Historical Books of

the Old Testament (ed. J.A. Emerton; VTSup ; Leiden ), –, –.
68 The etymology of the name also suggests ìáæ “to raise up,” HALAT, .
69 N. Na"aman, Borders and Districts in Biblical Historiography: Seven Studies in Biblical

Geographical Lists (JBSt ; Jerusalem ), . This flexible element might be due to the
dynamic aspect in the existence of the tribes themselves; cf. Zobel, Stammesspruch, –
; De Geus, Tribes, .
70 This could be comparable to the reference to the Ashurite in  Sam : as a general

reference to those living in Galilee, which might have been intended as a pars pro toto;
cf. Donner, Geschichte, ; Knauf, “Deborah’s Language,”  n. . Although it has
been argued that this is historically unlikely (cf. D. Edelman, “Ashurites,” ABD, :,
with relevant literature), it seems unlikely that with the list of areas there is an ethnic
designation included of those who live within one of these areas (i.e., Ephraim).
 judges  reconsidered 

the north (Zebulun). It might be that Ephraim comprised a larger terri-

tory during that era or an area which was located closer to the Valley of
Jezreel, but this will remain uncertain. The territory which is covered in
this way by the list of only four names in : reflects more or less the ter-
ritory of the northern kingdom under King Saul.71 The song without its
additional verses is a victory song, which sings the praises of the people
of Yhwh and of Ja#el’s role especially, and it appears to have been created
in the northern realm. In its reworked form it became a song within a
prose framework, that has the tribal organisation as its perspective and
as its goal to mock male leadership, which is especially emphasized by
the whole context of the book (cf. above). It might be significant in this
respect that in this war, which was led and won by a woman, Judah did
not take part. This suggests that the song, as we now have it in front of us,
has been transferred to the south and is the product of a southern redac-
tion, which had some interest in mocking the north in order to present a
positive picture of the south. The specific era in which this editing of the
song took place “is a different story.”72

. Conclusion

In this essay it has been argued that the “Song of Deborah” is the liter-
ary product of an editor, who attributed the original Song to Deborah
and adapted it in the narrative prose framework (Judg :–:). The
goal was twofold: first to put the song in the context of northern Israel
where the need for a strong king became more and more obvious, and
second to put it in the tribal framework of Israel constructed as a tribal
society. The first had to legitimize the rise of kingship, particularly from
the south (Judah). The second had to provide a foundation for the more
genealogically focussed idea of the origin of Israel’s tribal society. The
original song referred to four entities: Ephraim, Benjamin, Makir, and
Zebulon, which might have been geographical references only. This is in
line with the findings of De Geus, that there has been a development from

71 Cf., e.g.  Sam :, and furthermore Knauf, “Deborah’s Language,” –.
72 E. Noort, Een plek om te zijn: Over de theologie van het land aan de hand van Jozua
:– (inaugural address University of Groningen: ..; Kampen ), ; idem,
“The Traditions of Ebal and Gerizim,” ; idem, “Joshua: The History of Reception and
Hermeneutics,” in Past, Present, Future: The Deuteronomistic History and the Prophets (ed.
J.C. de Moor and H.F. van Rooy; OTS ; Leiden ), .
 raymond de hoop

geographical concepts to genealogically oriented lists.73 Apparently, the

people involved in the war were a group of people of lesser social stand-
ing, living in higher areas of the land, refugees. They called themselves íò
äåäé, “people of Yhwh,” which is an unclear expression when read in the
song alone, but might be one of the earliest uses of the name Yhwh. The
four geographical references indicate a territory comparable to Saulide
Israel, which might suggest that the era in which the original song arose
was the eleventh or tenth century bce.

73 De Geus, Tribes, , –, –.

 THE LAND IN THE BOOK OF HOSEA*

Gert Kwakkel

. Introduction

“ ‘The land’ is a central theme in Hosea’s thought.”1 Two observations

suffice to justify this statement. First, in the book of Hosea õøàä “the
land” is found in the very first verse after the superscription, that is,
in Hos :. There the land is accused of unfaithfulness to Yhwh by
committing whoredom. Second, the noun also figures prominently in
the first verse of the main corpus of Hosea’s prophecies, that is, in :.
This text affirms that Yhwh is involved in a dispute or lawsuit against the
inhabitants of the land, because there is no faithfulness, no loyalty and no
knowledge of God in the land.
Given the huge amount of data with respect to the land in Deuteron-
omy and related literature (including Jeremiah), it is hardly surprising
that research into the topic has mainly concentrated on these books.2 This
study widens the scope of investigation by analysing the way in which the
land functions as a “central theme” in Hosea.
The investigation will be restricted to texts in which the noun õøà
occurs and in which it may refer to the land of Israel, viz. Hos :;
:, , –; :, ; :; :.3 The main reason for choosing this
approach is that some of these texts present remarkable statements with
respect to õøàä. In :, for example, one would expect the people of Israel
to be charged with fornication, rather than õøàä. Hosea : announces

* In honour of Prof. Ed Noort, who has spent so much time and energy on “the land.”
1 P.D. Miller Jr., Sin and Judgment in the Prophets: A Stylistic and Theological Analysis
(SBLMS ; Chico, Ca., ), .
2 See, e.g. W. Brueggemann, The Land: Place as Gift, Promise, and Challenge in

Biblical Faith (Overtures to Biblical Theology; London ); P. Diepold, Israels Land
(BWANT ; Stuttgart ); W. Zimmerli, “Das ‘Land’ bei den vorexilischen und
frühexilischen Schriftpropheten,” in Das Land Israel in biblischer Zeit: Jerusalem-Sympo-
sium  der Hebräischen Universität und der Georg-August-Universität (ed. G. Strecker;
GTA ; Göttingen ), –.
3 The following texts are left out of consideration: Hos :, ; :; :; :, ;

:; :–.
 gert kwakkel

that the people of Judah and Israel will “go up” (äìò) from õøàä. What do
these words mean and why are they part of a description of the blissful
future promised to God’s people? Similar questions can be asked with
respect to the enigmatic õøàá éì äéúòøæå “I will sow her for myself in
the land” in :. The meaning of these texts must be clarified before a
comprehensive analysis of the topic of the land in Hosea can be carried
out properly.
Furthermore, the discussion of the exegetical issues relating to the
selected texts will be strictly synchronic, for two reasons. First, as many
contemporary scholars assume, synchronic analysis should precede dia-
chronic analysis.4 Second, there is no consensus with respect to the
authenticity and date of several of the texts involved. Therefore, a con-
sensus cannot be taken as a point of departure, whereas a balanced dis-
cussion of these matters would exceed the format of this article.

. Hosea :

In Hos : Yhwh orders the prophet to marry a wife who is inclined to
fornicate5 and to have children of similar disposition, because “the land”
(õøàä) fornicates and thus forsakes Yhwh. Since the rest of the chapter
proclaims judgment on the people of Israel, õøàä is, understandably,
mostly taken as a metonymical reference to the people. More recently,
however, some authors have claimed that õøàä actually refers to the land.
According to Laurie J. Braaten, for example, Yhwh’s bride in Hos :–
: is “the land per se,” whereas the children, who are called on to plead
with their mother in :, represent the people of Israel. In support of
this interpretation, he argues that in Hos – “Israel/Ephraim is always
represented by masculine imagery” and is never God’s bride. Besides, he
points to the agricultural imagery applied to the bride in Hosea . In his
view, it is only from : onward that the bride includes Israel.6

4 Cf., e.g. E. Talstra, Oude en nieuwe lezers: Een inleiding in de methoden van uitleg

van het Oude Testament (Ontwerpen ; Kampen ), –.

5 On this interpretation of íéðåðæ úùà, see HALOT, .
6 L.J. Braaten, “God Sows: Hosea’s Land Theme in the Book of the Twelve,” in Thematic

Threads in the Book of Twelve (ed. P.L. Redditt and A. Schart; BZAW ; Berlin ),
–, esp. –. Cf. also A.A. Keefe, Woman’s Body and the Social Body in Hosea
(JSOTSup ; London ), –; G.A. Yee, “ ‘She Is Not My Wife and I Am Not
Her Husband’: A Materialist Analysis of Hosea –,” BibInt  () –, esp. –
; E. Ben Zvi, Hosea (FOTL A.; Grand Rapids, Mich., ), , .
 the land in the book of hosea 

Does the unfaithful mother addressed in :– indeed stand for the
land per se? The penalties with which the woman is threatened relate to
agricultural production (see esp. :, ). This obviously makes sense
if the woman is the land. Nevertheless, there are one or two elements
in the pericope that can hardly be accounted for if the woman is the
land in contrast with the people. In :b the people themselves are
foregrounded, as those who have made a Baal out of the silver and the
gold given to the woman.7 However, this clause might be considered
irrelevant to the issue under discussion, because it uses the third person
plural instead of the third person singular feminine. The situation is
different in :, for there it is evidently the woman herself who is charged
with offering incense (øè÷) to the Baals. Yet the land per se can hardly be
taken as the subject of this action.
In the next part of the chapter, :b refers to the days of the woman’s
youth “as the time when she came up out of Egypt.” Consequently, the
woman here stands for the people of Israel. This implies that when :–
 is read in connection with the rest of the chapter, the woman cannot
be the land in contrast with the people. The metaphor either refers to the
people or it shifts from the land to the people almost unnoticed, so as to
include both.8 If this is combined with the observation that the woman
in v.  most probably is not the land per se either, it turns out that the
assumption that the woman in :– stands for the land per se does not
provide a solid base for the interpretation of õøàä in :.
Should one then take the opposite position and state that õøàä in
Hos : simply denotes the people? In support of this view, it could be
argued that in some cases the noun refers to the peoples of the earth.9
This might imply that it could also be a metonymical designation of the
people of a specific land (see esp.  Kgs :–; Isa :). If so, is there
a special reason why this noun is used in Hos : or does it not have a
particular meaning at all? This question cannot be answered yet, but it
will be addressed again in the conclusions of this study.

7Cf. HAL, .

8This is admitted by Braaten himself, in “God Sows,”  n. . Cf. also Keefe,
Woman’s Body, .
9 See Gen :–; :; Josh :;  Sam :;  Kgs :; Pss :; :.
 gert kwakkel

. Hosea :

The short clause õøàä­ïî äìòå in Hos : presents the interpreter with
three questions: () Which land is meant by õøàä? () Which meaning
of äìò must be preferred? () If äìò implies a movement to another place,
what is the goal of this movement?10
According to some exegetes, õøàä refers to the land to which Israel has
been exiled and äìò to the people’s return from exile to Canaan.11 These
scholars have correctly pointed out that äìò is often used for travelling
to Canaan, especially from Egypt, but also from other countries such
as Assyria and Babylonia. It also has this sense in Hos :, where it is
used in connection with the exodus, while a number of texts outside
Hosea show that “returning from exile” is indeed one of the meanings
of the verb.12 Furthermore, a similar interpretation of åìòå fits åöá÷ðå at
the beginning of :, as õá÷ often occurs in announcements of Israel’s
return from exile.13
Nevertheless, a serious problem with this view is that nobody would
link õøàä with a land of exile, unless the context presents clear indi-
cations to that effect. However, the exile has never been mentioned in
Hosea up to :. It is not explicitly referred to in the rest of Hos , either.14
Accordingly, the notion of the exile must be introduced from other texts
in Hosea (e.g. :; :), from the exilic or post-exilic situation in which
the text was supposedly written down, or from texts such as Lev ; Deut
; Amos :. If Hos : is read from the perspective of its literary con-
text, there is no reason whatsoever to assume that õøàä refers to another
country than Israel or Canaan.15
On the basis of this observation, Sellin took õøàä­ïî åìòå in : as a
prophecy about Israel’s imminent departure from Canaan to the desert.

10 For overviews of interpretations of the clause, see W. Rudolph, Hosea (KAT .;

Gütersloh ), –; G.A. Yee, Composition and Tradition in the Book of Hosea: A
Redaction Critical Investigation (SBLDS ; Atlanta, Ga., ), – n. .
11 C. van Gelderen and W.H. Gispen, Het boek Hosea (Commentaar op het Oude

Testament; Kampen ), ; A. Szabó, “Textual Problems in Amos and Hosea,” VT 
() –, esp. ; J. Jeremias, Der Prophet Hosea (ATD .; Göttingen, ),
; B. Renaud, “Osée ii : #lh mn h"rs. . Essai d’interprétation,” VT  () –,
esp. –; Ben Zvi, Hosea, –.
12 See, e.g. Jer :; Ezra :, ; :; :; Neh :;  Chr :.
13 See, e.g. Isa :; :; Jer :; :; Ezek :; :; Zech :, ; Ps :.
14 For :, see below, §  on Hos :–.
15 Cf. Rudolph, Hosea, ; A.A. Macintosh, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on

Hosea (ICC; Edinburgh ), .

 the land in the book of hosea 

He linked the clause with :–, which, in his view, describe the
coming change of the desert into a paradise.16 Sellin’s interpretation has
not met with much approval. It would, however, agree well with the idea
that in : the land itself is the mother who has forsaken Yhwh. In that
case, : would proclaim that the children, the people of Israel, will leave
their mother and thus dissociate themselves from her behaviour (cf. also
:–; :).
Sellin’s interpretation obviously clears the way to an attractive view of
Hos  in connection with :. Yet it is problematic. Hosea : says that
Yhwh will allure the woman (i.e. the people or the land of Israel) so as
to bring her into the desert, whereas : suggests that the people will “go
up” by their own initiative. According to :– the people’s “going up”
will be preceded by an immense growth in population. In : bringing
the woman to the desert is the first step by which Yhwh seeks to deliver
her from her plight. Furthermore, although :– does not explicitly
point out that the people will return to Canaan, Sellin’s suggestion that
they will stay outside Canaan for ever seems improbable (cf. esp. :,
aα).17
Theodoor C. Vriezen rightly saw that Sellin’s interpretation of ­ïî åìòå
õøàä cannot be maintained. Instead, he suggested in his inaugural lecture
delivered at the university of Groningen on th December, , that
the verb äìò might be translated by “to come up” or “to shoot up,” just as
in Deut :. The purport of the clause then would be that on the day
of God’s sowing (ìàòøæé íåé) the people of Israel will shoot up like plants
from the ground. According to Vriezen, this interpretation agrees with
:, which says that the Israelites shall be as numerous as the sand on the
sea shore, and with “I will sow her for myself in the land” in :.18
Although Vriezen’s proposal has received support from eminent inter-
preters like Wilhelm Rudolph and A.A. Macintosh,19 it is not totally con-
vincing. Vriezen’s view presupposes that the audience or the reader was
aware of the etymological meaning of ìàòøæé. This is doubtful, because
unlike äîçø àì and éîò àì, the meaning of ìàòøæé does not play a part
in Hosea  (contrast :– with :–, ; cf. also :, ). It is only in :

16 E. Sellin, Das Zwölfprophetenbuch (d and d ed.; KAT ; Leipzig ), :.
17 Cf. H.W. Wolff, “Der große Jesreeltag (Hosea , –): Methodologische Erwägungen
zur Auslegung einer alttestamentlichen Perikope,” EvT  (–) –, esp. ;
Rudolph, Hosea, .
18 T.C. Vriezen, Hosea: Profeet en cultuur (Groningen ), , .
19 Rudolph, Hosea, ; Macintosh, Hosea, –.
 gert kwakkel

that the etymology of the name is clearly taken into account, but this can-
not be readily assumed for :.20 However, apart from the etymological
meaning of ìàòøæé, there is no indication that could help the audience or
the reader in detecting the specific meaning attributed to äìò in Vriezen’s
view.21
Instead, one had better try and make the best of the most usual
meaning of äìò with a human subject, that is, “to go up.” This was done
by, for example, Ina Willi-Plein, when she interpreted õøàä­ïî åìòå as
a reference to an eschatological pilgrimage. Her interpretation has the
advantage that not only äìò but also õøàä is taken in its most obvious
sense, namely, the land of Israel. As for the destination of the pilgrimage,
she inferred from “for great shall be the day of Jezreel” at the end of
v.  that the pilgrims shall be travelling to Jezreel.22 If that is correct,
the objection that the most important element, the destination of the
pilgrimage, is not mentioned in the text, does not apply any more.23
Willi-Plein has rightly pointed out that ìàòøæé is the only toponym
in Hos :–. However, the problem with her view is that nothing in
the context hints at a sanctuary or a cultic festival in Jezreel. In fact, the
context does not prepare the reader for cultic affairs such as a pilgrimage
at all.
A better solution can be found if it is realised that : is the positive
counterpart to the prophecy of doom in :–, just as :b and a reverse
the judgment announced in : and :b that of :. The statement that
the day of Jezreel shall be great obviously contrasts with the ominous
prophecy associated with the name of Hosea’s first child in :–. More
particularly, it most probably announces the opposite of the military
defeat situated in the valley of Jezreel in :, for a “great day” may well
be a day of victory (cf. “the day of Midian” in Isa :). Furthermore,
the people’s gathering together so as to appoint a head for themselves

20 An alternative view on ìàòøæé íåé in : will be proposed below.

21 In cases in which äìò means “to shoot up,” this meaning can be inferred from
contextual markers such as references to vegetation; see, e.g. Gen :; Deut :; Isa
:; Hos :; Prov :.
22 I. Willi-Plein, Vorformen der Schriftexegese innerhalb des Alten Testaments: Unter-

suchungen zum literarischen Werden der auf Amos, Hosea und Micha zurückgehenden
Bücher im hebräischen Zwölfprophetenbuch (BZAW ; Berlin ), –.
23 H.W. Wolff, Dodekapropheton (d ed.; BKAT .; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), :;

Rudolph, Hosea, . Unlike Hos :, texts in which äìò clearly has the technical meaning
of making a pilgrimage mention the destination or the goal of the journey; see Exod :;
 Sam :; :;  Kgs :; Isa :; Jer :; Mic :; Zech :–; Ps :.
 the land in the book of hosea 

contrasts with the prophecy that Yhwh will put an end to the kingdom
of Israel in : (cf. also  Sam :–;  Sam :;  Chr :;  Chr :).
In this context, the most natural interpretation of åìòå is that it refers
to the army of Israel and Judah moving up to the battlefield. As can be
inferred from “the day of Jezreel,” the battle and the resulting victory shall
take place at Jezreel, just like the defeat predicted in :. This agrees with
:, which likewise emphasises that salvation (expressed by “it shall be
said to them ‘children of the living God’ ”) shall take place at the same
place as judgment (expressed by “it shall be said to them ‘you are not my
people’ ”).24
If this interpretation is followed, one must explain the striking fact
that Hos : does not describe the battle itself. A clue may be found
in :. This text affirms that Judah shall be delivered by Yhwh himself
and not by means of military power. A similar reserve as regards the
benefit of human resources could be implied by the use of ùàø “head”
or “leader” instead of êìî “king” in :. Apparently, ùàø does not evoke
the political machinations that are described to the king and his officials
in, for example, :; :,  (cf. also :–). Maybe this aloofness
concerning human actions is the reason why : stresses the two peoples’
going together and not the course of the battle.
Summing up, õøàä in Hos : refers to all places in Canaan where the
people of Israel and Judah are living. From (ïî) all these places they shall
move up (äìò) to Jezreel. This moving up shall either coincide with the
gathering together of the people mentioned at the beginning of v.  (õá÷)
or follow the assembly in which they shall appoint a common leader. At
Jezreel they shall win a great victory, which shall be remembered as “the
day of Jezreel.”25
This interpretation clearly does not solve all problems, but it fits the
context better than any other view. As far as the topic of “the land” in
Hosea is concerned, the conclusion must be that : does not yield much.
The verse does not reveal a particular view of the land.

24 On íå÷îá, see Rudolph, Hosea, ; on the identity of the place meant in : and

Jezreel, see J.L. Mays, Hosea: A Commentary (OTL; London ), ; Jeremias, Hosea,
.
25 For a similar interpretation of v. , see C. von Orelli, Die zwölf kleinen Propheten

(Kurzgefaßter Kommentar zu den heiligen Schriften des Alten und Neuen Testamentes
sowie zu den Apokryphen .; d ed.; München ), .
 gert kwakkel

. Hosea :

In Hos :a Yhwh promises to make a covenant with (íò) the wild
animals for the benefit of “them” (íäì), that is, the Israelites. By virtue
of this covenant, the animals shall no longer damage the people’s crops
and threaten their security. That this is the purpose behind the covenant
can be inferred from the contrast with : and from “I will make them
lie down in safety” in :b. Accordingly, v. a focuses on what shall
happen in the land of Israel. Although the words used allow for a wider
scope, there is no need to interpret them as a prophecy of cosmic peace.26
Hosea :b adds another element to the picture, namely, that Yhwh
will “break” (øáù) bows, swords and war (äîçìî),27 so that they shall be
banished from õøàä.28 Just like the covenant with the animals in v. a,
the end of warfare prophesied in v. b shall ensure a peaceful life, in
which the people of Israel and their properties shall be secure. Since this
is the purport of v. b, õøàä refers to the land of Israel and not to the
whole earth.29 This is further confirmed by the fact that :b mirrors
the defeat of Israel’s military power announced in : (cf. øáù and úù÷),
which is located in the valley of Jezreel. Besides, :b may be linked with
:, which also has úù÷, áøç and äîçìî and which concentrates on the
deliverance of Judah.
In conclusion, Hos :b announces a bright future for the land of
Israel. After the fulfilment of the prophecies of doom of Hos  and :–
, the land shall be once again a safe dwelling place for the people.

. Hosea :–

In Hos :– õøàä figures as one of the links of a figurative chain,

which starts with Yhwh and ends with Jezreel. The action that every link
of the chain performs towards the next one is described by verbal forms of
äðò Qal. These forms are usually related to äðò I “to answer,” which, here,
is supposed to have the more specific meaning of “reacting willingly” or

26 Cf. also G.M. Tucker, “The Peaceable Kingdom and a Covenant with the Wild

Animals,” in God Who Creates: Essays in Honor of W. Sibley Towner (ed. W.P. Brown and
S.D. McBride Jr.; Grand Rapids, Mich., ), –, esp. –.
27 The noun may also denote a type of weapons; cf. HAL, –.
28 On the pregnant construction ïî øåáùà, cf. Wolff, Dodekapropheton, :; Macin-

tosh, Hosea, .

29 Cf. also Mays, Hosea, –.
 the land in the book of hosea 

“hearing a prayer.”30 äðò may have a similar meaning in : and :.
In :– this interpretation yields a good sense, although one misses
an explicit reference to the prayer that is heard or another action that is
reacted upon.31
Irrespective of the way in which äðò is interpreted, Hos :– evi-
dently proclaims that in the future (cf. àåää íåéá) Yhwh will initiate and
direct a process in which the heavens, õøàä and agricultural products
such as grain, wine, and oil shall all cooperate so as to provide Jezreel
with food and drink. Moreover, the figure of the chain and its links sug-
gests that the Baals shall no longer be able to disturb the relationship
between Yhwh and his people by intruding into this process, as if they
were the agents of rain and fertility.32 In this connection, õøàä, as the
link between the heavens and the agricultural products, most obviously
means “the earth” (i.e. the dry land, as distinguished from the heavens
and the seas; cf. Gen :; Exod :) or “the ground.” Yet Jezreel at the
end of v.  makes it clear that the prophecy aims at the land of Israel in
particular.
In the interpretation of õøàá éì äéúòøæå (:aα), two questions must
be answered: () To whom or to what does the suffix ä- refer? () What
is the meaning of the verb òøæ?
As for the first question, the suffix of the third person singular feminine
may refer to the mother or Yhwh’s wife mentioned in :–, . Instead,
the antecedent may also be Jezreel, because Jezreel is mentioned at the
end of v. , just before äéúòøæå. Besides, äéúòøæå is a pun on the meaning
of Jezreel (i.e. “God sows”), which enhances the connection. Admittedly,
Jezreel is a boy’s name in Hos : and the valley (÷îò) of Jezreel men-
tioned in : is masculine. However, as the name of the town from which
the valley took its name Jezreel can be referred to by a feminine suffix (cf.
Josh :, ).33
On closer inspection, it does not make much difference who is taken
as the antecedent of ä-, the woman mentioned in :–, , or Jezreel.
From v.  onward, the woman referred to by the third person singular
feminine evidently stands for the people of Israel. As regards Jezreel, one
must consider the fact that Hos :– reverses the prophecies of doom

30 Cf., e.g. HAL, .

31 For Macintosh, Hosea, –, this is one of the reasons why he relates the verbal
forms to äðò III “to attend to.”
32 Cf. Rudolph, Hosea, –.
33 Therefore ìàòøæé in v.  cannot be taken as an argument for reading åä- “him”

instead of ä-, as some older scholars proposed (cf. BHS).

 gert kwakkel

that are linked with the names of Hosea’s children in :–. In :–
Jezreel symbolises the fall of the Israelite kingdom and its army. In :
ìàòøæé figures as the focus of the agricultural goods given by Yhwh. Given
this function of ìàòøæé in : and its role in :b, , and :, it makes
most sense to interpret ìàòøæé in : as the name of the town from which
the valley took its name. Yet it goes without saying that the people of Israel
as a whole shall benefit from the crops that shall be received by this town
and the related valley. In other words, ìàòøæé gets a new sense in that
it now symbolises the restoration of the people instead of its downfall.
Consequently, Israel is in view in :aα, either as Yhwh’s wife or as the
people associated with and symbolised by Jezreel.
As for the second question, relating to the meaning of òøæ, according to
Rudolph äéúòøæå means that Yhwh will impregnate or inseminate Israel as
his wife.34 Macintosh has correctly pointed out that òøæ Qal does not have
such a sense in any other text, including Jer :, which is often referred
to in this context.35 Nevertheless, it can be inferred from Num :, where
the Niphal of òøæ is used in connection with a woman’s capability of
conceiving children, that òøæ Qal might have been used with a similar
meaning. For that reason, sexual connotations cannot be totally excluded
for äéúòøæå in Hos :.
Yet an agricultural interpretation fits the context much better. Not only
the most usual meaning of òøæ, but also the fact that the act of sowing or
inseminating meant by äéúòøæå is related to “the land” or “the ground”
(õøàá) and the agrarian scope of :– argue in favour of such a view
(cf. also Gen :). The metaphor of sowing then expresses the idea that
Yhwh will grant his people a fixed place where they can prosper, grow,
and multiply, just like seed sown in the fields (cf. also Hos :).36 All
this shall be for Yhwh’s benefit (éì; cf. éì in :–). The growth of the
people shall no longer be attributed to the Baals, but Yhwh alone shall be
recognised as the giver of all good things (cf. v. bβ and contrast v. ).
Obviously, v. aα, thus interpreted, could be linked with Israel’s
return from exile.37 However, as has been pointed out above, the exile
is not explicitly referred to in Hosea  and . Only a figurative allusion
may be detected in :, which says that Yhwh shall bring his wife into

34 Rudolph, Hosea, ; cf. also Keefe, Woman’s Body, –; Ben Zvi, Hosea, .
35 Macintosh, Hosea, .
36 An additional connotation might be that the people will spread over the country;

cf. Zech :.

37 Thus Jeremias, Hosea, .
 the land in the book of hosea 

the wilderness. Regardless of the decision made about the interpretation

of :, it is clear that within the framework of the figurative language of
Hosea , v. aα must be linked with vv. –. The promise that Yhwh
will sow his people õøàá is the counterpart of the announcement that
he will bring them into the wilderness. There the relationship between
him and his people shall be restored. Next, he will grant them a fixed
place õøàá, which, in this context, can only refer to the land of Israel or
Canaan.38
In short, õøàä in Hos : refers to Canaan as the prosperous land that
must be left by the people of Israel (cf. v. ), but to which they shall come
back after their relationship with Yhwh shall be restored. Back in the land,
they shall again enjoy its agricultural goods (vv. –). They shall have a
fixed place there and shall prosper and multiply for the benefit of Yhwh,
whom they shall recognise as their God (v. ). All this is symbolised
by the name Jezreel being changed from a token of doom to a token of
salvation.

. Hosea :, 

According to Hos :aβ, Yhwh is involved in a dispute or lawsuit (áéø)

with the inhabitants of õøàä. Since v. aα says that this statement should
be taken to heart by the Israelites (ìàøùé éðá), these people must be meant
by “the inhabitants” and õøàä must refer to the land of Israel or Canaan.
The same then applies to õøàá in v. b, where the Israelites are accused
of not having faithfulness, loyalty and knowledge of God.
Hosea :aα affirms that because of these failures and the crimes
mentioned in v. , õøàä shall mourn (ìáà) and all who live in it (­ìë
äá áùåé) shall languish (ìîà). Given that õøàä, áùé and á clearly connect
these clauses with v. , the most natural interpretation is that õøàä stands
for the land of Israel and “all who live in it” for the people dwelling there.
However, the rest of the verse makes it clear that the wild animals, the
birds of the air and the fish of the sea are also affected by the disaster.39
Some interpreters infer from this part of v.  that the whole of creation

38 Cf. C. van Leeuwen, Hosea (d ed.; De Prediking van het Oude Testament; Nijkerk

), , ; Macintosh, Hosea, .

39 The preposition á introducing äãùä úéç “the wild animals” and íéîùä óåò “the birds

of the air” should most probably be translated by “along with.” For this sense of á, see esp.
Jer :;  Chr :. For another view (i.e. á-essentiae), see E. Jenni, Die Präposition Beth
(vol.  of Die hebräischen Präpositionen; Stuttgart ), –, –.
 gert kwakkel

is involved and, accordingly, that õøàä in aα refers to the earth.40

Evidently, the expressions used to denote the animals are capable of a
universal interpretation (cf. Gen :, ; :), but in this context that is
a less probable option. The expressions are set phrases and their scope
may be limited to animals living in the land of Israel.41 This even applies
to íéä éâã “the fish of the sea,” for íé is also used for large lakes such as the
Sea of Galilee.42
Hosea : is often taken as a description of an existing situation and not
as an announcement of imminent disaster. The main argument for this
view is that the verse opens with ïë­ìò “that is why” just like :; :;
:, instead of ïëì “therefore” as in :, ; :.43 If v.  indeed describes
the actual deplorable situation of the land of Israel, it produces a plausible
explanation of the fact that õøàä is mentioned twice in v. .44 In that
case, the Israelites are emphatically characterised as “the inhabitants of
the land” and they are blamed for the absence of faithfulness, loyalty and
knowledge of God “in the land,” because the land is suffering so much.
Unfortunately, the argument taken from ïë­ìò is not compelling.
Isaiah : and Amos : show that if ïë­ìò is followed by an imperfect
just as in Hos :, it may refer to future conditions.45 If that is the case
here, the reason why õøàä “the land” figures so prominently in Hos :
cannot be deduced from :–, but must be sought elsewhere.

. Hosea :

Hosea : prophesies that the people of the Northern Kingdom (cf. ìàøùé
in : and íéøôà in :b) shall not remain in Yhwh’s land (äåäé õøà).
As the land that is inhabited by the Israelites and that is, moreover,
contrasted with Egypt and Assyria in v. b, äåäé õøà evidently stands
for the land of Israel or Canaan. The reason why the people shall not
be allowed to remain living there is revealed in v. . The Israelites have

40 M. DeRoche, “The Reversal of Creation in Hosea,” VT  () –; C.J. Bos-

ma, “Creation in Jeopardy: A Warning to Priests (Hosea :–),” CTJ  () –,
esp. –.
41 Cf. also Ezek :–, where the same phrases refer to animals hit in connection

with an earthquake in Israel.

42 HAL, .
43 Thus, e.g. Rudolph, Hosea, .
44 Note that it is even mentioned three times, if the reading of lxx is followed in v. .
45 Cf. Macintosh, Hosea, .
 the land in the book of hosea 

played the whore (äðæ) in that they have departed unfaithfully from their
God (êéäìà ìòî). Apparently, this misbehaviour manifested itself in the
people considering food and drink as gifts received from Baal in payment
of their adultery with him (v. b).
The phrase äåäé õøà occurs only here in the Old Testament.46 It testifies
to the idea that Yhwh, as the rightful owner, lays down the law in the
land of Israel. Besides, it reminds the Israelites of their privilege of being
allowed to live with Yhwh in his land.47 Furthermore, it evidently is
meant to refute the assumption that Baal were the ruler of the land.48
In Canaan, it is Yhwh who provides his people with food and drink.
Therefore, he should be honoured as the giver. If the Israelites refuse to
do so, he has every right to drive them out of his land.

. Hosea :

In Hos :bβ åöøà “his land” unmistakably stands for the land of Israel,
as ìàøùé is introduced as the subject of the verse in a. After :, which
emphasises that the land is Yhwh’s, it may surprise one that the land is
now referred to as Israel’s. Apparently, the conviction expressed in :
does not preclude this way of speaking.
Hosea :bβ says that the more (ë) Israel’s land prospered (áåè)
the more the Israelites embellished (áèé Hiphil) the pillars (úåáöî). The
preceding parallel line, bα, affirms that the prolific (áø) production of
the vine (i.e. Israel) induced the people to be likewise prolific (äáø Hiphil)
with respect to (ì) altars; that is, by multiplying them or by making more
sacrifices.49 Verse  points out that by acting in this way, the people give
evidence of hypocrisy or falseness (íáì ÷ìç).50 Therefore, they must bear

46 A number of texts have õøà with a suffix referring to Yhwh; see, e.g.  Kgs :; Isa

:; Jer :; Ezek :; :; Joel :; Ps :.

47 Note that the land is denoted as Yhwh’s house (úéá) in Hos : and probably also

in :; see further Lev :.

48 Cf. Mays, Hosea, . For a discussion of the question as to whether the phrase

äåäé õøà implies that other gods are the owners of other lands, see H. Utzschneider,
Hosea Prophet vor dem Ende: Zum Verhältnis von Geschichte und Institution in der
alttestamentlichen Prophetie (OBO ; Freiburg ), –.
49 Cf. Rudolph, Hosea, ; Macintosh, Hosea, .
50 On the interpretation of this phrase, see esp. Jeremias, Hosea, ; cf. also Macin-

tosh, Hosea, –; Ben Zvi, Hosea, .

 gert kwakkel

their guilt (íùà). Yhwh himself51 will “break the neck” (óøò) of their
altars and destroy their pillars.
The text does not say that altars, sacrifices and pillars were used to
worship Baal. The point at issue has been brought out nicely by James
L. Mays: “This co-ordination of welfare and cult shows that Israel saw a
functional relation between the two; the development of cultic sanctuar-
ies was simply turning part of the profit back into the business. Altars and
pillars were the holy machinery which produced the prosperity.”52 This
policy, however, shall fail. Abundant cultic activities are not the appro-
priate response to the blessings which Yhwh bestows upon his people,
nor are they the appropriate means to secure the prosperity of Israel’s
land for the future.

. Conclusions

() In the book of Hosea, õøàä denotes the land of Israel (also known as
Canaan) in :; :, , ; :; :; :. Most probably, it also does so in
:. In :–, the meaning “the earth” or “the ground” is the first to be
considered. Nonetheless, these verses as a whole also focus on the land
of Israel. In all these cases, the prophecies aim primarily at the territory
of the Northern Kingdom, but not to the exclusion of Judah.53

() As the land inhabited by the people of Israel, it can be referred to

as “his” (i.e. Israel’s) “land” (:). Within the scope of this study, it
is more interesting that in one of the texts involved, namely :, it is
called “Yhwh’s land.” As the owner and ruler of the land, Yhwh must be
recognised and honoured as the giver of all its products. This should not
be done by multiplying altars and sacrifices or embellishing holy pillars,
as if the prosperity of the land could be guaranteed by those means (:–
). Since the Israelites have committed adultery by attributing the goods
of the land to Yhwh’s competitor, the Canaanite god Baal, they must leave
the land Yhwh had given them (:; :).

51 It is almost unanimously assumed that àåä in v. b aims at Yhwh, although he is not

explicitly mentioned in the context.

52 Mays, Hosea, . Mays adds that this was “a typically Canaanite understanding of

cult.” Note that a similar aloofness as regards sacrifices made for Yhwh can be found in
Hos :; :; :–; cf. also : on the disappearance of pillars.
53 Cf. above, in §  the discussion of :.
 the land in the book of hosea 

() In retrospect, the fact that : refers to the land as “Yhwh’s land”
makes it clear why the Israelites are addressed as “the inhabitants of
the land” in : and why the same verse emphasises that there is no
faithfulness, loyalty of knowledge of God “in the land.” These defects
(and the crimes mentioned in :) are the more serious, because they
occur in the land that belongs to Yhwh. Moreover, if the Israelites in this
land fail to live in accordance with his will, Yhwh’s land must bear the
consequences and suffer (:).

() Similarly, “Yhwh’s land” in : sheds light on the enigmatic “the land
has fornicated” in :.54 Of course, the land in a geographical sense can
only fornicate insofar as the people living in it do so (cf. also :–).
Yet the text attributes fornication to the land, because one of the most
offensive aspects of this sin is that it is committed in Yhwh’s land. In other
words, it is done in the very place in which the Israelites are expected to
live with him, as faithfully as a wife in her husband’s house (cf. :).55

() Restoration of the proper relationship between Yhwh, the land and
the people of Israel will only be possible by the people leaving the land
(:–; :–).56 Only after this judgment has materialised, Yhwh will
grant his people a fixed place in his land and secure their prosperity and
safety (:, –).

54 Note that the charge of fornication (äðæ) recurs just before :, viz. in :.
55 If this view is correct, it makes other attempts to account for õøàä as the subject of
äðæ superfluous, e.g. that the metaphor requires a feminine subject, that õøàä refers to the
Canaanite lifestyle of Israel, or that it is related to the Canaanite idea of the land as the
mother goddess; cf., e.g. Van Gelderen, Hosea, ; Jeremias, Hosea, –.
56 On Hos :–, see further G. Kwakkel, “Exile in Hosea :–: Where and for What

Purpose?,” in Exile and Suffering: A Selection of Papers Read at the th Anniversary
Meeting of the Old Testament Society of South Africa OTWSA/OTSSA Pretoria August
 (ed. B. Becking and D. Human; OtSt []; Leiden ), –.
 THE LAND IN THE PSALMS*

Patrick D. Miller

God’s provision of place for individual and community is one of the

dominant themes of the Psalter. It is found in the many metaphors
depicting the freeing of persons who cry out because they are caught
or bound and in the language about refuge and stronghold, a rock on
which to stand firm, a broad place free of the restraints of the enemy’s
net, snare, trap, or rock. For the community, that place of freedom and
openness is—as elsewhere in Scripture—especially manifest in the gift of
land. The provision of land is a matter that comes to the fore in various
ways in the Psalms but especially in two contexts. As is to be expected,
one of those is where the story of Israel is to the fore. The other is where
the teaching or instructional dimension of the Psalms is emphasized.

. The Story of the Land

The so-called “historical psalms” (Pss , , , , ), not surpris-
ingly, provide the primary contexts in which Israel’s story is recapitulated
in the Psalms. It is evident from any reading of them that God’s gift of the
land to the people is the central if not climactic moment of that story, even
when it is mentioned only briefly in the midst of or at the end of a more
extended and detailed narrative of things on the way to the land or after
its settlement.
Psalm  recapitulates the story at some length with heavy focus on
the various ways the people tested the Lord and sinned against the God
who had delivered them. The culmination of that part of the story does
not come until deeply into the psalm:
 And he brought them to his holy hill,
to the mountain that his right hand had won.

* It is a privilege and a pleasure to dedicate this essay to Ed Noort, friend and

colleague, whose infectious spirit and wonderful mind have given me so much through
the years.
 patrick d. miller

 He drove out nations before them;

he apportioned them for a possession
and settled the tribes of Israel in their tents.

The story does not end at this point because, as the following verses say
forthrightly, the people continued to test the Most High God, by not
observing God’s decrees, setting up high places, and provoking the anger
and jealousy of God with idols. So the Lord moved against them again
until finally choosing Judah and providing a shepherd, David, to guide
the people Israel, the Lord’s inheritance (Ps :). The point of the story
is given at the beginning of the psalm, where its pedagogical function is
made clear and the echoes of Deuteronomy are first heard: “Give ear, O
my people, to my teaching (éúøåú)” (Ps :). As prescribed in Deuteron-
omy , , and elsewhere, the story is now told to the children that they
might not “forget the works of the Lord but keep his commandments”
(Ps :) and not be like their ancestors, “a stubborn and rebellious gener-
ation” (Ps :).1 At that point, the story begins (Ps :), and it is clearly
a story of the stubborn and rebellious generations who have gone before
and have not lived in the land as they were supposed to, that is, by observ-
ing the decrees (Ps :), keeping God’s covenant and walking accord-
ing to “his law” (Ps :; cf. Ps :, –). The land is not the subject
of extended story-telling. It is the covenantal gift of God, and it is to be
the space of covenantal obedience, living by the decrees and teaching of
the one who has provided the gift. For all future generations, this is the
lesson to be learned from this story.
The role of the land as gift and locus of obedience to the laws and
teaching of the Lord is carried forward in the other historical psalms.
Both Psalms  and  retell the Lord’s story with Israel, good and
bad, as acts of praise (Pss :–; :–). What follows in Psalm 
is a description of “the Lord our God,” heavily if not entirely in terms
of the covenant/promise with Abraham and confirmed with Jacob/Israel
(Ps :–). The Lord’s part of that covenant is very specific: “To
you I will give the land of Canaan as your portion for an inheritance”
(Ps :). All that follows is the story of the Lord’s care of the people
on the way to the realization of the covenantal gift—slavery in Egypt, the

1 The language “stubborn and rebellious” (äøîå øøåñ) so clearly reflects Deuteronomy

, where the expression occurs twice (Deut :, ; cf. Jer :), that any reader
familiar with Deuteronomic law would see here the depiction of the earlier generations
as stubborn and rebellious sons, to be punished as was the case with a stubborn and
rebellious son in the Deuteronomic Code.
 the land in the psalms 

exodus, and wandering in the wilderness (Ps :–). The conclusion

of that story is as follows:
 For he remembered his holy promise,
and Abraham, his servant.
 So he brought his people out with joy,
his chosen ones with singing.
 He gave them the lands of the nations,
and they took possession of the wealth of the peoples,
 That they might keep his statutes
and observe his laws.
Praise the Lord.

Several aspects of this ending are to be noted:

(a) As a kind of inclusio to underscore what the psalm is about, the

opening notes are reiterated in the conclusion: the joy of the people in
musical praise (Ps :, ) and the promise to Abraham (Ps :–,
).

(b) The character of the land as gift and blessing for Israel is reflected in
the verse identifying the “lands of the nations” as the Lord’s gift, which
included “the wealth of the peoples” (Ps :).

(c) The psalm reaches its “So what” point in the final verse where one
learns that the whole purpose of this promise-gift, that is, the land and
wealth, is that the people “might keep his statutes and observe his laws”
(Ps :).
Throughout the Psalms, the land is God’s gift with a double function.
The one highlighted here in the climax of the psalm and reiterated
frequently elsewhere is the land as the place where Israel lives as God’s
people, that is, by following the Lord’s teaching. The land is where the
Lord’s way is to be demonstrated and kept. The other function of this
gift—the land as the place of God’s blessing—is also present in the
conclusion to Psalm  with its reference to the wealth of the nations
coming to Israel when it receives God’s gift of the land.
The story of the Lord and Israel has been told in Psalm  from
one perspective, indeed the first and primary angle for all future readers
and singers of the Psalms, that is, in terms of God’s goodness to and
care of Israel. That is not the whole story, however, as we have already
learned from Psalm . So it continues in Psalm , this time with the
 patrick d. miller

heavy weight on Israel’s sins against the Lord from the beginning but
continuing on down to the present. The psalm is a kind of confession
of sin as the grounds for petitioning God’s help in the present (Ps :–
, ). Emblematic of that sin is the peoples’ rejection of the pleasant
land that was God’s gift to them (Ps :; cf. Numbers ). Here the
land is problem, not gift, the context in which the people tested the
Lord and evoked God’s fierce anger. The story of the land in this psalm
is about its being desecrated and “polluted” (Ps :) by the people’s
disobedience and capitulation to the ways and gods of the peoples in the
land.
There is an anticipatory note sounded at the beginning of Psalm ,
which does not mention the land, but in light of its double function
mentioned above is relevant for the psalmic vision of the land:
Happy are those who observe justice,
who do righteousness at all times (v. )
The verse sets the way of èôùî (“justice”) and ä÷ãö (“righteousness”)
both as a response to the “mighty doings of the Lord” and as a source
of blessing or happiness. It anticipates the story that follows by showing
the proper way of the people on the land: observing (øîù) justice and
doing (äùò) righteousness at all times. The opening of the psalm is thus
a response to the conclusion of Psalm , which has identified the land
as the place for the people to “keep his statutes” and “observe his laws.”
In both psalms the resonances with Deut :– are evident.
 See, just as the Lord my God has charged me, I now teach you statutes and
ordinances for you to observe in the land that you are about to enter and
occupy.
 You must observe them diligently, for this will show your wisdom and
discernment to the peoples, who, when they hear all these statutes, will
say, “Surely this great nation is a wise and discerning people!”
 For what other great nation has a god so near to it as the Lord our God is
whenever we call to him?
 And what other great nation has statutes and ordinances as just as this
entire law that I am setting before you today?
The laws/statutes/ordinances taught to Israel are “just” (íé÷éãö) in the
eyes of the nations, but Israel’s “wisdom and discernment” is found not
only in the character of the laws Moses has taught the people. It is evident
when they “observe them diligently” (íúéùòå íúøîùå), that is, “observe
them and do them.” Psalm  is about the breakdown of this heritage,
the absence of such justice and righteousness in the land. The outcome,
 the land in the psalms 

as the psalm makes clear, is the loss of the land and the dependence of
the people once more on the compassion and steadfast love of the Lord
(v. ), to which the psalm appeals in its last verses.
The use of the word éøùà (= “happy”) in verse , meaning something
along the lines of “to be envied,” lets the reader know that this way on
the land has rich results.2 If the land becomes the place where the “just”
laws of the Lord are obeyed “all the time,” it will also show its character
as the place where life is good and to be envied. There is a kind of serious
pragmatism here in the recognition that justice and righteousness are not
simply virtues expounded through the statutes and ordinances, the laws
given and taught. Following these laws in fact works better and produces
positive results, a life that is to be envied. The verse thus ties together
the two functions identified here as central to the land as context in the
Psalms: the place of gifted and effected blessing and the place where the
way of the Lord is kept.
As in the case of Psalms  and , Psalms – tell the story of
the land as praise of God. Once again the gift of the land is the climax3
of that story and the ground of praise, both psalms using the similar
formulations:
And gave their land as a heritage,
a heritage to his people Israel. (Ps :)
And gave their land as a heritage,
for his steadfast love endures forever;
a heritage to his servant Israel,
for his steadfast love endures forever. (Ps :–)
While the historical psalms tell the story in detail and set the gift of the
land as the culmination of the Lord’s actions in behalf of Israel, there
are other places where that story is in view, even if only with a passing
sentence. In Psalm :– [–], the Deuteronomic perspective is once
more in the air:
 We have heard with our ears, O God,
our ancestors have told us,

2 For this interpretation of the word éøùà, see W. Janzen, “"ašrê in the Old Testament,”

HTR  () –, esp. .

3 Note for example, the language of Leslie Allen: “The death of Egypt’s firstborn . . .

serves as a preface to the highlight of Yahweh’s demonstration of power for Israel in vv. –
, which makes use of :–: his defeat of massive opposition and his consequent
presentation of the land to his own people as pledge of the covenant.” Of Ps :–, he
writes: “It brings to a climax this catalogue of themes of grace” (Psalms –, [WBC,
; Waco ], , ).
 patrick d. miller

what deed you performed in their days,

in the days of old:
 you with your own hand dispossessed nations,
but them you planted;4
you afflicted the peoples,
but them you set free;5
 for not by their own sword did they gain possession (ùøé) of the land,
nor did their own arm give them victory;
but your right hand, and your arm,
and the light of your countenance,
for you delighted in them.
As the psalm tells the story of God’s marvelous deed of old, the example
is not just an example; it is the point of the whole covenant and God’s
dealings with Israel. What is underscored so often in these psalms, that
the land is God’s covenantal gift to Israel, is here articulated in a different
way. The people are reminded of their reliance on God and their inability
to acquire the land apart from God’s power. As Moses tells the people not
to think that their hand and their arm are the primary factors in their
acquisition of wealth but it is God who gives the power to get wealth
(Deut :–), so now Psalm  remembers that it was not the hand
and sword of the Israelites that possessed the land. Rather it was God’s
power and God’s arm.
Finally, one may mention the passage in Psalm :– [–], which
echoes Judg :– and the depiction of the divine warrior marching with
the people through the wilderness to bring them into the land.
 Rain in abundance, O God, you showered abroad;
you restored your heritage when it languished;
 your flock found a dwelling in it;
in your goodness, O God, you provided for the needy.
The land, here äìçð, “heritage,” is characterized by the goodness of God,
evident in two features, abundant rain to make the land rich and pro-
ductive and God’s care for the needy. The land is thus God’s provision for
human need. The term éðò is broad in meaning ranging from the explic-
itly poor in substance to those who are humble and righteous. That the

4 It is possible, of course, that the antecedent of the pronoun “them” is the nations

rather than the ancestors, but the focus is on the “deed” of giving the land.
5 Here also it is possible to read the verb íçìùúå as referring to the Lord sending out

the peoples mentioned in the preceding colon.

 the land in the psalms 

former are in view here, even if not exclusively, is evident from the earlier
identification of God as “father of orphans and protector of widows . . .
[who] gives the desolate a home to live in; he leads out the prisoners to
prosperity” (Ps :– [–]).6 The land is dwelling for God’s “flock,” who
are the éðò in all senses of the term.

. To Possess the Land—Psalm 

The immediately preceding psalms raise the question of how it is one

comes into possession of the land and who it is who possesses or inherits
it. Both those questions are central to Psalm , a wisdom psalm that
picks up and reiterates the themes from the introductory Psalm  but
does so now in the context of the land and its possession. The ways of the
righteous and of the wicked are to the fore, but those ways are examined
in relation to the poor and needy and to the land. The “land” (õøà) is
referred to explicitly six times in the psalm (Ps :, , , , , ),
and it is signaled also in the use of äìçð, “portion” or “heritage” (Ps :).
Five of the six uses of õøà, “land” are in the idiom õøà ùøé, “possess (the)
land,” and the sixth instance refers to dwelling (ïëù) in the land (Ps :).
The psalm has been characterized as speaking to those “who look to God
for legal justice that will secure their claim to land”7
With an initial assurance to the reader not to worry too much about
the wicked, and—especially—not to be envious of them, the psalmist sets
the basic tone and content of the psalm in verse :
Trust in the Lord, and do good;
Dwell (ïëù) in the land and eat in security.

As Ellen Davis has noted, “this poet uses images designed to evoke a
farmer’s experience in order to create a solid foundation for hope.”8 One
of the most vivid of those images is in the final clause of this verse, which
literally is “graze on faith/faithfulness,” showing the “concreteness of the
psalmist’s vision, offered to people whose food supply is in jeopardy.”9 The

6 The term úåøùåë is a hapax legomenon whose meaning is uncertain. It may come

from the root øùë and have to do with prosperity, but it also may reflect some kind of
skill, possibly music.
7 E. Davis, Scripture, Culture, and Agriculture: An Agrarian Reading of the Bible (New

York ), .

8 Ibid., .
9 Ibid., .
 patrick d. miller

second line may be understood as an outcome of the first.10 In this psalm,

the focus is not on the initial acquisition of the land or on its particular
definition. It is on the land as land, God’s covenantal gift as the place for
lively and flourishing existence, in this case attentive to the disparity in
people’s access to its benefits. Again in resonance with the Deuteronomic
perspective, doing good is the key to continued and fruitful life in the
land, the specifics of which continue to be elaborated in the psalm as
they are throughout Deuteronomy.11 That involves especially reiteration
of the need to trust in the Lord and not worry about the wicked. The two
are brought together, once more in specific reference to the land as both
gift and place for doing the Lord’s way in verse  as the readers are given
reason not to be angry or vexed at the wicked:
For the wicked shall be cut off,
but those who wait for the Lord—they shall possess the land.
While the psalmist assures the reader that the wicked shall fade and
wither (Ps :) or be cut off, he or she also elaborates the corollary of
that, with respect to the land. The issue is the provision of life, and that
is dependent upon the opposite of wickedness, that is, doing good, and
upon existing in a constant trust in the Lord. To “wait for the Lord” is not
a matter of patience, though that may be required. It is a confidence and
hope in the Lord’s involvement to “make your vindication shine like the
light, and the justice of your cause like the noonday” (Ps :). Both the
activity of doing good and the stance of hopeful trust are characteristics
that determine whether or not the land that provides the context for
fruitful existence is yours. All of this is then reiterated near the end of
the psalm in verse :
Wait for the Lord, and keep to his way,
and he will exalt you to possess the land;
when the wicked are cut off, you will see it.
After a reiteration of the demise of the wicked in verse , the anonymous
reader is then identified in verse :

10 See the discussion in J. Goldingay, Psalms. Volume : Psalms – (Baker Commen-

tary on the Old Testament Wisdom and Psalms; Grand Rapids ): “The second colon
then continues the imperatives, but they represent the kind of imperatives that indicate
the result of a previous imperative and thus offer a concealed promise. If you trust in
Yhwh and do good, then you will dwell in the land and feed on truthfulness” ().
11 On “good” as a “favorite theme in Deuteronomy,” see W. Brueggemann, “The

Kerygma of the Deuteronomistic Historian,” Int  () .

 the land in the psalms 

But the weak (íéåðò) shall possess the land,

and delight themselves in abundant prosperity.
As in Psalm , the dwellers on the land are the poor and the weak. These
are also those who wait on the Lord. The term åðò encompasses the poor
and the faithful who are afflicted by the deeds of the wicked. The “you”
who will possess the land are the weak and needy, the vulnerable,12 who
throughout the psalm are called to hope and trust in the Lord. That such
persons are also therefore among the righteous and not the wicked is
confirmed in verses –:
 The wicked borrow and do not pay back,
but the righteous are generous and keep giving;
 For those blessed by the Lord shall inherit the land,
but those cursed by him shall be cut off.
There is a synonymity between the righteous and those who are blessed
by the Lord.13 Their blessing is a consequence of their conduct but also
the gift of possessing the land and enjoying its “abundant prosperity.” In
verses –, the same message is sounded:
 The Lord knows the days of the blameless,
and their heritage/portion will abide forever;
 they are not put to shame in evil times,
in the days of famine they have abundance.
And finally, in verse , the psalmist says unequivocally that it is the
righteous who shall “possess the land and live in it forever.”
While the citation is specifically of verse , Jesus’ beatitude in Mat-
thew :—“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth (or
“land”),”—incorporates all of these references to the possession or inher-
itance of the land and the ones who receive it and enjoy it as God’s gift.
The term åðò in verse , best captures the combination of lowly/weak
and trustful/righteous, but the whole of the psalm makes the point and
functions as Old Testament commentary on the beatitude.14

12 So Ellen Davis, who sees the term íéåðò here as referring to those who are “trapped in

a killing system that still appears to be strong though it has already far outreached itself ”
(Scripture, Culture, and Agriculture, ).
13 The term “righteous” here and elsewhere in the psalm, e.g. Ps :, , is probably

a technical term “denoting those who have legal rights, even if they are currently being
violated” (Davis, Scripture, Culture, and Agriculture, ).
14 The wisdom character of this psalm is underscored when it is compared with Prov

:–, which is a kind of summary of Psalm :

 patrick d. miller

. How to Live in the Land: The Fear of the Lord

What Psalm  elaborates in some detail and with much repetition is

recognized by the psalmist elsewhere especially in the different ways the
land is understood to be the locale, the space, of those who fear the Lord.
The fear of the Lord is one of the characteristic modes of expressing the
first commandment in positive form.15 It embodies all that is meant by
that commandment. Much like Deuteronomy, the Psalms assume in all
their many forms that there is a tight connection between the provision
of the land and its blessings and the full and unreserved obedience to
the Giver of the land.16 It is almost impossible to speak about the land
without reference to its being the place where the worship of the Lord is at
the center. In that respect, the different allusions to the land in the Psalms
are encapsulations of the larger story of the movement of the people from
Egypt to the land by way of Sinai. Several instances make that evident.
Nowhere is the direct connection between enjoyment of the land and
its fruitfulness more evident than in Psalm :–:
 Who are they that fear the Lord?
He will teach them the way that they should choose.
 They will abide in prosperity (áåè),
and their children shall possess the land.
 The friendship (ãåñ) of the Lord is for those who fear him,
and he makes his covenant known to them.

 Therefore walk in the way of the good,

and keep to the paths of the just.
 For the upright will abide (ïëù) in the land,
and the innocent will remain in it;
 but the wicked will be cut off from the land,
and the treacherous will be rooted out of it.
15 See, e.g. Deut :–: “The Lord your God you shall fear; him you shall serve,
and by his name alone you shall swear. Do not follow other gods, any of the gods of the
peoples who are all around you, because the Lord your God who is present with you, is a
jealous God.” For an extended discussion of the fear of the Lord as a Deuteronomic and
Psalmic form of the First Commandment in positive mode, see P.D. Miller, “The Psalms
as a Meditation on the First Commandment”, in P.D. Miller, The Way of the Lord: Essays
in Biblical Theology (FAT ; Tübingen  and Grand Rapids ), –, esp. –
and –.
16 For the intimate connections between Deuteronomy and Psalms, see the essay cited

in the previous note and P.D. Miller, “Deuteronomy and Psalms: Evoking a Biblical
Conversation,” JBL  () – (Reprinted in P.D. Miller, Israelite Religion and
Biblical Theology [JSOTSup ; Sheffield: ], –, esp. –).
 the land in the psalms 

The Deuteronomic themes around the land are all here.17 The good
that comes to those who fear the Lord and follow in God’s teaching is
found on the land. It is the source of life. There is no good apart from it.
The prosperity that is the fruit of the land, however, is wrapped in and
dependent upon a way of life. That is, there is a kind of pragmatism that
is always a part of the law or teaching of Scripture. Living by the teaching
and counsel of the Lord is the way things work. Indeed the “teaching”
found in the commandments together with the statutes and ordinances
of the legal codes of the Pentateuch is intended to show how people live so
that the land is protected (e.g. Exod :–; Lev :–; Deut :–
) and all may enjoy its good (e.g. Exod :–; Deuteronomy ).18
While the covenant is an obligation, it is also an arrangement, a mutual
agreement of mutual benefit. The covenant is the social process by which
the people may live well on the land.
The communal prayer for help in Psalm  is bracketed by a focus on
the land, suggesting that the problem reflected in the lament of verses –
[–] has to do with the failure of the land to yield its expected produce.
One interpreter has suggested on the basis of the last part of the psalm
that “the crisis concerns the failure of the harvest.”19 Generally ascribed
to the (early) post-exilic period, the psalm begins by recalling the earlier
favor and delight of the Lord in “your land” and “your people” (Ps :–
[–]) as the basis for pleading for restoration once again (Ps :– [–
]). In the final part of the psalm the announcement of salvation is given
in indirect speech:
 Let me hear what God the Lord will speak,
for he will speak of well-being
to his people, to his faithful ones,
and let them not turn back to folly.
 Surely his salvation is near to those who fear him,
so that honor (ãåáë) may dwell in our land.20

17 For discussion of the theology of the land in the book of Deuteronomy, see P.D. Mil-

ler, Deuteronomy (Interpretation; Louisville ), –.

18 One should recognize that it is not simply statutes dealing with protecting the land

or providing for the weak that reflect the law’s pragmatic character. That is true of all the
legal material. As a whole, it is to guide the people as to how they can live in freedom and
enjoy good.
19 J. Goldingay, Psalms. Volume : Psalms – (Baker Commentary on the Old

Testament Wisdom and Psalms; Grand Rapids ), .

20 While most interpreters assume that ãåáë refers to the glory of God, John Goldingay

makes a persuasive case for seeing the term here as more likely referring to “the people’s
 patrick d. miller

 Steadfast love and faithfulness meet;

righteousness and well-being kiss.
 Faithfulness from the earth springs up;
and righteousness from the heavens looks down.21
 The Lord also gives good things (áåè),
and our land yields its produce.
 Righteousness goes before him,
as he sets his feet on the way.22

It is in some sense a picture of the peaceable kingdom, an idyllic descrip-

tion of a place where truth, justice, and prosperity endure. As verse 
tells us, the pre-condition of such an existence is the fear of the Lord, and
the place or context for its manifestation is “our land.” Where life is lived
in the fear of the Lord, prosperity or well-being break forth; the Lord will
give good things (áåè), which means concretely that the land will yield
its increase, its produce. The psalm is a powerful description, ultimately
eschatological in its force, of a place where God’s salvation is enacted and
where all the virtues of love and faithfulness, justice and righteousness are
manifest. This vision, however, is not finally other-worldly. The space for
such a life is “our land,” and the vision is not complete apart from the good
that God gives from the land to provide for human existence. This king-
dom is real, and its primary features are love, peace, faithfulness, righ-
teousness, and the fruits of the land that make life possible and good.23
A similar note is sounded in another communal prayer, Psalm . Here
also the psalm refers to a time when the Lord became angry at the people
(cf. Ps : []), in this instance manifest in part by tearing the earth open.
“Yhwh has made a wilderness of the land he had given as his ‘good’ land,
and he has pressed his own people as hard as once Pharaoh had done (cf.
Exod :; :; Deut :) and almost destroyed them.”24 As in the case

success and good reputation (cf. Ps : []) that are presently lose in their calamity”
(Psalms, :).
21 The tense reference of verses – [–] is unclear.
22 It is possible that “righteousness” is the subject of the verb in the second colon of

this verse.
23 The repetition of íåìù (Ps :,  [, ]) and its ambiguity of meaning reflected

in the different translation possibilities are pointers to this combination of the human
virtues and the human needs in the psalm’s announcement of salvation. Note the trans-
lation “peace” in the New Revised Standard Version, while the New Jewish Publication
Society Translation uses “well-being” in both instances.
24 E. Zenger in E. Zenger and F.-L. Hossfeld, Psalms  (Hermeneia; Minneapolis ),

.
 the land in the psalms 

of Psalm , the way out is through the fear of the Lord. Here the petition
is for a banner for “those who fear you.” Safety and deliverance is found
for land and people who fear the Lord.
The fear of the Lord is prerequisite for enjoyment of the land in Pss
: [] and :–. In the former, there is no explicit reference to
“land,” but God’s gift is “the possession of those who fear your name,”
clearly implying the land. Possession of the land is a topos for God’s
salvific action, an answer to prayer.25 The focus of Psalm  is on the
blessing that comes to those who fear the Lord, who “delight” in the Lord’s
commandments (see Ps :). That blessing is couched entirely in terms
of the land, which will provide wealth and riches and honor—“Their
descendants will be mighty in the land”—but that benefit is not simply
acquisition. It carries with it an obligation, here spoken of generally
as “righteousness” but more specifically in terms of readiness to lend
and conducting their affairs justly (Ps :). Once again the pragmatic
dimension of this way of living on the land is indicated as the text says
that “it goes well/good (áåè)” with the one or ones who share the blessing
that comes to them from the land in an equitable fashion.
Finally, a word about the king and the land. There is a clear connection
between the king’s righteous reign and the flourishing of the land. This
is expressed both in terms of the king’s active care of the poor and the
needy and with regard to his resistance to the wicked in the land. Psalm
 includes among the several prayers for blessings upon the king the
prayer:
 May there be abundance of grain in the land,
at the top of the mountains;
may its fruit wave like the Lebanon;
and may people blossom in the cities like the grass of the land.

This prayer, however, and all the prayers of the psalm for prosperity,
dominion, tribute, and homage are tied to the one responsibility of the
king signaled in the psalm:

25 Cf. Psalm , especially vv. –, which are permeated with language having to do

with the land and its allotment. As I have suggested elsewhere the language of these verses
“may be metaphorical for the richness of life received from God or they may reflect
the actual receipt of a rich and valuable allotment of land” (“Annotations,” The Harper
Collins Study Bible [New York ], ). These, of course, do not have to be either/or
interpretations, as this essay has sought to suggest. There is no reference to fear of the
Lord in Psalm , but its substance is there in the opening verses, where the psalmist
claims such a stance but more in the language of the Decalogue: “I say to the Lord, ‘You
are my Lord, my good; there is none above/beside you’.”
 patrick d. miller

 For (éë) he delivers the needy who cry out,

the weak and those who have no helper.
 He cares about the poor and the needy,
and saves the lives of the needy.
 From oppression and violence he redeems their life
and precious is their blood in his sight.
Psalm :– echoes other psalms discussed above as it claims that those
who consider the poor are to be envied, regarded as happy in the land.
Psalm  hangs all the blessings of the land and life on the land upon the
activity of the king to “save the lives of the needy.”26 Then in Psalm  we
hear the voice of the king affirming in no uncertain terms that his favor
will be upon the faithful in the land, and he will destroy the wicked in the
land (Ps :–).27
The voices of the psalmists do not offer a different perspective on
the land than what one finds elsewhere in Scripture. On the contrary,
they echo Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomistic History but also many
other parts of the Old Testament. Indeed, the subject confirms once
more Martin Luther’s description of the Psalter as a kind of little Bible,
one that encapsulates all the central themes and concerns of Scripture
within its particular genres and through its various voices. The land is
God’s gift, the place for life in its abundance. It is also and at the same
time the space in which the people of God follow the way of the Lord.
These two dimensions are so intertwined they cannot even be conceived
of apart from one another. The Psalms remind us also that, as Robert
Frost put it in his poem “The Gift Outright”: “The deed of gift was many
deeds of war.” So Israel then and now, but not Israel alone, lives with
the incongruity of how possession of the gift and its benefits can take
place without dispossession of the land from others whose existence is
also dependent upon it. The Psalms remind us that ownership and use
of the land are communal and not individual, that our life and death on
the land are with our neighbor, and that it is “your land” (Ps :; cf. Lev
:) and not just “our land” (Ps :,).28 There is a way to receive
the gift and to enjoy it. It is the Lord’s way, the way of the righteous.

26 See the more extended discussion of the responsibility of the king for the poor in

P.D. Miller, “The Ruler in Zion and the Hope of the Poor: Psalms – in the Context of
the Psalter”, in Miller, The Way of the Lord, –.
27 Cf. Psalm :.
28 Miller, Deuteronomy, .
 REVERSAL OF A MOTIF:
“THE LAND IS GIVEN INTO THE HAND OF THE WICKED.”
THE GIFT OF LAND IN SOME WISDOM TEXTS*

Emke Jelmer Keulen

. Introduction

In the introduction of his inaugural lecture (Groningen ), Ed Noort

sketches the outlines of a theology of the land in several traditions of
Israel. He mentions the primeval history and the patriarchs, Deuteron-
omy and the Deuteronomistic History, the prophets, Ezra and Nehemia,
and some texts of Qumran. A variety of reflections on the land appears.1
In this list, a specific type of texts is, however, not mentioned, namely
Wisdom literature. This is as such not surprising, since the land does not
play an important role in it. However, the motif of the gift of the land is
used in Wisdom literature a few times. In Prov :–; : and Psalm
, it is said that the righteous will inherit the land and live in it (for-
ever) unlike the wicked.2 The gift of the land here belongs to the persons
who live an upright life. At one place, the use of this motif is rather strik-
ing: in Job :, Job complains that the land is given into the hand of the
wicked. Here, a broad tradition is radically broken. Whereas the gift of
the land has always somehow been related to a correct religious and/or
ethical behaviour in the Hebrew Bible, Job claims that, on the contrary,
the wicked receive the land.
It is the purpose of this contribution to consider the use of the motif
of the gift of the land in the above mentioned wisdom texts. The termi-
nology and the overtone of the occurrence of this motif in Deuteronomy
and the Deuteronomistic History can be heard in these texts. Therefore,
I first give a short survey of how Deuteronomi(sti)c texts deal with the

* I congratulate Ed Noort on his th birthday. I am most grateful for his stimulating

teaching and enjoyed working with him. His attention for the theological aspect within
the discipline of the exegesis of the Hebrew Bible inspired me in particular.
1 E. Noort, Een plek om te zijn (Kampen ), –.
2 Psalm  is generally held as a wisdom psalm. See for the motif “land for the

righteous” also Matt :.

 emke jelmer keulen

gift of the land as a background. Subsequently, the motif of the gift of the
land in Wisdom literature is elaborated upon in more detail.

. Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomistic History

The gift of the land is an important topic in Deuteronomy and the

Deuteronomistic History. They depict the land as a gift and relate it to the
law. A shift in the theology of the land can be observed between Deutero-
nomic and Deuteronomistic passages. Was the gift of the land uncondi-
tional, it becomes conditional.3 The Israelites are urged to observe God’s
statutes in the land they will enter to posses it. This will result in welfare
for them in the land.4 Subsequently, the gift of the land is connected to
the loyalty to God and to observing his commandments. The Israelites
are plucked off the land, if they forget the covenant with God and do
not keep his commandments, statutes, and judgements.5 With this, the
author(s)/redactor(s) of the Deuteronomistic History are able to explain
the catastrophe of the exile. Not observing the law is the reason for loos-
ing the gift of the land and being dispelled from it.
It is not the intention here to describe all details of the motif of the
gift of the land in the light of the complex genesis of Deuteronomy and
the Deuteronomistic History. What, however, attracts the attention as a
background for use of this motif in Wisdom literature is the fact that
the gift of the land is conditional in the concept of the Deuteronomistic
History.6 The land belongs to those who live an upright live. In the con-
cepts of Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomistic History, being upright
means: not leaving the covenant, not forgetting God, and following his
commandments, statutes, and judgements. In reverse, the gift of the land
is taken away from those who do not. So, there is a relation between a per-
son’s actions and what befalls them. The Deuteronomistic History applies
this pattern to a collective. The Israelites lost the land they had inherited
because they did not meet the conditions for possessing it: they forgot
the covenant and failed to observe God’s law.

3 L. Perlitt, “Motive und Sichten der Landtheologie im Deuteronomium,” in Das Land

Israel in biblischer Zeit: Jerusalem-Symposium  (ed. G. Strecker; Göttingen ), –
.
4 E.g. Deut :; :, ; :.
5 E.g. Deuteronomy .
6 I am aware of the fact that different redactions can be distinguished within the

Deuteronomistic History.
 reversal of a motif 

. The Gift of the Land in Wisdom Literature

The use of the motif of the gift of the land in Wisdom literature reminds of
its occurrence in Deuteronom(ist)ic texts. The verb ùøé returns, and the
gift of the land is conditional. The possession of the land depends on a
person’s way of living. However, the motif functions in a different context
in Wisdom literature. Deuteronom(ist)ic texts deal with the Israelites and
the gift of the land of Israel. This collective context fades away when the
motif of the gift of the land occurs in wisdom texts. Wisdom literature
particularly concentrates on the situation of the individual. It instructs
about how to live a good life. The basic assumption of these texts is
that there is a relation between way of living and fate of the individual.
Upright behaviour results in prosperity. Evildoers suffer misfortune. The
ownership of the land is one of the ways in which this pattern manifests
itself. The righteous will inherit the land, but the wicked will be cut
off from it. When some wisdom texts start to question the tenability
of the “theological” concept that understands the fate of human beings
according to such a pattern, a reversal of the motif of the gift of the land
can be found. Job states that the land is given into the hand of the wicked.7

.. Proverbs
The instruction in Proverbs  ends with the motif of the gift of the land.8
This chapter incites the son to take wisdom seriously. He should open his
heart for understanding in order to find the knowledge of God. God gives
wisdom and protects the blameless. This divine wisdom saves from the
way of evil. Evildoers forsake the path of righteousness. For this reason,
the son should keep the paths of the just. Subsequently, the motif of the
gift of the land is used in order to give a reason for living an upright way
of life and to motivate the son doing it:

: For the upright will dwell in the land

and the blameless will remain in it,

7 Job :.
8 Prov :–. Plöger thinks that Prov :– is an addition (O. Plöger, Sprüche
Salomos; Proverbia [BKAT ; Neukirchen ], ). Fox says that these verses were
probably preexisting proverbs. He is of the opinion that we can abstract a topos from
them, namely: “the righteous will abide in the land, and the wicked will be cut off from it”
(M.V. Fox, Proverbs –: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary [AB A;
New York ], ).
 emke jelmer keulen

: but the wicked will be cut off from the land
and the unfaithful will be rooted9 out of it.

The fates of the upright and the wicked are contrasted. They differ in who
will inhabit the land in the long run. The upright will dwell in it, but the
wicked will be cut off from it. The land has not to be given yet. The verbs
øúé and úøë depict as a starting point that both the righteous and the
wicked live in the land. The fact that one group remains in it and the
other is removed from it shows that the land is a gift.
Several scholars are of the opinion that the land refers to the land of
Israel.10 The righteous of the nation will remain in it, while the wicked
are sent in exile. However, it is the question to what extent this wisdom
instruction refers to the historical situation around the exile. The exile is
a national punishment, whereas Prov :– distinguishes individuals
within the nation and promises them appropriate fates.11 The instruction
of Proverbs  is not about the persistence of a nation in a land.12 It
addresses the individual persons and teaches them what helps to live a
good life and showing them the result of such a good life.13
To what does the expression “the upright will dwell in the land but the
wicked will be cut off from it’ ” refer? I include the other occurrence of
the motif of the gift of the land in Proverbs into it, namely Prov ::

: The righteous will not totter for ever,

but the wicked will not dwell in the land.

This statement is the part of a collection of sayings about wise and foolish,
righteous and wicked behaviour; and the results of it. These proverbs
deal with individual cases. The verses before Prov : describe the
fate of the righteous and the wicked. The righteous will live longer and
meet divine protection; the wicked will die prematurely.14 In Prov :,
“dwelling in the land” stands parallel to “not tottering for ever.” The

9 Reading the verb çñð cf. BHS.

10 Plöger, Sprüche Salomos, ; R.N. Whybray, Proverbs (NCB; London ), ;
W. McKane, Proverbs: A New Approach (OTL; London ), .
11 Cf. Fox, Proverbs, . He also excludes the prophetic concept of the “righteous

remnant” and the idea that the remnant of Israel will be purified and become righteous.
12 See also Fox, Proverbs, .
13 See also E.W. Tuinstra, Spreuken: Deel  (De Prediking van het Oude Testament;

Baarn ), .

14 Prov :–.
 reversal of a motif 

expression èåî­ìá is used parallel to “not meeting trouble (òø)” and

God’s protecting presence.15 So, dwelling in the land has to do with not
meeting trouble; living a life in prosperity. Fox translates õøà with “earth.”
In his comment on Prov :, he takes õøà as “this world” and explains
the motif in the way that the righteous will live (long) and the wicked
will die (prematurely).16 The life-span is indeed an important topic when
the fates of the righteous and the wicked are mentioned. The context
of Prov : shows this clearly. However, the meaning of “dwelling in
the land” can be sketched broader than this difference in life-span. In
Prov :, the person who listens to Wisdom will dwell securely without
disaster. As “dwelling in the land” also stands parallel to “not tottering,” it
expresses a secure, prosperous future without trouble and under divine
protection.17 At this stand, the “dwelling in the land” detached itself
from the reference to the land of Israel. It puts into words a future of
welfare for each individual who lives an upright life; the wicked will
lack this perspective. The land is the place where the righteous can stay
undisturbed. Taking õøà as “this world” might be a step too far. In my
judgement, the motif of the gift of the land in Proverbs has not focused
on the earth being allocated to the righteous and taken away from the
wicked yet. It concentrates more on the destiny of individual persons. If
they live a righteous life inspired by wisdom teachings, they may count
on a prosperous future.

.. Psalm 
Psalm  expresses an encouragement of the faithful. It urges the faithful
not to envy the (apparent) prosperity of the wicked. They should remain
trusting in God and doing well.18 The foundation of this encouragement
is a nearby future situation. The psalmist assures that the evildoers will
soon perish and the faithful will inherit the land. This prospect should
keep the righteous going. The gift of the land is an important motif in
Psalm . It is introduced in the Psalm with an imperative:

:b dwell in the land . . .

15 Ps :; :.
16 Fox, Proverbs, .
17 R.E. Murphy, Proverbs (WBC ; Nashville ), .
18 C.A.J. Vos, “A Hermeneutical-Homiletic Reading of Psalm  with Reference to

H.J.C. Pieterse’s Homiletics,” Verbum et Ecclesia  () –.

 emke jelmer keulen

Subsequently, the Psalm holds out the prospective of the inheritance of

the land to the faithful four times. The faithful are characterised in these
verses as those who wait for the Lord, the meek, those who God blesses,
and the righteous. Their part is as follows:

:, , ,  they will inherit the land

Finally, the Psalm mentions the gift of the land in the context of an appeal:

: Wait for the Lord

and observe his ways,
and he will exalt you to inherit the land,
you will see when the wicked are cut off.

The imperative of ïëù in Ps :b is striking. In Ps :, the faithful are

urged to trust in the Lord, do well, and dwell in the land, whereas the land
is promised as a future inheritance later on in the Psalm. Two possible
interpretations of this imperative are found among scholars: either it is
a warning for not leaving the land which would be a sign of disloyalty
to the Lord, who has given the land, or it can be read as a promise.19
Both interpretations might play a role in this imperative. If dwelling in the
land refers to living an undisturbed life without trouble and under divine
protection,20 the imperative can be understood as urging the faithful to
live their current life in a righteous way and with remaining trust in God.
This is what is said in Ps :a: trust the Lord and do well. The faithful
should go on living their life in a good way, because it will be rewarded;
the land will be theirs as the Psalm elaborates upon further on in it. So,
the imperative of ïëù suggests the faithful to persevere in their current
life and have some patience.
The psalmist repeats, as already indicated, several times that the faith-
ful will inherit the land (Ps :, , , , ). He uses the verb ùøé.
This verb is frequently used in Deuteronomy in order to express that the
Israelites will inherit the land. In Psalm , the prospect of inheriting
the land is each time contrasted with the fate of the wicked. They will be
cut off and perish (Ps :–, , , ).21 The faithful are those who

19 F.L. Hossfeld and E. Zenger, Die Psalmen: Psalm – (NEchtB; Würzburg ),

. Zenger favours the second one.

20 See § ..
21 Brueggemann points out that the term ùøé is most at home in the world of large

land conquest and the term úøë is most used in terms of cultic exclusion or military
 reversal of a motif 

are generous and give. They speak wisdom and justice. God’s law is in
their hearts (Ps :, –). The wicked, on the other hand, do evil.
They harm the upright and the week. They borrow and do not pay back
(Ps :, , , ). The gift of the land belongs to the faithful, the righ-
teous. This heritage will be for ever (Ps :, –). It is the result of
their upright way of life. With this, the Psalm assumes clearly that there
is a relation between a person’s behaviour and what befalls them. It is the
basis for the Psalm’s appeal to keep trusting in God and observing his
laws. For this way of life will be rewarded later on. This way of thinking
implies that human beings have their fate in their own hand. The attitude
in life determines one’s future. Even though God is not always mentioned
explicitly, he is supposed to be the acting one behind this order. The Lord
gives you the desires of your heart, he protects the righteous, and he exalts
them to inherit the land (Ps :, –, ; see also Ps :–, –).
The righteous receive the gift of the land out of God’s hand.
Yet, the issue of Psalm  is the span of time for this being realised.
Apparently, some righteous suffer and some wicked prosper. This may ask
for resentment among the righteous, because their legitimate share seems
to be withheld from them (Ps :, ). It may even cause doubt on God’s
righteous acting, because he does not give the land to the righteous as he
should do. The Psalm solves this problem by claiming that the prosperity
of the wicked is only temporary. It uses the expression èòî ãåò for this.
“A little while” and the wicked will be no more (Ps :; see also Ps ::
äøäî [“soon”]). As a true wisdom teacher, the psalmist underlines this
claim with his own observations. In the course of his life, he has not seen
the righteous been forsaken (Ps :–; see also Ps :–). Thus,
the faithful should not loose their trust in God’s righteousness because of
the current prosperity of the wicked. God will do justice to the righteous
according to the Psalm. The wicked will be cut off and the righteous will
soon inherit the land.
In which situation has this Psalm functioned? Who are the faithful
and which land is meant? Some scholars think that the land refers to the
land of Israel.22 Others are of the opinion that the Psalm refers to poor

defeat. According to him, these terms together make the possession of the land of
enormous moment, both as threat and as possibility. See W. Brueggemann, “Psalm :
Conflict of Interpretation,” in Of Prophet’s Visions and the Wisdom Sages: Essays in Honour
of R. Norman Whybray on His Seventieth Birthday (ed. A. McKay and D.J.A. Clines;
JSOTSup ; Sheffield ), .
22 A.A. Anderson, Introduction and Psalms – (vol.  of The Book of Psalms; NCB;

London ), ; M.J. Dahood, Psalms I (AB ; Garden City ), .
 emke jelmer keulen

and those without property.23 As in Proverbs, it is also questionable to

what extent the motif of the gift of the land refers to the land of Israel
in Psalm . The Psalm does not struggle with a national issue, but deals
with the experience of individuals that in their eyes, the fate of human
beings does not always correspond with the way they have been living. A
righteous person is poor despite his good way of life. An evildoer has a
lot of possessions or a flourishing family. In my opinion, the Psalm is not
exclusively meant as an encouragement for the poor and those without
property. It addresses all who live an upright life, but meet trouble or
disaster in their life. Their welfare may be delayed, but it will certainly
come according to Psalm .
Brueggemann discusses whether Psalm  is to be read as “ideol-
ogy” either legitimating inequality, or simply establishing “deeds-conse-
quence” as a way of understanding public moral. Or as a promise and
guarantee of land for those who have no means and therefore as a crit-
ical assault on present land arrangements. According to Brueggemann,
both readings are possible. His point is that a person’s context influ-
ences the way of reading of the Psalm. He suggests that the resignation
of Qoheleth marks a transition that eventuated in the second, utopian
reading of Psalm , just as it destroyed the first, ideological reading.24
Even though it is true the context influences a person’s way of reading,
I am not sure whether Psalm  allows an ideological reading. The call
on the faithful not to envy the wicked because their success is only tem-
porally indicates that the reality in society was not conformable to the
“theological” concept. As the Psalm encourages the righteous suffering,
it also warns the wicked who now prosper and enjoy without care. Psalm
 is inspired by a similar issue as Qoheleth and the book of Job. All
face that daily practice does not fit with the theoretical worldview that
supposes that there is a relation between a person’s behaviour and what
befalls them. They deal with this issue each in their own way. The line of
thought in Psalm  can also be found in the book of Job.25 At a certain
point in the debate between Job and his friends, Job brings up as suffering
righteous that he is not the only in which a person’s fate does not corre-
spond with one’s way of life. Job states that there are evildoers who live a

23 Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalmen, ; K. Seybold, Die Psalmen (HAT .; Tübingen

), .
24 Brueggemann, “Psalm ,” –.
25 See also Brueggemann, “Psalm ,” ; Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalmen, ; Vos,

“Hermeneutical-Homiletic Reading,” .

 reversal of a motif 

prosperous life without calamity or setbacks.26 Whereas Job’s friends state

that the wicked enjoy their delight only for a short time and die a prema-
ture death,27 they do not perish according to Job’s observation. Psalm 
should be read in this context. It acknowledges Job’s observations as a
fact, but solves the tension between doctrine and reality more in the line
of Job’s friends; the suffering righteous will soon receive their legitimate
share.

.. The Reversal of the Motif: Job :

The book of Job questions the worldview that assumes that God rewards
an innocent person with prosperity and punishes a wicked one with
misfortune. Job  plays an important role in order to accomplish this.28 It
questions this worldview in an indirect way. In this speech of Job, Job
holds to his conviction that he is blameless. Since he suffers severely
even though he is righteous, Job can only conclude that God is acting
unjustly. For God should have given him prosperity instead of suffering.
This leads to a heavy charge against God that is carefully prepared in the
course of Job . Job starts pointing out God’s power in the creation. God’s
action is marvellous and unfathomable for human beings at the same
time.29 Job concludes from these attributes that God has the ability to
abuse his divine position; nobody can stop him or call him to account.30
Subsequently, Job introduces his own situation of blameless suffering.31
It proves that God perverts justice. A reversal of the motif of the gift of
the land serves to express this accusation against God.

: It is all one; therefore I say:

He destroys both the blameless and the wicked.
: The land (earth) is given into the hand of the wicked.
He covers the faces of its judges.
If it is not he, who then is it?32

26 Job :–.
27 Job :; :.
28 E.J. Keulen, God-Talk in the Book of Job: A Biblical Theological and Systematic The-

ological Study into the Book of Job and Its Relevance for the Issue of Theodicy (Groningen
), –. See also E. Noort, Een duister duel: Over de theologie van het boek Job (Serie
Kamper Cahiers ; Kampen ), –.
29 Job :–.
30 Job :–.
31 Job :.
32 For this reading see lxx.
 emke jelmer keulen

God acts unjustly in Job’s eyes treating the blameless and the wicked
equally: God destroys them both. This is morally wrong if God’s actions
are understood to be in accordance with the view that there is a relation
between a person’s actions and what befalls them.33 The charge even
increases. Job states that God favours the wicked above the blameless. A
broad tradition is turned around in Job’s mouth. The land always devolves
upon those who live an upright way of life and it is taken away from the
wicked and those who do not observe the law. But the land is given into
the hand of the wicked according to Job’s observations. God is not directly
the subject of the passive äðúð. However, this unjust situation can only
serve as an accusation against God. From :b onwards, Job depicts
God’s unrighteous actions. God treats the blameless and the wicked
equally; he mocks at the despair of the innocent when a flood brings
sudden death.34 This charging of God continues in :. The definition
of the land fades away in Job . In :b, Job states that God clouds the
judgement of the judges. The suffix ä- of äéèôù in :b refers to õøà
in :a. This remark breathes the atmosphere of a statement about the
general situation in the world. Therefore, õøà tends more to the meaning
“earth” in Job :. God has given the earth in the power of the wicked
and sabotages justice on it. The rhetorical question in :c makes the
reader face the seriousness of this charge. It can only be God.
The charge in :–, of which the motif of the gift of the land is a
part, is a decisive moment in the book of Job. The reader can not ignore
any longer that understanding God’s actions according to a retributive
thinking is problematic. Job holds God responsible for his misfortune.
He understands his misery as God’s accusation against him. The basis
of Job’s charge is his conviction that he is blameless. The narrator and
God confirm this claim in the prologue.35 Then, one can only conclude
that God treats Job unjustly. God is wicked. This conclusion is expressed
in the charge of :–. With this, the retributive thinking is called
into question, because it leads to a concept of God in which God acts
unjustly. A concept in which God can be thought as unrighteous is

33 Clines thinks that God’s response forms the gravamen of Job’s charge in Job :–

. According to him, it is not primarily God’s justice which is on trial in this speech, but
his sympathy and aloofness (D.J.A. Clines, Job – [WBC ; Dallas ], –).
However, in the light of the retributive thinking, which Job assumes in his reasoning,
God’s righteousness is on trial. For God denies the blameless their legitimate share by
treating them equally with the wicked.
34 Job :–.
35 Job :, ; :.
 reversal of a motif 

as such untenable. This impasse—the possibility that God is wicked—

is not surpassed in the subsequent dialogue of the book of Job; but it
does require a response. Yet, God’s answer from the whirlwind offers a
new perspective. In Job , Job uses a familiar motif in order to put his
rebellious charge into words. The reversal of the well known motif serves
to emphasise that God’s actions fully deviate from what the “theological”
tradition makes people believe. In Job’s eyes, God withholds the righteous
the land. This is clear evidence for God’s unrighteousness. So, the reversal
of the motif of the gift of the land plays an important role in order to cause
a decisive turn in the book of Job. What is more, it is used to question the
“theological” starting point that is also assumed by this traditional motif.

. Conclusions

The motif of the gift of the land is used to express the reward for a
righteous way of life in Wisdom literature. It refers to a secure, long,
and prosperous life. At the background, there is the development in
Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomistic History where the unconditional
gift of the land alters to a conditional one. These texts deal with the land
of Israel and the people of a nation. In Wisdom literature, the concrete
land of Israel fades away but the conditional character of the gift of the
land remains. Proverbs :–; :; Psalm ; Job : all suppose
that there is a relation between actions of individuals and what befalls
them. Dwelling in the land is a result of a righteous way of life. The
wicked will be cut off from the land. So, the motif of the gift of the
land has become an expression for the reward of security, welfare, and
being free of trouble for living an upright life. The wicked will meet
the opposite. As daily practice seems to conflict with the retributive
worldview, some wisdom texts start questioning the tenability of it or
try to find solutions in order to explain this tension. The motif of the
gift of the land is used in two of these cases. On the one hand, Psalm 
safeguards the retributive concept by depicting a “delay” of the reward
for the righteous. The faithful will inherit the land in the near future. On
the other hand, Job  questions the view that there is a relation between
actions of individuals and what befalls them more structurally by means
of a reversal of the motif of the gift of the land. Job turns round a broad
tradition in order to charge God with unjust actions. While õøà refers to
individual situations in Prov :–; :; Psalm  and means “land,”
it tends to the more universal meaning “earth” in Job :. Psalm 
 emke jelmer keulen

might include some “eschatological” tendencies, because it sketches a

future reward for righteousness.36 With this, Wisdom literature displays
an intermediate stage towards a more eschatological use of the motif of
the gift of the land.

36 Brueggemann, “Psalm ,” . E.g.: äøäî (Ps :); èòî ãåò (Ps :), and úéøçà

(Ps :–).
 TOBIJA UND NEHEMIA:
IHRE FEINDSCHAFT UND DEREN MOTIVE

Klaus-Dietrich Schunck

Wie alle tatkräftigen Männer, die in fest geprägte Institutionen neu ein-
treten und neue Aufgaben anpacken, hatte auch Nehemia Gegner, als er
nach Jerusalem kam und dort zu wirken begann. Der wohl aktivste und
einflussreichste unter ihnen, der für ihn zugleich der gefährlichste war,
hieß Tobija.
Wer war dieser Tobija? In der im Nehemiabuch verarbeiteten sog.
Nehemia-Denkschrift1 tritt der Name äéáåè -mal auf.2 Dabei steht er
in Neh :, —sowie wohl auch in Neh :3—mit den Beifügungen
éðîòä ãáòä. Daraus ist immer wieder abgeleitet worden, dass Tobija Statt-
halter einer persischen Provinz Ammon gewesen sei.4 Dann müsste das
Wort ãáò jedoch in einer Constructus-Verbindung mit ïåîò stehen, nicht
aber mit éðîòä als Adjektiv. Dazu gibt es keinen eindeutigen Beweis dafür,
dass im . Jh. v.Chr. eine persische Provinz Ammon überhaupt existierte.5
Und was sollte ein Statthalter von Ammon ständig in Samaria an der Seite

1 Der im Ich-Stil abgefassten „Nehemia-Denkschrift“ liegen wahrscheinlich zwei lite-

rarisch voneinander zu unterscheidende Komplexe zugrunde, die genauer als „Mauer-
bau-Erzählung“ und eigentliche „Nehemia-Denkschrift“ zu bezeichnen sind und erst
sekundär miteinander verbunden wurden. Vgl. dazu genauer T. Reinmuth, Der Bericht
Nehemias: Zur literarischen Eigenart, traditionsgeschichtlichen Prägung und innerbibli-
schen Rezeption des Ich-Berichts Nehemias (OBO ; Freiburg [Schweiz] ).
2 Neh :, ; :; :; :, ,  (-mal), ; :, , . In : ist äéáåè späterer

Zusatz in Angleichung an :; vgl. W. Rudolph, Esra und Nehemia samt . Esra (HAT ;
Tübingen ), ; K. Galling, Die Bücher der Chronik, Esra, Nehemia (ATD ;
Göttingen ), ; K.-D. Schunck, Nehemia (BKAT .; Neukirchen-Vluyn –
), –.
3 Analog zu :,  ist ãáòä vor éðîòä einzufügen; vgl. Schunck, Nehemia, .
4 So B. Mazar, „The Tobiads“, IEJ  () ; C.C. McCown, „The #Araq el-Emir

and the Tobiads“, BA  () ; J. de Fraine, Esdras en Nehemias (BOT .; Roermond
), ; K. Galling, Studien zur Geschichte Israels im persischen Zeitalter (Tübingen
), ; J.M. Myers, Ezra. Nehemiah (AB ; New York ), ; S. Herrmann,
Geschichte Israels in alttestamentlicher Zeit (München ), ; H. Donner, Geschichte
des Volkes Israel und seiner Nachbarn in Grundzügen (Göttingen –), .
5 Vgl. U. Kellermann, Nehemia: Quellen, Überlieferung und Geschichte (BZAW ;

Berlin ), .

 klaus-dietrich schunck

des dortigen Statthalters Sanballat (vgl. Neh :)?6 Vielmehr zeigt die
Bezeichnung des in Neh :,  neben Tobija genannten Sanballat als
éðøçä, dass Nehemia bei seinen Gegnern die Nennung von Titeln oder
Funktionen vermied und stattdessen deren Herkunft umschrieb. So wird
bei Tobija mit den Worten éðîòä ãáòä offenbar auf eine mit Ammon ver-
bundene Herkunft angespielt, wobei das Wort ãáò dann auf ein Abhän-
gigkeitsverhältnis von einem Oberherrn,7 eine Stellung als Untergebener,
hinweist.8 Wahrscheinlich bezog sich dieses Abhängigkeitsverhältnis des
Tobija auf den in Neh :,  vor ihm genannten Sanballat in seiner
Funktion als Statthalter der Provinz Samaria.
Der Name äéáåè, der das theophore Element mit dem Jahwenamen
enthält, ist ein israelitisch-jüdischer Name, der noch mehrfach im Alten
Testament wie auch in anderen Quellen belegt ist9 und Tobija als Jahwe-
verehrer ausweist. Zusammen mit der Feststellung, dass er verwandt-
schaftliche Verbindungen zu hoch angesehenen Jerusalemer Familien
(vgl. Neh :; :) wie auch nach Ammon hatte, legt das die Annahme
nahe, dass er aus einer jüdisch-ammonitischen Mischehe stammte, wobei
wahrscheinlich seine Mutter eine Ammoniterin war.10
Was aber machte diesen Mann nun zu einem so entschiedenen und
gefährlichen Gegner Nehemias? Schon A. v. Hoonacker vermutete, dass
er mit dem in Esra : genannten ìàáè identisch ist,11 der bereits um 
v.Chr. als ein angesehener Mann in Samaria lebte, dort zu der Umgebung
des Statthalters gehörte und zusammen mit einem persischen Beamten

6 Sanballat wird  v.Chr. in den Elephantine-Papyri als ïåøîù úçô bezeichnet (CAP

, Zeile ). Da sich in diesem Papyrus die Juden mit ihrem Anliegen aber an die Söhne
des Sanballat wenden, lässt dies darauf schließen, dass diese bereits für ihn das Amt des
Statthalters führen, da er schon sehr betagt war. Dann aber ist es sehr wahrscheinlich,
dass er zur Zeit des Auftretens von Tobija und Nehemia bereits Statthalter der Provinz
Samaria war, was auch durch Neh :a nahegelegt wird.
7 Vgl. U. Rüterswörden, Die Beamten der israelitischen Königszeit (BWANT ;

Stuttgart ), –.

8 Vgl. Gen :;  Sam :;  Kön :; :;  Kön :; :–.
9 Vgl. HAL –; B. Reicke, „Tobia“, BHH :–.
10 So auch M. Noth, Die israelitischen Personennamen im Rahmen der gemeinsemiti-

schen Namengebung (BWANT ; Stuttgart ),  Anm. ; Rudolph, Esra und Nehe-
mia, . Als Analogie vgl.  Kön :, , wonach König Rehabeam von Juda die
Ammoniterin Naama zur Mutter hatte. Kellermann, Nehemia, , nimmt dagegen eine
jüdische Mutter für Tobija an.
11 A. van Hoonacker, La sacerdoce lévitique (London ), . Ihm folgten E. Sellin,

Studien zur Entstehungsgeschichte der jüdischen Gemeinde nach dem babylonischen Exil
(Leipzig ), :; Kellermann, Nehemia, ; H.G.M. Williamson, Ezra, Nehemiah
(WBC ; Waco, Tex. ), .
 tobija und nehemia: ihre feindschaft und deren motive 

des Statthalters namens Mitredat12 eine Jerusalem betreffende Eingabe

an den persischen König Artaxerxes I. richtete. Die Abfassung dieses
Schreibens in Aramäisch (vgl. Esra :b) erklärt dabei leicht den Wech-
sel des theophoren Elements äé- in äéáåè zu ìà- in ìàáè.13 Trifft diese
Identifizierung zu, so hätte Tobija schon vor dem Auftreten Nehemias
in Jerusalem eine einflussreiche Stellung am Amtssitz des Statthalters
der Provinz Samaria eingenommen, zu der zu dieser Zeit das Gebiet
von Jerusalem und Juda als südlicher Annex gehörte. Dabei legt dann
aber die Abfassung einer Jerusalem betreffenden Eingabe an den persi-
schen König, die zweifellos nicht ohne Kenntnis und Zustimmung des
zuständigen Statthalters von Samaria erfolgt sein konnte, die Annahme
nahe, dass er der für die Angelegenheiten dieses jüdischen Annexes
zuständige Beamte des Statthalters war, er die Funktion eines Unter-
statthalters für das Gebiet von Jerusalem und Juda innehatte.14 Sowohl
als Halbjude und Jahweverehrer—was man auch aus dem Namen seines
Sohnes Johanan (vgl. Neh :) erschließen darf—als auch auf Grund
seiner verwandtschaftlichen Verbindungen zu angesehenen Jerusalemer
Familien (vgl. Neh :; :) musste er für diese Funktion besonders
gut geeignet sein. So verwundert es auch nicht, dass er in den Ausein-
andersetzungen um die Wiederherstellung der Stadtmauer Jerusalems
immer wieder an der Seite von Sanballat als des zuständigen Statthalters
auftritt.15
Für die in Jerusalem und Juda bestehenden Verhältnisse und vor allem
für die Tätigkeit von Tobija als des für dieses Gebiet zuständigen Unter-
statthalters musste das auf Grund eines königlichen Erlasses erfolgende
Auftreten eines Vertrauten des Königs in Jerusalem mit großer Wahr-
scheinlichkeit zu Veränderungen führen. So nahmen dann auch Tobija
und Sanballat die Nachricht, dass sich Nehemia, mit Passierscheinen des
Königs versehen und von einer militärischen Eskorte begleitet, Jerusa-
lem nähere, sogleich mit großem Missfallen auf (Neh :). Bald nach
dem Eintreffen Nehemias in Jerusalem aber hörten beide dann genauer,
dass Nehemia beabsichtigte, die seit vielen Jahrzehnten zerstört liegende
Stadtmauer Jerusalems wieder aufzubauen (Neh :–a). Neben Spott

12 Mitredat („Mitrasgegeben“) ist ein oft belegter persischer Name; vgl. F. Justi, Irani-

sches Namenbuch (Marburg ), –.

13 Zum Namen ìàáè vgl. auch Jes :.
14 So auch schon Kellermann, Nehemia, . Ähnlich urteilt Williamson, Ezra, Nehe-

mia, –.
15 Vgl. Neh :, ; :; :. In Neh :,  wurde Sanballat dagegen erst später in

den Text eingefügt.

 klaus-dietrich schunck

über dieses Vorhaben veranlasste sie das zu der Äußerung: „Wollt ihr
gegen den König rebellieren?“ (Neh :b).
Diese Aussage ist nun aber sehr aufschlussreich, denn sie setzt bei
den Sprechern die Annahme eines Vergehens gegen eine Anordnung
des Königs und damit gegen seine Autorität voraus. Das heißt, es muss
nach ihrer Ansicht im vorliegenden Fall eine Anordnung des persischen
Königs gegeben haben, die einen Wiederaufbau der Stadtmauer Jeru-
salems verbietet. Und tatsächlich existierte eine solche Anordnung, die
Artaxerxes I. auf Grund eines Antrags von verschiedenen Männern,
die alle mit der Verwaltung der Provinz Samaria eng verbunden waren,
einige Jahre vor dem Auftreten Nehemias in Jerusalem erlassen hatte (vgl.
Esra :–).16 Aus der Begründung für diesen Antrag aber wird deut-
lich, dass die Führungsschicht von Samaria eine erneute Befestigung von
Jerusalem verhindern wollte, weil sie befürchtete, dass Jerusalem dann
selbstbewusst und stark Steuern, Naturalabgaben und Zölle nicht mehr
abführen würde und weitere Städte durch sein Beispiel ermuntern würde,
ebenso zu verfahren (vgl. Esra :).
Eben dieser tiefere Grund für das bei Artaxerxes I. vor einigen Jahren
erwirkte Verbot eines Wiederaufbaus der Mauern Jerusalems musste nun
aber durch das Vorhaben Nehemias, die Stadtmauer Jerusalems wieder
aufzubauen, zur Utopie werden. Ja, noch mehr: Durch die von Nehemia
auf Grund eines königlichen Erlasses in Jerusalem eingeleiteten Maßnah-
men wurde in den Wirkungsbereich des Statthalters von Samaria und
seines für Jerusalem und Juda zuständigen Unterstatthalters eingegriffen.
Das aber musste bei Tobija—und ebenso bei Sanballat—zu einer ableh-
nenden, negativen Haltung gegenüber Nehemia führen. Sie schlug bei
Tobija offenbar in persönliche Feindschaft um, als Nehemia noch wäh-
rend der Arbeiten an der Stadtmauer Jerusalems zum Statthalter einer
eigenständigen Provinz Juda ernannt wurde, denn damit erlosch offizi-
ell das von Tobija geführte Amt des Unterstatthalters für Jerusalem und
Juda.17
Ging diese Entmachtung des Tobija noch auf eine politische Entschei-
dung des persischen Königs zurück, so vertiefte eine kurz darauf von
Nehemia gegen Tobija verfügte Maßnahme die persönliche Feindschaft
des Tobija gegenüber Nehemia: Nehemia ließ aus der Zelle, die Tobija

16 Vgl. dazu genauer Rudolph, Esra und Nehemia, –.

17 Wie Neh : zeigt, handelte Sanballat kurz vor Abschluss der Arbeiten zur Wieder-
herstellung der Stadtmauer bereits ohne Tobija; äéáåèå ist hier späterer Zusatz. Vgl. dazu
auch Schunck, Nehemia, .
 tobija und nehemia: ihre feindschaft und deren motive 

im Jerusalemer Tempel eingeräumt worden war, allen Hausrat des Tobija

entfernen, entzog ihm also die weitere Nutzung dieser Zelle (Neh :–
a, –).18 Was veranlasste Nehemia zu diesem Vorgehen? Es ist auf-
fällig, dass er eine entsprechende Maßnahme gegen den angesehenen
und wohlhabenden Meschullam, dem als Laien ebenfalls eine Tempel-
zelle überlassen worden war (vgl. Neh :), nicht ergriff. So liegt die
Annahme nahe, dass der Grund für dieses Vorgehen Nehemias gegen
Tobija in der Auffassung Nehemias lag, dass Tobija als Mischling aus
einer jüdisch-ammonitischen Mischehe den Tempel verunreinige. Diese
Erklärung findet in der Anordnung Nehemias, die von Tobija genutzte
Tempelzelle in einer offenbar kultischen Handlung zu reinigen (Neh
:),19 obwohl in dieser doch keine die Heiligkeit des Tempels verlet-
zenden Handlungen vorgenommen wurden, ihre Bestätigung. Dazu wird
auch aus dem weiteren Verhalten Nehemias während seiner Amtszeit als
Statthalter deutlich, dass er Mischehen von Juden strikt ablehnte, weil er
diese als einen Akt des Ungehorsams und der Untreue gegenüber Gott
betrachtete (vgl. Neh :–). Und so vertrieb er auch einen Sohn
(oder Enkel) des Hohenpriesters Eljaschib aus Jerusalem, da dieser eine
Tochter des nichtjüdischen Statthalters Sanballat von Samaria geheiratet
hatte (Neh :).20 Die von Nehemia verfügte Ausweisung des Tobija
aus einer eigenen Tempelzelle musste von diesem als ein persönlicher,
ihn erniedrigender Angriff Nehemias verstanden werden, obwohl sie
religiös motiviert war.
So verwundert es dann auch nicht, dass Tobija sich danach verstärkt
auf seine guten Verbindungen zu den Vornehmen Judas21 sowie zu sei-
nen angesehenen und einflussreichen Verwandten konzentrierte (vgl.
Neh :–; :) und diese für Aktionen gegen Nehemia zu gewin-
nen suchte. Dennoch ergriffen diese nicht sofort und einseitig für Tobija
Partei. Wie der rege Schriftverkehr zwischen ihnen und Tobija (vgl. Neh
:) sowie ihre Fürsprache für Tobija bei Nehemia (vgl. Neh :a)
zeigen, waren sie vielmehr um eine Vermittlung zwischen den verfein-
deten Männern und eine Entspannung des feindlichen Verhältnisses
bemüht. Offenbar erkannten sie weithin auch die Verdienste Nehemias
um die Sicherheit Jerusalems an, wie die umfangreiche Beteiligung des

18 Zur Datierung in die Anfangszeit Nehemias vgl. Kellermann, Nehemia, , –
.
19 Mit GL, S und A ist hier analog zu V. , – der Sg. zu lesen.
20 Der Abschnitt Neh :–, in dem es um den Ausschluss der Mischlinge aus der
Gemeinde Gottes geht, ist ein späterer Zusatz eines Redaktors.
21 Vgl. Neh :; :.; :.
 klaus-dietrich schunck

vermögenden Meschullam, der der Schwiegervater des Sohnes des Tobija

war (vgl. Neh :), an dem Wiederaufbau der Stadtmauer Jerusalems
(vgl. Neh :, ) deutlich macht.
Hatte Tobija somit bei den Vornehmen und Verwandten keinen rech-
ten Erfolg bei seinem Bemühen, sie gegen Nehemia einzunehmen, so
versuchte er, Nehemia mit eigenen schriftlichen Drohungen Angst zu
machen (Neh :b). Wahrscheinlich wollte er Nehemia verunsichern
und so zu Fehlern in seiner Tätigkeit als Statthalter verleiten. Darüber
hinaus versuchte er aber auch, Nehemia mit Hilfe anderer Personen
Angst einzuflößen und zu sein Ansehen schmälernden Handlungen zu
veranlassen. So hatte Tobija den in Jerusalem lebenden Propheten Sche-
maja dazu bewegen können, Nehemia unter dem Vorwand, ein Got-
teswort für ihn zu haben, in sein Haus zu locken22 und ihn dort mit
einer falschen Weissagung dann zu einer Handlung zu verleiten, mit der
er in den Augen des Volkes sein Ansehen verlieren musste (vgl. Neh
:–).23 Es macht die tiefe Verbitterung und Feindschaft deutlich, die
Tobija gegenüber Nehemia schließlich empfunden haben muss, wenn er
nicht davor zurückschreckte, sogar einen Propheten zu korrumpieren,
um Nehemia zu schaden und vielleicht ganz auszuschalten.24 Obwohl
Nehemia erkannte, dass Tobija diese Intrige gegen ihn angezettelt hatte,
ergriff er doch keine Maßnahmen gegen ihn. Dieser Vorgang machte ihm
aber deutlich, dass die ganze Prophetenschaft Tobija unterstützte und ihn
ablehnte (Neh :b).25
In Tobija und Nehemia standen sich zwei Männer gegenüber, die beide
aus angesehenen jüdischen Familien stammten.26 Ihre Feindschaft, die

22 Vgl. Rudolph, Esra und Nehemia, ; Williamson, Ezra, Nehemia, .
23 In Neh : sind die Anführung des Wortes ìëéä sowie die Ausweitung der Hand-
lung auf das Innere des Tempels, in V.  die Frage: „Wer wie ich würde am Leben bleiben,
wenn er in den Tempel hineingeht?“ und in V.  das Wort éúàèçå spätere Zusätze, um
der Flucht zum íéäìàä úéá den Charakter eines Sakrilegs zu geben, mit dem Nehemia
sein Leben verwirken würde. Ebenso ist die Nennung von Sanballat in den V.  und 
ein späterer Zusatz (vgl. Schunck, Nehemia, –).
24 Zur genaueren Analyse des Verhaltens der Propheten gegenüber Nehemia vgl.

K.-D. Schunck, „Waren die Propheten Gegner Nehemias?“ in „Die unwiderstehliche

Wahrheit“: Studien zur alttestamentlichen Prophetie (Hg. R. Lux et al.; Leipzig ), –
.
25 Der Abschnitt Neh :– schließt im nachholenden Stil an :– an, was schon

der Wechsel in das Perfekt in : deutlich macht (vgl. Galling, Nehemia, ; Keller-
mann, Nehemia, , Anm. ). Damit wird :– zeitlich vor das in :– berichtete
Geschehen, das seinerseits noch vor dem Abschluss des Mauerbaus stattfand, angesetzt.
26 Nehemia stammte aus einem alten Jerusalemer Fürstengeschlecht, wahrscheinlich

sogar aus einer Seitenlinie der Davididen ab (vgl. Kellermann, Nehemia, –).
 tobija und nehemia: ihre feindschaft und deren motive 

sich an dem Auftreten Nehemias in Jerusalem und der von ihm gelei-
teten Restaurierung der Stadtmauer Jerusalems entzündete und somit
zunächst politisch motiviert war, schlug durch die Ernennung Nehemias
zum Statthalter einer eigenständigen Provinz Juda in eine persönliche
Feindschaft um. Diese wurde durch die von Nehemia verfügte Auswei-
sung des Tobija aus einer Tempelzelle sowie Drohungen Tobijas gegen
Nehemia weiter vertieft und gipfelte in einer von Tobija angezettelten
Intrige gegen Nehemia.
Die Feindschaft zwischen Tobija und Nehemia bestimmte nur die
Anfangszeit von Nehemias Wirken in Jerusalem. Es muss offen bleiben,
ob Tobija sich danach mit Nehemia aussöhnte oder die Provinz Juda
verließ und nach Samaria in den Kreis um den dortigen Statthalter
Sanballat zurückkehrte.
 part two

LAND IN HISTORY AND THEOLOGY

 DER HEILIGE ORT IM
LEBEN UND GLAUBEN ALTISRAELS*

Walter Dietrich

. „Heilige Orte“—heute und damals

Die Frage nach dem heiligen Ort scheint unmodern zu sein. In den Nie-
derlanden oder in der Schweiz gibt es wenige Orte, die im Ruf der Hei-
ligkeit stehen. Wenn, dann gehören sie bezeichnenderweise in ein katho-
lisches oder ein säkulares Umfeld.1 In einem kritisch-protestantischen
Milieu hatten es Orte seit jeher schwer, als heilig zu gelten. In der refor-
matorischen und der sogenannten dialektischen Theologie zählen derar-
tige Phänomene zur „natürlichen“ Religiosität, die es theologisch zu hin-
terfragen gilt. Erst recht in aufgeklärt-religionskritischem Kontext haftet
der Vorstellung von Heiligkeit generell ein Geruch von Vorrationalität
oder Verschrobenheit an.
Wer sich unter solchen Umständen der Frage nach dem heiligen Ort
sachgemäß nähern will, muss jegliche protestantische Modernität für
einen Augenblick hinter sich lassen und sich in die Religiosität antiker—
aber keineswegs nur antiker!—Menschen hineinversetzen. Möglicher-
weise kommen dabei Zusammenhänge und Gedankengänge von grund-
legender anthropologischer und theologischer Bedeutung in den Blick.
Es gibt im biblischen Hebräisch ein exaktes Äquivalent für „heili-
ger Ort“: ùåã÷ íå÷î. Verschiedentlich wird das „Zelt der Begegnung“
samt seinem Inventar so bezeichnet2—in gewissem Widerspruch zu der

* Dieser Beitrag wurde bei einem Symposium aus Anlass des . Geburtstages von

Ed Noort in Groningen als Vortrag und in etwas kürzerer Form dargeboten. Damals war
mir das Thema vorgegeben. Es schien und scheint mir sehr dazu geeignet, den mir wer-
ten und vertrauten Kollegen zu ehren, der in geradezu idealtypischer Weise die alttesta-
mentlichen Subdisziplinen der Palästinaarchäologie und Palästinakunde einerseits und
der biblischen Exegese und Theologie andererseits vereint.
1 Zu denken wäre an Pilgerorte wie das Schweizer Kloster Einsiedeln mit seiner

Kirche und darin der Schwarzen Madonna als zentralem Kultgegenstand oder, von ganz
anderer Art, die sog. Rütli-Wiese am Vierwaldstättersee, auf der sich der Sage nach die
ersten Eidgenossen gegenseitig den Treueid schworen.
2 Ex :; Lev :, –; :; :; :; :; Ez :. In Lev : heißt es íå÷î
 walter dietrich

gängigen Vorstellung, heilige Stätten seien ortsfest.3 In Ez : wird der

Begriff angewandt auf den hier projektierten nachexilischen Tempel.4
Der konkrete Jerusalemer Tempel—ob nun der Erste oder der Zweite—
heißt verschiedentlich „Stätte (íå÷î) seiner [Jhwhs] Heiligkeit“5 bzw.
„meines Heiligtums“.6 Auch bei der typisch deuteronomi(sti)schen For-
mel von der „Stätte (íå÷î), die Jhwh erwählt hat, um seinen Namen dort
wohnen zu lassen“,7 ist unzweifelhaft Jerusalem mit seinem Heiligtum im
Blick.8
Freilich, an mehreren Stellen bezieht sich das Wort íå÷î in der präg-
nanten Bedeutung von „heiliger Ort“ auf Heiligtümer außerhalb Jerusa-
lems. Nach Gen : gelangte Abraham bei seiner Einwanderung nach
Kanaan zum íëù íå÷î, zur „heiligen Stätte von Sichem“.9 Und Samuel
fungierte als „Richter“10 an den heiligen „Stätten“ (úåîå÷î) von Bet-
El, Gilgal und Mizpa ( Sam :).11 Jes : spricht von „deinen [scil.

ùã÷ä.
3 Nicht von ungefähr wählen zeitgenössische Architekten für Kirchengebäude zuwei-
len die Zeltform: einerseits in Aufnahme alttestamentlicher Tradition, andererseits in
Widerspruch gegen eine zu statische Vorstellung von der „heiligen Stätte“. Beispiele sind
dem Vf. in Gestalt der reformierten Kirche von Dulliken (Schweiz) und der lutherischen
Kirche in Hyvinkää (Finnland) vor Augen, beide erbaut in der zweiten Hälfte des .
Jahrhunderts.
4 Ob ùåã÷ íå÷î in Pred : ebenfalls den Tempel oder die Totenstadt bzw. die

individuelle Begräbnisstätte meint, ist unklar, s. HAL s. v. íå÷î.

5 åùã÷ íå÷î Ps :; Esra :.
6 éùã÷î íå÷î Jes :; vgl. auch Jer :.
7 Z. B. Dtn :; :;  Kön :; vgl. auch äåäé íù íå÷î Jes : sowie éíå÷î Jer :;

Hos : und åîå÷î Jes :; Mi :, weil sich hier das Suffix jeweils auf Gott bezieht. Zur
Bedeutung dieses „Ortes“ im Gesamtaufriss des Dtn vgl. die Studie von J.G. McConville,
„Time, Place and the Deuteronomic Altar Law“, in Time and Place in Deuteronomy (Hg.
J.G. McConville und J.G. Millar; JSOTSup ; Sheffield ), –.
8 Auch der Ausdruck äæä íå÷îä ( Kön :;  Kön :; Jer :; : u. ö.) dürfte als

in diesem Sinne prägnant zu verstehen sein.

9 Nachdem in diesem Zusammenhang gar noch eine „Orakelterebinte“ erwähnt wird,

ist zu begreifen, dass spätere, orthodox denkende Tradenten sich zu dem Vermerk
gedrängt fühlten, damals sei eben noch „der Kanaaniter im Land“ gewesen. Dass der
íå÷î, an dem die Bindung Isaaks lokalisiert gedacht ist (Gen :–), transparent ist auf
den Zion, hat T. Veijola wahrscheinlich gemacht („Das Opfer des Abraham: Paradigma
des Glaubens aus dem nachexilischen Zeitalter“, in idem, Offenbarung und Anfechtung:
Hermeneutisch-theologische Studien zum Alten Testament [Hg. W. Dietrich; Biblisch-
Theologische Studien ; Neukirchen-Vluyn ], –, hier –).
10 Es wird hier das Verb èôù verwendet, das bekanntlich zwischen juridischen, admi-

nistrativen, politischen und militärischen Konnotationen schillert, vgl. H. Niehr, Herr-

schen und Richten: Die Wurzel špt. im Alten Orient und im Alten Testament (FB ; Würz-
burg ).
11 Dazu, dass hier ein Kern der Samuel-Überlieferung liegt, siehe W. Dietrich, „Sa-
 der heilige ort im leben und glauben altisraels 

Gottes] heiligen Städten“ in Juda (êùã÷ éøò). Ganz unbefangen erwähnt

Jes : auch den ùã÷î der Moabiter. Mitunter werden ganz generell die
„heiligen Stätten“ der Heiden in den Blick genommen: einmal in scharfer
Distanz (Dtn :), einmal mit großer Sympathie (Zef :).12
Unbeschadet dessen gilt den alttestamentlichen Zeugen—und na-
mentlich solchen aus nachexilischer Zeit, als es im Land keine weiteren
Heiligtümer mehr gab—der Tempel von Jerusalem als der heilige Ort.13
Die ganze Stadt kann seinetwegen „heilig“ heißen;14 der Zion wird gern
„heiliger Berg“ genannt (ùã÷ øä),15 das Tempelgebäude ùãå÷ ìëéä.16 Am
Jerusalemer Tempel, über dessen Anlage und Nutzung wir relativ gut
informiert sind (auch wenn eine archäologische Verifikation leider nicht
möglich ist),17 lässt sich beobachten, dass der Intensitätsgrad an Heilig-
keit gleichsam von außen nach innen zunimmt.18 Der profane Außenbe-
reich (Stadt und Landschaft) war vom Tempelgelände durch eine Mauer
abgetrennt. Wer durch eines der Tore den Tempelvorhof betreten wollte,
musste sich ernsthafter Selbstprüfung unterziehen;19 denn dem Heili-
gen durfte man nur „rein“ nahe kommen.20 Durch Opfer und Riten
wurde der Besucher in den Stand gesetzt, das eigentliche Heiligtum—

muel—ein Prophet?“ Sacra Scripta  () –.

12 Vgl. dazu W. Dietrich und U. Luz, „Universalität und Partikularität im Horizont

des biblischen Monotheismus“, in Vergegenwärtigung des Alten Testaments: Beiträge zur

biblischen Hermeneutik. FS R. Smend (Hg. C. Bultmann et al.; Göttingen ), –,
bes.  bzw. .
13 In der exilischen Literatur wird der (zerstörte) Tempel durch das „Zelt der Begeg-

nung“ substituiert (so die Priesterschrift) oder ein neuer Tempel imaginiert (so der eze-
chielische Verfassungsentwurf). Das Schlüsselwort für beides ist ùã÷î das „Heiligtum“;
derselbe Ausdruck auch in Jes :; :.
14 Jes :; :; Dan :.
15 Jes :; :; :; :; :, ; :; Joel :; :; Ob ; Sach :; Ps :;

:; :; :; :; :; Dan :, .

16 Ps :; :; :.
17 Vgl. dazu neuestens O. Keel, Die Geschichte Jerusalems und die Entstehung des

Monotheismus (Band . von Orte und Landschaften der Bibel; Göttingen ), bes. –
.
18 In dieser Hinsicht bestehen keine markanten Unterschiede zwischen dem Ersten

und dem Zweiten Tempel.

19 Vgl. die sog. Toreinlassliturgie Psalm .
20 Das wichtigste Stichwort ist øäè, der Gegenbegriff àîè; beide Begriffe beziehen

sich vornehmlich auf kultische, aber auch auf ethische (Un-)Reinheit, vgl. zu Letzte-
rem Jer : bzw. Jes :. Aufgabe des Priesters ist es, zwischen Rein und Unrein zu
unterscheiden—und Anweisung (äøåú) zu geben, wie man vom einen in den anderen
Zustand gelangt; vgl. dazu die umfangreiche Reinheits-Tora in Leviticus –. Analog
hat nach Ez : der Priester den Unterschied zwischen ùã÷ und ìåç zu lehren (äøé Hif.);
versäumt er dies, tut er der „Tora Gewalt“ an, Ez :.
 walter dietrich

den Hauptraum des Tempels, öfters ùã÷ genannt21—zu betreten. Zum

Allerheiligsten—dem íéùã÷ä ùã÷22—hatte, jedenfalls in späterer Zeit,
einzig der Hohepriester Zutritt, und auch er nur nach umfangreichen
kultischen Vorkehrungen und nur zum Zweck der Reinigung des Heilig-
tums und des ganzen Volkes von bisher unentdeckt gebliebenen Sünden
(Leviticus ).

. Heiliger Gott und heiliger Ort

Damit ist deutlich, was einen Ort nach biblischer Vorstellung „heilig“
macht: Es ist im Kern die Überzeugung von der besonderen Präsenz und
Nahbarkeit Gottes an eben dieser Stelle. „Heiligkeit“ gilt als herausra-
gende Eigenschaft des biblischen Gottes. Die Hebräische Bibel tituliert
ihn verschiedentlich—vorzugsweise in jesajanischer Sprachtradition23—
als ìàøùé ùåã÷, als „den Heiligen Israels“. Schon diese Constructus-Ver-
bindung zeigt, dass „Heiligkeit“ mitnichten die Entrücktheit und Unnah-
barkeit Gottes signalisiert; sie gewinnt vielmehr gerade in der Beziehung
Gottes zu den Menschen bzw. Jhwhs zu Israel Gestalt. Gott zeigt sich sei-
nem Volk als heilig—und er tut das vorzugsweise an bestimmten Orten.
Diese bekommen gewissermaßen Anteil an seinem heiligen Wesen. Und
Gläubige, die sich zu diesen Orten begeben, versprechen sich gleichfalls
Teilhabe am Heiligen.
Zugleich aber empfindet man vor heiligen Orten hohen Respekt, ja
eine gewisse Scheu oder gar Angst. Das ist erklärlich. Das Numinose, das
an solchen Orten weilt, ist nach bekannter Definition fascinosum et tre-
mendum in einem. Man fühlt sich davon angezogen, man erhofft sich viel
davon—doch man begegnet ihm nach Möglichkeit nur, nachdem man
sich darauf vorbereitet, sich selbst „geheiligt“ und damit dem Heiligen
konform gemacht hat;24 denn dieses erträgt die Berührung mit Profa-
nem, gar mit Unreinem nicht.25

21  Kön :, .

22  Kön :; :; :; Ez :;  Chr :.
23 Der Ausdruck ist -mal in Protojesaja, -mal in Deuterojesaja, -mal in Trito-

jesaja belegt (vgl. W. Kornfeld und H. Ringgren, „ùã÷ qdš“, ThWAT :–, hier
). Hinzu kommen Belege in Ps :; :; :. Auffällig ist daneben die Häu-
fung des Adjektivs ùåã÷ zur Beschreibung Jhwhs im Trishagion Jes : sowie in Ps :,
, .
24 ùã÷ Hitp., z. B. Num :; Jos :;  Sam :; Jes :.
25 Die bestimmenden hebräischen Wortwurzeln sind ùã÷ und ìåç/ììç, vgl. Kornfeld

und Ringgren, ThWAT :.

 der heilige ort im leben und glauben altisraels 

Freilich, die Unterscheidung von heilig und profan, von göttlich und
weltlich, von Jenseits und Diesseits ist nicht immer einfach. Zwar han-
delt es sich um kategorial verschiedene Welten, doch sind diese nicht
raum-zeitlich voneinander geschieden—so, als müsste der Mensch sich
an einen möglichst abgelegenen Ort begeben oder bis zur Ewigkeit war-
ten, um Gott zu begegnen. Nicht mit zwei parallel gelagerten, sich prin-
zipiell nie berührenden Ebenen hat man es zu tun, sondern mit zwei
Dimensionen, die sich immer wieder treffen und überschneiden. Jeder-
zeit und überall kann es der Mensch mit dem Ewigen zu tun bekom-
men. Immer wieder und an vielen Orten ragt die Transzendenz in die
Immanenz hinein, macht sich spürbar, greifbar, mitunter gar sichtbar.
Für den Einzelnen sind solche Gelegenheiten nicht immer voraussehbar
und solche Orte nicht unbedingt erkennbar. So gerät der Mensch, wenn
er mitten in seinem materiellen und alltäglichen Leben auf das Göttliche
trifft, in die Gefahr, unversehens die Grenze zum Heiligen in unvorher-
gesehener, unangemessener Weise zu überschreiten und damit über sich
und seine Gemeinschaft Unheil heraufzubeschwören. Umgekehrt aber:
Begegnet er Gott oder reagiert erauf seine Offenbarung in der richtigen
Weise, dann bringt das Glück und Segen.
In exemplarischer Weise verdeutlicht das die Erzählung von der
Traumoffenbarung Jakobs in Bet-El (Gen :–). Irgendwo auf dem
mittelpalästinischen Bergland legt er sich unter freiem Himmel schlafen,
schiebt sich noch einen Stein als Kissen unter den Kopf—und hat dann
den berühmten Traum von der Himmelsstiege, auf der die Engel auf- und
niedersteigen; klarer könnte nicht gesagt sein, dass er sich an der (oder
doch an einer) Stelle befindet, wo Himmel und Erde sich berühren. Doch
obwohl das Traumbild auf ihn erhebend gewirkt haben dürfte—zumal es
nach der jetzigen Textgestalt26 in einer ausführlichen Verheißungsrede

26 Das war vermutlich nicht immer so. Die diachrone Analyse des Textes gibt drei Ent-

stehungsstufen zu erkennen. Ein erster Überlieferungskern berichtet von der Entdeckung

und Weihung der „Stätte“ von Bet-El durch einen gewissen Jakob (Gen :–, –*,
a). Beim Einbau in den Jakob-Erzählzyklus wird diese Erzählung zum Scharnier zwi-
schen den Jakob-Esau-Geschichten (Genesis ; ) und den Jakob-Laban-Geschichten
(Genesis –); Jakob erhält eine Verheißung und leistet ein Gelübde, doch beides ist
auf die Thematik seiner sicheren Rückkehr in die Heimat begrenzt (Gen :, aα*,
, –a, b). Auf der dritten und letzten Textstufe wird dies zu einer umfassenden
Verheißung ausgeweitet (Gen :*, , *, b), wodurch Jakob kompositionell mit
Abraham verbunden wird (vgl. die verwandten Texte Gen :–; :– sowie die
gründliche, sich in Einzelheiten unterscheidende, in der Grundrichtung aber ähnliche
Analyse von E. Blum, Die Komposition der Vätergeschichte [WMANT ; Neukirchen-
Vluyn ], –).
 walter dietrich

Gottes an ihn gipfelt—, nennt er nach dem Erwachen am Morgen den

Ort „Furcht erweckend“ (àøåð, Gen :). Warum? Weil er ihn ohne jede
Vorkehrung, im gleichsam profanen Zustand des Wanderers und Schlä-
fers, betreten und gar darauf gelegen hat. Um das Sakrileg halbwegs wie-
der gut zu machen, richtet er sein steinernes Kopfkissen als Mazzebe auf,
salbt sie und gibt der „Stätte“ (íå÷î) den Namen „Bet-El“, „Haus Got-
tes“ (Gen :). Zu diesem Zeitpunkt stand dort, der Imagination der
Erzählung zufolge, noch kein „Haus“, schon gar kein „Gotteshaus“. Das
berühmte Heiligtum von Bet-El wird vielmehr durch die kultisch kor-
rekte Handlung Jakobs gewissermaßen erst ins Leben gerufen. Von da
an ist dieser Ort „geheiligt“, d. h. profanem Gebrauch entzogen und Gott
bzw. der Begegnung mit ihm vorbehalten.
Ganz ähnlich die Erzählung von der Berufung des Mose, Exodus .
Irgendwo in der Einöde des Sinai wird er des Phänomens eines unaufhör-
lich brennenden Dornbuschs gewahr und vernimmt, als er näher treten
will, die Aufforderung, seine Schuhe auszuziehen,27 weil die Stätte (íå÷î),
an der er sich befinde, „heiliger Boden“ sei (ùã÷ úîãà, Ex :).28 Mose
gehorcht und wird dann der Offenbarung des Gottes gewürdigt, der das
versklavte Israel aus Ägypten herausführen wird.
Jakob und Mose konnten nicht wissen, dass der Ort, an dem sie
sich aufhielten, heilig war. Wenn heilige Orte aber erst einmal als sol-
che bekannt sind, dann werden sie, damit niemand sie profaniere und
die Gottheit kränke, gleichsam markiert: durch Kultsymbole (wie Maz-
zeben), durch Kultrituale (wie Schuhe-Ausziehen), durch Sakralbauten
(wie Tempel oder Moscheen oder Kirchen) oder auch durch Einfriedun-
gen. So wird laut Ex : Mose von Gott beauftragt, den heiligen Berg
Sinai einzugrenzen—wie, das erfahren wir nicht—und so dafür zu sor-
gen, dass nicht etwa Unbefugte oder Unvorbereitete die Heiligkeit des
Ortes stören und sich selbst und die Gemeinschaft gefährden.29
Das Heilige darf, damit es nicht entheiligt werde, nicht dem alltägli-
chen Gebrauch unterworfen werden. Dies zeigt schon der Gebrauch der
Wurzel qdš, und zwar sowohl im Hebräischen wie in anderen semitischen
Sprachen:30 Ihre Derivate begegnen in aller Regel in einem sprachlichen

27 Selbstverständlich ist der muslimische Brauch des Schuhe Ablegens vor der Mo-

schee aus dieser traditionsgeschichtlichen Wurzel erwachsen. Die Geste versinnbildlicht

den Respekt vor der besonderen Gott-Nähe des heiligen Ortes.
28 Derselbe Ausdruck wird in Sach : für das Land Juda verwendet!
29 Ähnlich ist laut Ez : bei der Planung des neuen Tempels zu verfahren.
30 Vgl. hierzu Kornfeld und Ringgren, ThWAT, spez. :–.
 der heilige ort im leben und glauben altisraels 

Kontext, der sich mit Begriffen wie „(kultisch) rein“, „in kultischem
Gebrauch stehend“, „der Gottheit geweiht“, „zum Heiligtum gehörig“
umreißen lässt. „Heiligen“ heißt demnach: vom Profanen separieren.

. Merkmale heiliger Orte

Was nun ist es, das einen Ort heilig macht bzw. was seine Heiligkeit
ausmacht? An den beiden Exempeln Genesis  und Exodus  lässt sich
bereits einiges darüber ablesen.

() Offenbar benötigt ein heiliger Ort eine Ursprungssage: Ein berühm-
ter Mann, ein Ahn der Gruppe bzw. des Volkes, die diesen Ort in Ehren
halten, hat die Stätte unter wundersamen Umständen entdeckt. Solche
ätiologischen Erzählungen erklären und begründen die besondere Got-
tesnähe und damit die Heiligkeit der betreffenden Orte.31
Vom Jerusalemer Tempel gibt es gleich mehrere solcher Ätiologien.
Da ist die sogenannte Ladegeschichte,32 deren erzählerischer und geo-
graphischer Bogen von Schilo über Eben-Eser, einige Philisterstädte, Bet-
Schemesch und Kirjat-Jearim bzw. Baale-Jehuda33 umwegreich und doch
zielgerichtet nach Jerusalem führt. David überführt das heilige Objekt
in einem aufwändigen Festakt in seine neue Residenz ( Samuel ), bis
Salomo es dann ins Allerheiligste des von ihm errichteten Tempels stellt,
wo es zu dessen heiliger Aura wesentlich beiträgt ( Könige ).34 Der

31 Es fällt nicht schwer, hierzu außerbiblische und sogar neuzeitliche Parallelen zu

nennen. Alle Pilgerorte—wie Rom oder Mekka oder Lourdes—haben ihre Gründungs-
Ätiologien.
32 Sie umfasst die Kapitel  Samuel –;  Samuel , vermutlich auch  Könige :–.

Vgl. dazu den Forschungsbericht bei W. Dietrich und T. Naumann, Die Samuelbücher
(EdF ; Darmstadt ), –.
33 Diese Differenz zwischen  Sam :– und  Sam :– in der Benennung des

Standorts der Lade vor ihrer Überführung nach Jerusalem ist nicht unüberbrückbar;
vermutlich war „Baala“ bzw. „Baale-Jehuda“ der Name des heiligen Bezirks in oder bei
Kirjat-Jearim, vgl. E. Gaß, Die Ortsnamen des Richterbuchs in historischer und redaktio-
neller Perspektive (Abhandlungen des Deutschen Palästinavereins ; Wiesbaden ),
.
34 Bekanntlich ist umstritten, ob Salomo den Tempel neu „gebaut“ oder nur aus-

„gebaut“ hat (beides könnte mit dem heb. Verb äðá bezeichnet werden); vgl. dazu K.
Rupprecht, Der Tempel von Jerusalem: Gründung Salomos oder jebusitisches Erbe? (BZAW
; Berlin ), zusammenfassend –, und Keel, Geschichte Jerusalems, –.
Ein Faktum scheint zu sein, dass die lichte Höhe des Allerheiligsten laut  Kön :, –
geringer war als die des Tempelhauptraums—eine Besonderheit, die entweder durch die
Absenkung der Decke oder durch einen höheren Fußboden im Allerheiligsten erreicht
 walter dietrich

gesamte, umfangreiche Bericht von Bau, Ausstattung und Einweihung

des Ersten Tempels in  Könige – ist ebenso ätiologisch ausgerich-
tet wie die Erzählung von der Entdeckung der Tenne Araunas durch
David als eines Ortes heilsamer Gegenwart Jhwhs und eines geeigneten
Bauplatzes für den künftigen Tempel ( Samuel ). Der Zweite Tempel
schließlich erfährt in der priesterlichen Darstellung des „Heiligen Zeltes“
als einer Einrichtung aus Mosaischer Zeit seine geistig-geistliche Begrün-
dung.
Derartige Ätiologien bietet die Hebräische Bibel noch für eine Reihe
weiterer Heiligtümer. Jakob hat nicht nur Bet-El, sondern auch Pnuël
„entdeckt“ (Gen :–); Mose hat ein schlangenförmiges Kultsymbol
hergestellt, das später in Jerusalem Verehrung genoss (Numeri , vgl. 
Könige :); unter Josua wurde, nach der Durchquerung des Jordans,
das Steinkreis-Heiligtum von Gilgal gegründet (Josua ); in Dan sorgte
ein Efraimit namens Micha für ein Götterbild (Richter –); der erste
König des Nordreichs, Jerobeam I., wertete in einem feierlichen Staatsakt
das dortige Heiligtum und dasjenige von Bet-El zu Staatsheiligtümern
auf ( Kön :–).35

() Heilige Stätten liegen—wie im Fall des Sinai und des Zion beson-
ders ersichtlich—oft an topographisch erhöhter Stelle. Das ist auch in den
Nachbarkulturen so: Das Pantheon der Ugariter wie auch das der Helle-
nen war auf einem Berg angesiedelt: dem Zaphon bzw. dem Olymp. Die
altorientalische Ikonographie zeigt immer wieder Göttinnen und Göt-
ter, die sich auf Bergen aufhalten.36 Wo es keine Berge gab—etwa im
Zweistromland—, baute man sie selbst und nannte sie Zikkurat. Auch die
biblischen úåîá („Höhen“) dürften aus Steinen aufgeschichtet gewesen
sein, werden überdies aber mit Vorzug an erhöhter Stelle innerhalb oder
in der Nähe der jeweiligen Siedlung gelegen haben.37 Man will Gott am

werden konnte. Träfe das Letztere zu, dann könnte dies auf eine architektonische Vorstufe
deuten: in dem Sinne, dass Salomo ein jebusitisches Heiligtum (in das Allerheiligste)
umgewandelt und (um das Hauptgebäude) erweitert hätte. Salomo hätte dann auf die
lang bewährte Heiligkeit eines Ortes zurückgegriffen—so wie die Erbauer der römischen
Kirche „Santa Maria sopra Minerva“!
35 In  Könige  liegt freilich eine aus judäischer Perspektive verfasste Negativ-

Ätiologie vor.
36 Vgl. O. Keel, Das Hohelied (ZBK ; Zürich ), Abbildungen ,  und .
37 Deutlich spricht  Sam :,  davon, dass man zur „Höhe“ „hinaufgeht“ (äìò)—

und damit sind offensichtlich nicht nur ein paar Treppenstufen gemeint. Archäolo-
gisch sind bamôt bisher, trotz wiederholter positiver Meldungen, noch kaum sicher
nachgewiesen.
 der heilige ort im leben und glauben altisraels 

heiligen Ort so nah wie möglich sein, und als dessen „heilige Wohnung“
wird in der Bibel gelegentlich der Himmel selbst bezeichnet.38 Solche
Vorstellungen sollten nicht vorschnell als naiv abgetan werden. Christ-
liche Wallfahrtskirchen stehen oft auf Bergen, Kirchtürme wie Minarette
weisen gen Himmel, auf Berggipfeln stehen Kreuze. Auch im Zeitalter
von Astronauten und Satelliten behält der Himmel bzw. das Weltall etwas
Erhabenes.

() Einige der in der Bibel erwähnten Heiligtümer haben eine eher über-
raschende Eigenschaft gemein: Sie liegen weitab von Siedlungs- und auch
von politischen Zentren. Vom Sinai ist das deutlich, in etwas schwäche-
rem Maße gilt es auch von Gilgal und Bet-El. Dieser Sachverhalt ent-
spricht einem in Berichten von homines religiosi immer wiederkehrenden
Zug: dass sie die Nähe Gottes in der Einsamkeit suchen oder erfahren.39
Lärm und Betriebsamkeit sind der Begegnung mit dem Transzendenten
abträglich, Einkehr und Stille dagegen zuträglich. Gewisse Passagen der
Hebräischen Bibel erwecken den Eindruck, Israel als ganzes sei seinem
Gott in der Wüstenzeit, nach dem Exodus und vor der Landnahme, am
nächsten gewesen, so dass geradezu die Wüste als „heiliger Ort“ erschei-
nen könnte.40 Dahinter dürfte weniger ein nomadisches als vielmehr ein
eremitisches Ideal stehen.

() Was heilige Orte darüber hinaus kennzeichnet, ließe sich unter die
Stichworte „Anlage und Ausstattung“ fassen. Dem Kult dienende Ge-
bäude unterscheiden sich allermeist architektonisch von profanen
Wohn- oder Zweckbauten.41 Wie sehr das dort Dienst tuende Kultper-
sonal, namentlich die Priesterschaft, an der göttlichen Aura des Ortes
Anteil hat, zeigt sich an den komplizierten und detaillierten gesetzlichen
Weisungen des Alten Testaments zu ihrer „Heiligung“.42 Der Altar, der zu
jedem Heiligtum gehört, ist derart heilig, dass nicht nur er selbst, sondern

38 Dtn :; Jes :.

39 Vgl. z. B. Exodus ;  Könige ;  Kön :–; Mt :–; :–. Der Hinweis auf
die späteren Eremiten, Einsiedeleien usw. kann hier nur pauschal sein.
40 Vgl. z. B. Ex :; :; Dtn :; Jer :; Ez :–; Hos :.
41 Die frühchristliche Basilika, eine Nachgestaltung der profanen Markthalle, ist eher

die Ausnahme und markiert ja auch nur einen relativ kurzen Abschnitt der christlichen
Architekturgeschichte. Zu den wichtigsten Grundtypen des Tempelbaus in der Levante
vgl. A. Kuschke, „Tempel“, BRL (. Aufl.) –, und W. Zwickel, Der Tempelkult in
Kanaan und Israel (FAT ; Tübingen ), – und –.
42 Ex :–; Lev ; :, ; Ez :–.
 walter dietrich

dass jeder bei ihm Asyl suchende Mensch unantastbar ist.43 Sakrosankt
sind selbstverständlich auch Kultbilder und -symbole (was in Kriegszei-
ten Siegermächte dazu führt, sich bewusst an ihnen zu vergreifen und so
die Verehrerschaft zu demütigen).44
In den meisten Religionen in Israels Umwelt wurden die Götter durch
Kultstatuen bzw. -bilder repräsentiert, doch gab es durchaus auch mehr
oder weniger anikonische Gottesvorstellungen.45 Israel seinerseits kam
nicht so gänzlich ohne Bilder aus, wie es gewisse biblische Autoren gern
hätten.46 Die Ahnfrau Rahel und die Prinzessin Michal gingen mit Tera-
fim um, vermutlich Repräsentanzen von Gottheiten oder vergöttlichten
Ahnen (Gen :–;  Sam :–). Der überwiegend von Frauen
betriebene Hauskult scheint generell wenig Rücksicht auf das Bilderver-
bot genommen zu haben. Das beweisen die sogenannten Pfeilerfiguri-
nen, die in zahlreichen Wohnhäusern namentlich der späteren Königs-
zeit gefunden wurden.47 Im Blick darauf ließe sich sagen, jedes Wohn-
haus habe damals eine Art kleines Heiligtum bzw. einen Schrein ent-
halten. Die religiösen Gesetzgeber und die Propheten Israels goutierten

43 Vgl. C. Houtman, „Der Altar als Asylstätte im Alten Testament: Rechtsbestimmung

(Ex ,–) und Praxis (Kg –)“, RB  () –, der auch die Erzählung
vom Tod des Generals Joab behandelt ( Kön :–): das deutlich mit Schaudern
berichtete Beispiel eines gebrochenen Altarasyls. Eine Reihe von Psalmen wurde auf Asyl-
suchende am Tempel von Jerusalem zurückgeführt (L. Delekat, Asylie und Schutzorakel
am Zionheiligtum: Eine Untersuchung zu den privaten Feindpsalmen [Leiden ]). Neu-
erdings hat Christine Dietrich (Asyl: Vergleichende Untersuchung zu einer Rechtsinstitu-
tion im Alten Israel und seiner Umwelt [BWANT ; Stuttgart ]) die Thematik unter
Einbezug altorientalischen und altgriechischen Materials untersucht und das Asylrecht
gerade in der Vorstellung der Heiligkeit verankert.
44 Vgl. z. B. eine inschriftliche Notiz über die Verschleppung von Götterstatuen aus

Gaza durch Tiglatpileser III. (K. Galling, Hg., Textbuch zur Geschichte Israels [. Aufl.;
Tübingen ], –) sowie die Erzählung  Samuel –.
45 Zu Letzteren vgl. T.N.D. Mettinger, „Aniconism: A West Semitic Context for the

Israelite Phenomenon?“ in Ein Gott allein? JHWH-Verehrung und biblischer Monotheis-

mus im Kontext der israelitischen und altorientalischen Religionsgeschichte (Hg. W. Diet-
rich und M.A. Klopfenstein; OBO ; Fribourg ), –.
46 Vgl. dazu das grundlegende Buch von S. Schroer, In Israel gab es Bilder: Nachrichten

von darstellender Kunst im Alten Testament (OBO ; Fribourg ).

47 Vgl. O. Keel und C. Uehlinger, Göttinnen, Götter und Gottessymbole: Neue Erkennt-

nisse zur Religionsgeschichte Kanaans und Israels aufgrund bislang unerschlossener ikono-
graphischer Quellen (. Aufl.; QD ; Freiburg i.Br. ), § . Der Sachverhalt ver-
dient insofern Beachtung, als kultische Frömmigkeit im alten Israel sich offensichtlich
nicht nur an mehr oder weniger offiziellen Heiligtümern abspielte, sondern auch im pri-
vaten Wohnbereich. Das Heilige konzentrierte sich also nicht auf einige wenige Stellen
im Land (oder gar, wie die joschijanische Reform es sich zum Ziel setzte und wie es dann
in nachexilischer Zeit weitgehend Wirklichkeit wurde, auf eine einzige: den Jerusalemer
Tempel).
 der heilige ort im leben und glauben altisraels 

das nicht. Immer wieder wird das Verbot jeglichen Bilderdienstes ein-
geschärft. Ezechiel entrüstet sich darüber, dass Frauen in Jerusalem den
„Tammuz beweinen“,48 Jeremia, dass judäische Frauen der „Himmelskö-
nigin“ kultische Reverenz erweisen49—vermutlich eine mesopotamisch
angereicherte Emanation der kanaanitischen Aschera. Ein Aschera-Pfahl
soll sogar im Bereich des Jerusalemer Tempels gestanden haben;50 auch
wurde dort für lange Zeit ein Schlangen-Symbol verehrt.51 Selbst die
im Allerheiligsten untergebrachte Lade ist nicht gänzlich ungegenständ-
lich52—und noch weniger das übrige Inventar und Zubehör des salomo-
nischen Tempels, denkt man etwa an die lotosblütenartigen Säulenkapi-
telle oder das „eherne Meer“, die an geläufige Mythologeme altorientali-
scher Religiosität gemahnen.53
Nach den bisherigen Beobachtungen ist die Heiligkeit eines Ortes eine
durch vielerlei Faktoren gestützte und eigentlich unverlierbare Qualität.
Man kann sie vielleicht übersehen oder missachten, sie aber nicht aus der
Welt schaffen. Nun gibt es aber in der Hebräischen Bibel eine Reihe von
Stellen, die den Glauben an die Unberührbarkeit und die Unverzichtbar-
keit heiliger Orte relativieren.

. Der (erzwungene oder freiwillige) Verzicht auf heilige Orte

Heilige Stätten konnten entheiligt werden: und zwar nicht nur versehent-
lich, was dann unbedingt wieder gutzumachen war, sondern absicht-
lich—und das war unverzeihlich. Ein solches Sakrileg musste nach der
Überzeugung antiker Menschen die betreffende Gottheit aufs Schwerste
reizen. Entweder schlug sie zurück, oder ihre Macht und Autorität war
im Kern erschüttert. Im Alten Testament begegnen Beispiele für beides—
aber noch für ein Drittes: dass Gott die Profanisierung heiliger Orte dul-
dete, ja sogar bewirkte.

48 Ez :.
49 Jer :; :–.
50  Kön :; :, ; :.
51  Kön :, vgl. Num :–.
52 Ihr Inhalt wird in deuteronomistischer Literatur verdächtig dezidiert mit den bei-

den steinernen Dekalogtafeln Moses angegeben (Ex :, ; Dtn :–;  Kön :,
). Ob die Lade tatsächlich etwas anderes enthielt, und was, darüber lässt sich nur
spekulieren.
53 Vgl. Schroer, Bilder, –; Keel, Geschichte Jerusalems, –.
 walter dietrich

() Die sogenannte Ladegeschichte berichtet, die Philister hätten sich

bei einem Sieg über die Stämme Israels der heiligen Lade bemächtigt.
Viele Indizien sprechen dafür, dass sie damals auch das Heiligtum, an
dem diese bis dahin aufbewahrt worden war, verwüsteten.54 Der ver-
meintliche Triumph entwickelte sich, der biblischen Darstellung zufolge,
für die Philister zum Desaster: Die Lade kämpfte sich, unter schweren
Opfern für die Philister, wieder frei und kehrte im Triumph in die Hei-
mat zurück; Jhwh ließ sich nicht demütigen!
Von Saul wird mit spürbarem Schaudern erzählt, er habe sich zweimal
an heiligen Stätten—doch wohl zur Verehrung Jhwhs?—vergriffen. Beide
Male geschah dies auf der Jagd nach David. Einmal hatte sich dieser an
eine Nawot oder Najot genannte Örtlichkeit (offenbar in der Nähe von
Rama) zurückgezogen,55 wo er den Schutz Samuels und einer von die-
sem geleiteten Prophetengruppe genoss. Saul sandte wiederholt Häscher
aus, nahm dann aber, als diese unverrichteter Dinge zurückkehrten, die
Sache selbst in die Hand—um jedoch an Ort und Stelle von der íéäìà çåø
überwältigt zu werden, den bei den heiligen Männern präsenten „göttli-
chen Geist“, der ihn in Ekstase (sowie in eine für ihn sehr unvorteilhafte
Position) versetzte.56 Später dann wurde ihm nicht einmal solcher, für
ihn peinliche Schutz vor sich selbst zuteil: Er verfügte im Heiligtum von
Nob eine Massenhinrichtung von Priestern, weil diese angeblich David

54 Die Zerstörung Schilos wird in  Samuel  nicht ausdrücklich mitgeteilt, doch

deutet der Tod Elis und der Abbruch der elidischen Priesterlinie in diese Richtung.
Auch hätte David die Lade nicht ohne Weiteres nach Jerusalem überführen können,
wenn Schilo noch Ansprüche hätte anmelden können. In Jer : wird Schilo als Para-
digma für die Zerstörung eines Jhwh-Heiligtums aufgeführt, nur dass dabei nicht völ-
lig klar wird, ob sie sich in spät-vorstaatlicher Zeit oder irgendwann danach ereig-
nete.
55 Die Schreibweise variiert zwischen mt und den Versionen und innerhalb des mt

zwischen Qere und Ketib (Letzteres scheint ein „Nawjat“ vorauszusetzen). Es ist unklar,
ob es sich um einen Ortsnamen oder um ein Appellativum handelt, das mit der Wurzel
nwh zusammenhängt und etwas wie „Weideland“ (bzw. eine dort befindliche einfache
Unterkunft) meint, vgl. HAL, s. v. úååð.
56  Sam :–. Es ist dies bekanntlich eine Parallel- bzw. Gegengeschichte zu

 Sam :– (vgl. dazu Dietrich und Naumann, Samuelbücher, –; B. Lehnart,
„Saul unter den ‚Ekstatikern‘ [ Sam ,–]“, in David und Saul im Widerstreit:
Diachronie und Synchronie im Wettstreit. Beiträge zur Auslegung des ersten Samuelbuches
[Hg. W. Dietrich; OBO ; Fribourg ], –). Die dortige Szene spielt bei úòáâ
íéäìàä (:). Vermutlich handelt es sich um eben dasjenige Gibea, das als Herkunftsort
Sauls bekannt ist, dem aber zuweilen eine Aura des Heiligen zuerkannt wird: sei diese
nun ebenfalls durch die dort anwesenden Propheten oder durch eine im oder beim Ort
befindliche Kultstätte hervorgerufen.
 der heilige ort im leben und glauben altisraels 

unterstützt hatten: ein grauenvoller Tabubruch, von dem die Bibel mit
Entsetzen berichtet.57 Dass sich diese Untat an Saul rächte, ist bekannt.
Wie steht es in dieser Hinsicht bei den Herrschern, die sich am Jeru-
salemer Tempel vergriffen: Nebukadnezar, Antiochos IV., schließlich
Titus? Exilische Volksklagelieder fragen verzweifelt, ob Jhwh sich die
Ungeheuerlichkeit der Tempelzerstörung durch die Babylonier gefallen
lassen wolle58—und unverkennbar schwingt dabei die Sorge mit, diese
Anfechtung könnte dem Jhwh-Glauben zu schwer werden. Jhwhs Müh-
len mahlten langsamer als hier gewünscht, doch am Ende mahlten sie
trefflich fein: Die siebzig Jahre bis zum Untergang des neubabylonischen
Reichs wurden sprichwörtlich im Alten Testament.59 Dafür, dass Antio-
chos im Jerusalemer Tempel einen „Gräuel der Verwüstung“ aufstellte
(Dan :; :), folgte die Strafe ziemlich auf dem Fuß: in Gestalt der
Makkabäeraufstände, die der Herrschaft der Seleukiden über Palästina
ein Ende machten. Einzig Rom durfte sich anscheinend ungestraft an der
Heiligen Stadt vergehen.

() Des Öfteren ist im Alten Testament im Grundton ungeteilter Zustim-

mung von der Zerstörung heiliger Stätten die Rede, an denen andere
Gottheiten verehrt wurden als Jhwh. Diese und der Glaube an sie sollte
und soll getroffen, ja ausgerottet werden.
„Ihre [der Kanaaniter] Altäre sollt ihr niederreißen, ihre Mazzeben
zerschlagen, ihre Ascheren umhauen und ihre Götterbilder verbrennen“,
lautet in unerbittlicher (und theologisch durchaus bedenklicher) Schärfe
der Befehl in Dtn :. Das ist indes nur der (vorläufige) Endpunkt einer
langen Geschichte. Gideon soll, noch ehe er zur Befreiung Israels von
den Midianitern ansetzte, in seinem Heimatort Ofra einen dem Baal
geweihten Altar niedergerissen und einen daneben stehenden Aschera-
Pfahl umgehauen haben; die Leute des Ortes fürchteten die Rache der
Götter und wollten den Frevler hinrichten, doch am Ende behielten
Baal und Aschera den Schaden, Gideon ging frei aus.60 Jehu richtete im

57  Samuel –; vgl. dazu die—weitestgehend leider nur auf linguistischem Niveau

bleibende—Spezialuntersuchung von C. Riepl, Sind David und Saul berechenbar? Von der
sprachlichen Analyse zur literarischen Struktur von  Sam  und  (Arbeiten zu Text und
Sprache im Alten Testament ; St. Ottilien ). Dazu die Rezension ThLZ  ()
–.
58 Ps ; Klgl :; :–.
59 Jer :–; Sach :; Dan :, .
60 Ri :–. Andreas Scherer (Überlieferungen von Religion und Krieg: Exegeti-

sche und religionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zu Richter – und verwandten Texten

[WMANT ; Neukirchen-Vluyn ], –) wehrt mit guten Gründen eine
 walter dietrich

Baal-Tempel von Samaria ein Blutbad an, ließ den Tempel einreißen und
in den Ruinen eine Latrine anlegen: nach Meinung des biblischen Erzäh-
lers ein schwerer Schlag gegen Baal und den Baalsglauben in Israel.61
Was—um noch einmal auf die Ladegeschichte zurückzukommen—Jhwh
im Dagon-Tempel zu Aschdod angerichtet hat, ist nichts anderes als
eine schwere Form von Kultfrevel: eine Götterstatue so oft und so hef-
tig umzustürzen, bis ihr das Genick und die Hände gebrochen sind.62

() Dem Alten Testament zufolge war Jhwh indes nicht nur mit Angriffen
einverstanden, die sich gegen Kultorte anderer Götter richteten, sondern
auch mit solchen, die ihm selbst geweihten Heiligtümern galten. Der
Grund dafür ist leicht zu erraten: Er fühlte sich (jedenfalls nach Meinung
der betreffenden Autoren) dort nicht recht verehrt—oder er sah dort
sogar statt oder neben ihm andere Götter verehrt. In solchen Fällen war
es besser, dass es mit der Heiligkeit dieser Orte ein Ende hatte.
Das Deuteronomium und das deuteronomistische Geschichtswerk
werden nicht müde, den Kult von Bet-El und Dan63 und den Kult auf
den judäischen úåîá64 anzuprangern, obwohl dort zweifellos Jhwh ver-
ehrt wurde. Nach der deuteronomischen Orthodoxie war dies aber kein

Spätdatierung des Abschnitts ab und weist diesen der Zeit der Omri- oder der Jehu-
Dynastie zu (. Jahrhundert).
61  Kön :–. Auch dieser Text ist keineswegs jung und dtr, sondern gehört zur

Jehu-Novelle aus dem . Jahrhundert, vgl. W. Dietrich, „Jehus Kampf gegen den Baal von
Samaria“, in ibid., Von David zu den Deuteronomisten: Studien zu den Geschichtsüberlie-
ferungen des Alten Testaments (BWANT ; Stuttgart ), –.
62  Sam :–. Wieder ist zu betonen: Dieser Passus ist nicht spät, sondern mit der

Ladegeschichte wohl ins . Jahrhundert zu datieren, vgl. W. Dietrich, Samuel (BKAT

. / ; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), – und –.
63 Die „Sünde Jerobeams“ begleitete nach der Darstellung schon der Grundfassung

des dtr Geschichtswerkes die gesamte Geschichte des Nordstaates Israel und brachte
ihn schließlich zu Fall (vgl.  Kön :– mit  Kön :). Dabei wurde in Bet-El
(und Dan) dezidiert Jhwh als der Gott des Exodus verehrt (vgl.  Kön : und dazu
R. Albertz, Religionsgeschichte Israels in alttestamentlicher Zeit  [GAT .; Göttingen
], –)! C. Levin („Die Frömmigkeit der Könige von Israel und Juda“, in Houses
Full of All Good Things [Hg. J. Pakkala und M. Nissinen; Helsinki ], –, hier
–) meint diese Darstellung für durch und durch deuteronomistisch halten zu
können.
64 Grundlegend ist das—in sich mehrschichtige—sog. Zentralisationsgebot Deutero-

nomium , das zur Richtlinie für die Königsbeurteilungen in – Könige wurde. Vgl.
die gründliche Analyse und Auslegung des Textes bei T. Veijola, Das . Buch Mose: Deute-
ronomium Kapitel ,–, (ATD .; Göttingen ), –, sowie T. Römer, „Une
seule maison pour le Dieu unique? La centralisation du culte dans le Deutéronome et
dans l’historiographie deutéronomiste“, in Quelle maison pour Dieu? (Hg. C. Focant; LD;
Paris ), –.
 der heilige ort im leben und glauben altisraels 

reiner, sondern ein kontaminierter oder gar pervertierter Jhwh-Glaube,

weil in ihn Anteile der kanaanitischen Fruchtbarkeitsreligion gemengt
waren. So wird mit spürbarer Zustimmung von den Sakrilegien berich-
tet, die Joschija an den Höhenheiligtümern in Juda und an dem ehema-
ligen Staatsheiligtum in Bet-El beging.65
Findet all dies seine Rechtfertigung in der Überzeugung, dass der
Tempel von Jerusalem der einzige legitime Ort der Jhwh-Verehrung sei,
so muss es eine furchtbare Anfechtung gewesen sein, dass auch dieser,
nur wenige Jahrzehnte nach der joschijanischen Reform, seinerseits ent-
weiht wurde. Dies umso mehr, als sich spätestens ab der als wunder-
bar erlebten Errettung Jerusalems vor den Assyrern im Jahr  v. Chr.
ein hochfliegender Glaube an die Unantastbarkeit des Zion als des hei-
ligen Wohnsitzes Jhwhs herausgebildet hatte.66 Freilich, es gab längst
auch schon andere Stimmen, welche die Relativität bzw. Konditionali-
tät der Bindung Jhwhs an Zion betonten. Jesaja hatte in seiner Frühzeit-
verkündigung auf die einstmals „treue Stadt“ Jerusalem ein Leichenkla-
gelied angestimmt, weil in ihr „Diebesgenossen“ das Sagen hatten, und
den im Heiligtum Versammelten hatte er die Negativ-Tora erteilt, dass
Jhwh ihre Lieder und Gebete nicht höre, weil ihre Hände befleckt seien
durch asoziales Verhalten. Etwa gleichzeitig und mit ähnlicher Begrün-
dung hatte der Landjudäer Micha angekündigt, Zion werde alsbald zum
Acker umgepflügt werden—und dies, obwohl oder weil die hauptstädti-
sche Elite sich in der Überzeugung sonnte, es könne ihr nichts geschehen,
weil „Jhwh in unserer Mitte“ sei.67 An eben diese Aufsehen erregende
und offenbar eine Bußbewegung auslösende Prophezeiung erinnerten
sich fast  Jahre später Festpilger in Jerusalem, als der Prophet Jere-
mia ganz Ähnliches verkündete und dafür mit dem Tod bestraft werden
sollte; auch er warnte davor, dass ein noch so heiliger Ort seine heilige
Aura und damit den Schutz Gottes verliere, wenn er von den Menschen
zu einer „Räuberhöhle“ gemacht werde.68

65  Kön :–.
66 Vgl. z. B. Jes :–; Ps  sowie O.H. Steck, Friedensvorstellungen im alten
Jerusalem (ThSt ; Zürich ).
67 Jes :–, –; Mi :–. Zum sachlichen Kontext dieser Texte in der pro-

phetischen Sozialkritik des . Jahrhunderts vgl. R. Kessler, Staat und Gesellschaft im vor-
exilischen Juda: Vom . Jahrhundert bis zum Exil (VTSup ; Leiden ), – und
–.
68 Zum geschichtlichen und literarischen Ort der Tempelrede Jeremias, von der ein

vor-deuteronomistischer (Jeremia ) und ein deuteronomistischer Text künden (Jere-

mia ), vgl. A. Graupner, Auftrag und Geschick des Propheten Jeremia: Literarische Eigen-
art, Herkunft und Intention vordeuteronomistischer Prosa im Jeremiabuch (Biblisch-Theo-
 walter dietrich

Mit solchen Äußerungen ist die Zerstörung Jerusalems und des Tem-
pels im Jahr  vorweggenommen und legitimiert: Jhwh kann das
Unfassbare geschehen lassen, weil diese heilige Stätte nur mehr dem
Schein nach der Ort seiner Gegenwart ist, er in Wahrheit aber schon
längst daraus verabschiedet worden ist. Eben dies ist auch der Aussa-
gegehalt der großen Vision Ezechiels vom Auszug des äåäé ãåáë aus
Jerusalem gen Osten: in Richtung der  und  nach Babylonien
Deportierten.69 Jhwh ist an „seine Stadt“, den denkbar heiligsten Ort,
nicht gebunden. Er kann überall sein, auch im dezidiert nicht-heiligen
Feindesland. In die gleiche Richtung zielt der Brief Jeremias an die Ver-
bannten, in dem es heißt, Jhwh sei zu finden, wo immer er gesucht werde:
also keineswegs nur in der heiligen Stadt Jerusalem, sondern ebenso in
der Fremde.70
Als einige Jahrzehnte später die Rückkehr von Babylonien in die Hei-
mat möglich geworden und die Chance zur Neuerrichtung des Tempels
gekommen ist, werden neben positiven, ja enthusiastischen71 auch kriti-
sche Stimmen laut: Der Gott Israels brauche keine bestimmte, besonders
heilige Stätte, er könne seinem Volk auch auf andere Weise nahe sein.72
Das Gotteshaus in Jerusalem sei nicht wirklich Gottes Haus, seine Woh-
nung sei vielmehr der Himmel.73 Solch nachdenkliche Töne verbinden
sich—wie schon bei den vorexilischen Propheten—mit sozialen Mah-
nungen: Es gehe nicht an, Rind und Schafe zu opfern—und zugleich
Menschen und Hunde umzubringen.74 Ja, eigentlich sei der Opferkult
am heiligen Ort ganz überflüssig: Gott brauche keine Opfer, ihm gehöre

logische Studien ; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), –. Laut Mt : hat sich Jesus auf die
jeremianische Tempelkritik berufen und damit erneut großen Unmut ausgelöst.
69 Ez :–.
70 Jer :–. In spiritualisierter Form ist dieser Gedanke aufgenommen in Lk :–

.
71 Hier haben sich besonders die Propheten Haggai und Sacharja hervorgetan; davon

zeugen nicht nur die von ihnen überlieferten Worte (Hag :–; Sach :–), sondern
auch ihre hervorgehobene Erwähnung in Esra :. Laut Esra : und :– hat bereits
Kyros (–) den Tempelbau in Jerusalem verfügt; doch hat ihn offenbar erst Darius
(–) in die Tat umgesetzt.
72  Sam :–. Zur nachexilischen Datierung („DtrN“) siehe W. Dietrich, „Nieder-

gang und Neuanfang: Die Haltung der Schlussredaktion des deuteronomistischen Ge-
schichtswerkes zu den wichtigsten Fragen ihrer Zeit“, in ibid., Von David zu den Deute-
ronomisten, –.
73  Kön :; Jes :.
74 Jes :.
 der heilige ort im leben und glauben altisraels 

ohnehin die gesamte Tierwelt; man möge ihm doch „Dank opfern“ und
im Übrigen „unsträflich wandeln“—das stelle ihn vollauf zufrieden!75
So zeigt sich denn: Der heilige Ort bzw. heilige Orte spielen eine
bedeutende Rolle im Leben und Glauben Altisraels. Zugleich aber hat
Israel ein Gespür entwickelt für den Unterschied zwischen der Heiligkeit
von Orten und der Heiligkeit Gottes.

75 Ps :–; vgl. Jes :–.

 VOLK OHNE LAND: ÜBERLEGUNGEN ZUR
RELIGIÖSEN NEUORIENTIERUNG DES JÜDISCHEN
VOLKES IN DER PERSISCHEN DIASPORA

Ruth Koßmann

. Die Reflexion des Glaubens in der persischen Diaspora

.. Einleitung
Alles deutet darauf hin, dass das jüdische Volk in der persischen Diaspora
die eigene Identität neu finden musste—abseits von religiös bestimmten
Grundpfeilern des „Mit-Seins“ Gottes in der Gabe des Landes und seiner
Präsenz im Tempel.
Das Volk wurde konfrontiert mit den vorderasiatischen Gottheiten,
wie sie die assyrisch-babylonische Kultur vor allem in den Gottheiten
Anu, Enlil, Schamasch, Sin, Marduk und Ischtar anboten. In der Ausein-
andersetzung mit diesem polytheistischen Kult konnte die vom Grund-
satz her auf einem monotheistischen Grundpfeiler aufbauende Religion
des jüdischen Volkes dem in der Frühzeit des Exils entweder ablehnend
gegenüberstehen oder ihn unter Aufgabe des bisherigen religiösen Tra-
ditionsgutes adaptieren.
Dieser Beitrag wird Überlegungen zu einer entscheidenden Entwick-
lung in der Ausprägung der jüdischen Religion wiedergeben: In der Aus-
einandersetzung mit der der babylonischen folgenden persischen Kul-
tur und der mazdayasnischen Religiosität seiner Herrscher konnten sich
synkritische Ausprägungen formen.1

.. Die Religion der persischen Herrscher: Mazdaismus bzw.

Zoroastrismus
Von Bedeutung ist, dass die medisch-persische Herrschaft unter Kyros I.
und seinen Nachfolgern tolerant gegenüber der Religionsausübung der

1 Die Bezeichnung Mazdaismus (vgl. mazdayasnisch) bezieht sich auf den persischen

Gottesnamen Ahura Mazda.

 ruth koßmann

unter ihr vereinten Länder agierte.2 Doch während die alten babyloni-
schen Gottheiten längst über Ländergrenzen hinweg populär waren, stieg
in der Zeit der Achaemeniden eine bis dahin eher unscheinbare religiöse
Denkrichtung zu neuem Ruhm auf. Der Mazdaismus mit Zarathustra als
Stifter und Lehrer des religiös-ethischen Gedankenguts, wurde von den
Achaemeniden zur Staatsreligion gekürt. Diese war im Grundzug streng
monotheistischer Natur.
In dem Awesta findet sich die älteste Wiedergabe dessen, was Zara-
thustra vor mehr als  Jahren von diesem Gott verkündete:3 Ahura
Mazda, der „Weise Herr“, dessen Wesenheit zu beschreiben problema-
tisch erscheint,4 ist der alleinige Gott. Er, das „höchste Wesen“, lehrte
durch seinen Propheten der Menschheit das ethische Handeln nach
Wahrheit und Lüge zu unterscheiden. Er, der Schöpfer, unterteilte die
Welt in das Reich des Geistes und das des irdischen Seins und steht so
mit ihr in Wechselwirkung. Ein Gott schließlich, der seine Identität nicht
an einen kultischen Ort, ein zugeteiltes Land, an die Geschichte mit sei-
nem Volk gebunden hat, sondern sich an den Menschen offenbarte in
der Forderung eines an Wahrheit orientierten, ethischen Handelns.
Wann und wo immer sich die Exulanten des jüdischen Volkes mit
dieser Ausformung eines monotheistisch-religiösen Gedankenguts kon-
frontiert sahen, werden sie sich unmittelbar angesprochen gefühlt haben
dürfen. Die sich darbietende Möglichkeit, die eigene religiöse Identität
nicht aufgeben zu müssen und gleichzeitig weitab vom bisher identi-
tätsstiftenden Land ein eigenes Selbstverständnis formen zu können, ist
offensichtlich. Mehr noch, diese Bewegung war lebensnotwendig, um
nicht sang- und klanglos in der Geschichte aufzugehen (vgl. Israel 
v.Chr.). So fand gerade in der Diaspora der Prozess statt, in dem sich aus
dem Kultus des deportierten jüdischen Volkes das „Judentum“ als ethni-
sche Identifikation und religiöse Ausdrucksform zu entwickeln begann.

2 Vgl.  Chr :–; Esra :–; :–; :–; Nehemia . S.a. H. Lommel, Die
Religion Zarathustras: Nach dem Awesta dargestellt (Hildesheim  = Tübingen ),
.
3 Vgl. Lommel, Religion, . Die umstrittene Datierung des Wirkens Zarathustras

reicht von  (vgl. Xanthos, Zeitgenosse des Herodot, in seinen Λυδιακ#) bis 
v.Chr. Ich stütze mich auf Lommel, der „für den frühesten festen Punkt die andeutende
Nennung des Gottesnamens Mazda bei Sargon“ annimmt und die Ansicht vertritt, „daß
Zarathustra vor  v.Chr. gewirkt habe“ (Lommel, Religion, ).
4 Lommel, Religion, –. „Ahura Mazda“ ist „eigentlich namenlos und wird mit

einer Wesensbeschreibung, nicht einem Personennamen genannt, und dabei ist Mazda
‚der Weise‘ der charakterisierende, somit einem Namen näher stehende Bestandteil“
().
 volk ohne land 

. Die Diasporaliteratur als Quelle

für religionsgeschichtliche Einflüsse

.. Die Problematik der literarischen Vorlagen

Hat man sich die Begrifflichkeit des zoroastrischen Gedankenguts in
ihrem scheinbar zeitlosen Bedeutungsrahmen und die religionsge-
schichtlichen Hintergründe der mazdayasnischen Religion vor Augen
geführt, so meint man, deren Einfluss auf die exilisch-nachexilische Lite-
ratur der Bibel überall heraushören zu können; sei es in den sich seit dem
Exil entwickelnden großen literarischen Gattungen wie der apokalypti-
schen und weisheitlichen Literatur, in Tritojesaja oder aber auch in den
bis dato nicht gebräuchlichen Vorstellungswelten wie sie uns z. B. in der
„Himmels“-Terminologie (vgl. z. B. Esra :) oder der Angelologie im
Danielbuch (vgl. Sacharja) begegnen.
Es ist problematisch, diese Beeinflussung faktisch nachzuweisen. Die
Ursache dafür liegt im schwierigen Verständnis der Übersetzung des
Awesta.5 Damit ist auch die Problematik der terminologischen Diffe-
renzen zwischen der awestischen und der aramäischen bzw. hebräi-
schen Sprache angesprochen. Des Weiteren wird die Untersuchung die-
ser These dadurch erschwert, dass von der Literatur aus der Perserzeit
kaum etwas übrig geblieben ist.6 Für unsere Überlegungen gehen wir
jedoch davon aus, dass auch verloren gegangene Texte die Grundlage
für die biblische Diasporaliteratur sein könnten. Ähnlich wie für den
in Qumran entdeckten Text QPrNab7 eine Beeinflussung auf Daniel 
anzunehmen ist,8 muss man für die Diasporaliteratur textliche Vorlagen

5 Vor allem in den Gathas, die auf Zarathustra selbst zurückgehen, „gibt es rätselhafte
Stellen, teils wegen der Altertümlichkeit der Sprache, teils weil es auch da Überlieferungs-
störungen gibt“ (Lommel, Die Gathas des Zarathustra [Basel ], ).
6 K. Koch, „Daniel  im Licht neuer Funde“, in The Book of Daniel in the Light of New

Findings (Hg. A.S. van der Woude; Leuven ), .

7 Publiziert wurde dieser Text  von J.T. Milik unter „ ‚Prière de naboniede‘ et

autres écrits d’un cycle de Daniel“, RB  () –. Vgl. R. Meyer, Das Gebet des
Nabonid: Eine in den Qumran-Handschriften wiederentdeckte Weiheitserzählung (Berlin
), .
8 J.J. Collins, „New Light on the Book of Daniel from the Dead Sea Scrolls“, in

Perspectives in the Study of the Old Testament and Early Judaism: A Symposium in Honour
of Adam S. van der Woude on the Occasion of His th Birthday (Hg. F. García Martínez
and E. Noort; VTSup ; Leiden ), –, zieht die Schlussfolgerung, dass die
Bedeutung des aramäischen Textes QprNab darin liege, „that it throws light on the
traditional story that underlies Daniel , whether the author of Daniel knew this specific
text or not“ ().
 ruth koßmann

annehmen, die ihren kulturellen Hintergrund in der Lebenswelt Babylo-

niens und Persiens haben. Das bedeutet aber, dass Texte weltlichen und
religiösen Inhalts in Form von literarischen Ausdrucksformen, Bildern
und Symbolen Eingang in die Literatur des Diasporajudentums gefunden
haben. Nun scheint in der prosaischen Diasporaliteratur wie dem Daniel-
buch, dem Estherbuch9 und der Josephnovelle eine offensichtlich leicht
zugängliche Quelle für derartige Forschungen vorzuliegen, da diese am
ehesten den Nachweis für fremdreligiöse Beeinflussung liefern.10

.. Der monotheistische Schwerpunkt in den Diasporaerzählungen des

Danielbuches
In der Esthererzählung und in der Josephnovelle haben sich inhaltli-
che Schwerpunkte gebildet, die das judäische Diasporaleben beispielhaft
unter dem Aspekt des gesellschaftlichen Aufstiegs des Höflings am aus-
ländischen Hofe thematisieren. In deren Duktus ist jeweils eine an per-
sönlichen, kulturellen (vgl. Genesis  und ) oder religiösen (vgl. Esth
:) Eigenarten orientierte Integrationsproblematik hineinverwoben, die
die Protagonisten stellvertretend für das ganze Volk bewältigen müssen.
Dagegen scheinen die Hauptpersonen im Danielbuch bereits am Hofe
des Königs situiert. Auffällig ist, dass die Erzählungen in Daniel  und –
 den monotheistischen Glauben in das Blickfeld rücken. Denn anders
als im Danielbuch zielt die Traumdeutung Josephs in Genesis  nicht
darauf, den Gott Israels als den wahren Gott des Landes zu inthronisie-
ren. Auch das Estherbuch hat kein Interesse an der Verherrlichung des
Gottes des jüdischen Volkes. Es sind die Hörer, die in den Erzählungen je
Gottes verborgenes und doch sich selbst offenbarendes Handeln erken-
nen. In Dan : dagegen huldigt der König diesem Gott, indem er stell-
vertretend vor Daniel Proskynese übt und sich zu dessen Gott als dem
„Gott der Götter, dem Herr der Könige“ bekennt.
Für die judäischen Exulanten geht es im Danielbuch also um die
grundlegende Frage ihrer religiösen Orientierung und damit zugleich

9 Vgl. A. Meinhold, „Die Gattung der Josephsgeschichte und des Estherbuches:

Diasporanovelle I“, ZAW  () –; ders., „Diasporanovelle II“, ZAW  ()
–.
10 Meine Untersuchungen, in denen ich die für das Estherbuch zugrundeliegenden

ursprünglichen vier Erzählungen nichtreligiösen Ursprungs redaktionsgeschichtlich als

Textvorlagen für den mt nachzuweisen versucht habe, begründen diese These. Vgl. hierzu
R. Koßmann, Die Esthernovelle: Vom Erzählten zur Erzählung: Studien zur Traditions- &
Redaktionsgeschichte des Estherbuches (VTSup ; Leiden ).
 volk ohne land 

um ihre Identität im fremden Land. So zeigt sich hier die hervorgehobene

Bedeutung dessen, wer der Gott Daniels und der übrigen Judäer ist.

.. Der Gott Daniels

In Daniel  wird die landesweite Adoration eines Standbildes eingefor-
dert. Die Pointe der Geschichte von der Rettung aus dem Feuerofen endet
indes in :c mit der königlichen Erkenntnis über den Gott Daniels:
„Denn es gibt keinen anderen Gott, der auf diese Weise retten kann.“
Auch Dan : hat einen Lobhymnus auf den einen Gott zum Inhalt. Und
in Dan : fällt das Urteil über Belschazzar, weil er diesen einen Gott,
den Schöpfer, Erhalter und Lenker königlichen Handelns nicht geprie-
sen hat. Schließlich findet sich am Ende der Erzählung von Daniel in der
Löwengrube (:–) ein königliches Bekenntnisschreiben an alle Völ-
ker: In diesem einen „lebendigen Gott“, der in „Ewigkeit bleibt“, und des-
sen „Königreich nicht zerstört werden wird“, ruht die eigentliche Wahr-
heit und Weisheit, die dem König für seine Regentschaft unerlässlich
scheint. Der Held der Geschichte macht dies evident.
Sein Wissen und seine Weisheit, seine göttliche Rettung aus der Bedro-
hung und die Einsicht des Königs, alles dies deutet darauf hin, dass hier
ein alter Glaube zugunsten eines erneuerten und weiseren Glaubens,
bezeugt durch einen seiner überzeugten Anhänger, ausgetauscht wird.
Doch ist bemerkenswert, dass es sich in dem aramäischen Teil des
Danielbuchs (Kap. –) nicht um den Gott Israels zu handeln scheint.
Denn Daniels Gott ist autark gegenüber Orten und Zeiten. Er ist ein
großer (:), lebendiger (:, ) Gott, der Gott der Götter (:), der
höchste Gott (:; :, ), der in Ewigkeit Lebende, der Retter, der
Gott des Himmels (Dan :–, , ; vgl. Esra :; :, , ), ein
Gott schließlich, der mit den Possessivpronomen „mein“, „unser“, „euer“,
als Bekenntnis-Gottheit identifiziert wird und als dessen „Diener“ Daniel
tituliert wird (Dan :, , , ; ).
Die nachfolgenden Aussagen und Bilder über diese Gottheit, über den
„Hochbetagten“ (Dan :), den „Menschensohn“ (:), den „Mann in
Leinen“ (:) sowie die sich entfaltende Angelologie in Daniel –,
alles das sind Einsprengsel einer neuen Beschreibung Gottes, inmitten
der ab Kapitel  wieder vertrauten Erinnerungen an den Gott der Väter,
der mit seinem Volk Geschichte schrieb und sich in ihr offenbarte.
Doch um welchen Gott handelt es sich in den älteren Schichten des
Danielbuchs? Wem ordnete sich die judäische Diasporagemeinde zu,
wenn von „ihrem“ Gott die Rede ist?
 ruth koßmann

. Die Neubeschreibung der Herrschaft

Gottes unter Einfluss des persischen Denkens

.. Überlieferungsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zum Danielbuch

Folgen wir mit der sogenannten Aufstockungshypothese11 K. Kochs der
Überlieferungsgeschichte des Danielbuchs in seinen verschiedenen
Schichtungen, so scheint es möglich, mit den im Danielbuch verarbei-
teten Geschichten in die Zeit vorzustoßen, deren älteste Teile Koch dem
Ende des . Jh. v.Chr. zuordnet: die Statuenvision (Dan :–), die
Vier-Tier-Vision (:–) und die Legende der drei Männer im Feu-
erofen (:–). Der in der Forschung bestehende Konsens über die
dem Danielbuch zugrundeliegenden mündlichen „Überlieferungs- und
Motivgeschichte der Stoffe“12 interessieren hier insbesondere.
Selbst wenn Koch zahlreiche Formen iranischen Denkens im Daniel-
buch ausmacht (so z. B. die „Menschensohn“-Thematik,13 die parsische
„Auferstehungsgewissheit“)14 und dem Danielbuch allgemein iranische
Eschatologie- und Dualismusgedanken zuschreibt,15 so spiegeln diese
jedoch vor allem spätere und weiterentwickelte Formen der mazdayas-
nischen Bildersprache wider.
Es sind die frühesten Erzählstränge des Danielbuchs, in denen der
mazdayasnische Einfluss auf die jüdische Religion beobachtet werden
kann. Für Koch ist schon rein sprachlich evident, dass das aramäische
Danielbuch ins beginnende . Jh. v.Chr. zu datieren ist. Folglich reichen
seine mündlichen Vorstufen in die persische Zeit zurück.16
Diese Überlegungen lassen sich beispielhaft untermauern durch das in
Dan :– verarbeitete Motiv vom Baum mit den vier Ästen. Inhaltliche
Parallelen zwischen dem Traum des Königs von dem weltumspannenden
Baum finden sich im persischen Schrifttum. Der Text, überliefert bei
Herodot (.), erzählt vom Traum des persischen Königs:
Während Xerxes zum Kriege rüstete, hatte er noch einen dritten Traum.
Die Magier, die er befragte, deuteten den Traum so, daß die ganze Erde
und alle Völker ihm untertan werden würden. Dieser Traum war folgen-
dermaßen. Es erschien Xerxes, als sei er mit einem Ölzweig bekränzt,

11 K. Koch, Das Buch Daniel (EdF ; Darmstadt ),  ff.

12 Ebd., .
13 Ebd., –, s. Punkt .–.
14 Ebd., .
15 Ebd., –. Vgl. vor allem –.
16 Ebd., .
 volk ohne land 

dessen Triebe die ganze Erde überschatteten; danach verschwand der

Kranz von seinem Haupte.17

Auf dem Hintergrund der offensichtlichen Nähe des persischen Materi-

als zu Daniel  ist die Eigenaussage des Danieltextes neu zu bestimmen,
denn hier wird exemplarisch deutlich, dass Daniel  das widerspiegelt,
was in „maßgeblichen Kreisen“ des Diasporajudentums in der von der
persischen Kultur beeinflussten Umwelt für richtig gehalten und adap-
tiert wurde.18

.. Die Doxologien in Daniel  und  im Vergleich mit persischen

Palastikonographien
Insgesamt weisen die Überreste der Literatur der Perserzeit Parallelen
zu den Besonderheiten des Danielbuchs auf. Bei den Königsinschriften
und der Palastikonographie sind diese evident.19 So taucht die Abfolge
von Absenderangabe und doxologischem Ausruf in Dan :– in
umgekehrter Reihung bei den altpersischen Inschriften auf.

Altpersische Inschrift Dan :–

Ein großer Gott (ist) A(h)uramazda,
der diese Erde schuf, der jenen
Himmel schuf, der den Menschen
schuf, der die Segensfülle (?) schuf
für den Menschen, der den n.n.
zum König machte, den Einen zum
König der Vielen, den Einen zum
Befehlshaber von Vielen.
Ich bin n.n., der große König,
König der Könige, König der
Länder-Völker, König in dieser
großen Erde fernhin.
Nebukadnezzar der König, an alle
Völker, Nationen und Sprachen,
die irgendwo auf der Erde wohnen:
Allumfassend sei euer Friede!
Es hat mir gefallen, die Zeichen und
Wunder kundzutun, die der höchste
Gott an mir getan hat. Wie groß sind
seine Zeichen und wie gewaltig seine
Wunder! Seine Königsherrschaft
ist eine ewige Königsherrschaft,
und seine Herrschaft währt von
Generation zu Generation.

Als Besonderheit zeigt sich in den offiziellen Inschriften seit Darius I.

der hymnischen Preis des „Weisen Herrn“ Ahuramazda, des Schöpfers
und Regenten der Welt. Auch die „göttliche Einzigartigkeit wird hier in
gleicher Weise wie beim aramäischen àéìò àäìà, [‚der höchste Gott‘]

17 Herodot, Historien: Deutsche Gesamtausgabe (Hg. H.W. Haussig; . Aufl.; Stuttgart

), .
18 Koch, „Daniel “, .
19 Ebd., .
 ruth koßmann

zum Ausdruck gebracht, und dies wird denn auch die reichsaramäische
Wiedergabe der persischen Aussage gewesen sein.“20
Eine ebensolche Doxologie findet sich neben Dan :– in zwei-
facher Form noch in Dan :b– und in :. Diese Doxologien be-
schreiben den Verständnishorizont, in dem Daniel  zu lesen ist (vgl.
Dan :!). In der dreimaligen formelhaften Wiederholung der Deutung
des königlichen Traumes (:, , ) wird evident, dass hier um die
Erkenntnis der Lebenden—einschließlich der aktuell Herrschenden—
über die einzigartige Allmächtigkeit Gottes gerungen wird.21 Es ist der
König, der zur Erkenntnis der Allmacht Gottes kommen soll. Damit
spricht Daniel  keine spezifisch jüdische Sprache, denn am Beispiel des
mächtigen Nebukadnezzars soll die Unumgänglichkeit des Bekenntnis-
ses zu dem einzigen Gott deutlich werden.22 Dass der Text dabei von
dem „höchsten Gott“ spricht, ist augenfällig. Tatsächlich impliziert die-
ser Name jedoch den Gedanken an den „weisen Herrn“, Ahura Mazda,
der identisch mit dem einzigen Gott verstanden werden muss. Das Spezi-
fikum dieser Aussage im Danielbuch ist die Darstellung Gottes als Herr-
scher über das ewige Königreich (àúåëìî). Die Entscheidungsgewalt des
Großkönigs ist damit nur Teil einer hinter allem irdischen Machtgebaren
stehenden politischen Souveränität Gottes. Letztlich bestimmt sie den
Ausgang politischer Ereignisse: Gott selbst steuert, verleiht und entzieht
die Macht den Mächtigen im „Königreich der Menschen“. Die mögliche,
ja, wahrscheinliche Identität des Gottes Daniels mit dem persischen Gott
Ahura Mazdas ist offensichtlich.
Wie aber lassen sich die Nuancen zwischen dem Bekenntnis des jüdi-
schen Autors zu Gott und der persischen Ausdrucksform gegenüber
Ahura Mazda erklären? Wir sollten von einem Autor ausgehen, der
sich von diesem Denken punktuell abzusetzen sucht. Andererseits ist
zu bedenken, dass das Selbstbekenntnis der Könige zu Ahura Mazda in
den Palastinschriften nicht mit der Verbreitung des Mazdaismus insge-
samt verglichen werden kann. Die Durchsetzung der mazdayasnischen
Religion in der Gesellschaft und ihr Einfluss auf persisches Denken
haben sich, wie im Folgenden exemplarisch gezeigt wird, umfassender
bemerkbar gemacht. Ein jüdischer Autor wird darum auch kaum jene
herrschaftszentrierten doxologischen Aussagen, als vielmehr den Ein-
fluss grundlegender religiöser Erkenntnisse reflektiert haben. Dass er

20 Ebd., .
21 Ebd., .
22 Ebd., .
 volk ohne land 

sich in der Auseinandersetzung mit diesen auf Erzählungen im Königs-

milieu stützt, mag dagegen mit der Einführung der mazdayasnischen
Religion seitens der Herrschenden zu tun haben. Insofern erscheinen
die offensichtlich geringen Nuancen im Ausdruck des jüdischen Autors
eher erstaunlich, da ihre inhaltlichen Gemeinsamkeiten eine ausdrück-
liche Offenheit gegenüber den persischen Quellen zum Ausdruck brin-
gen. Diese sind selbst in der heute vorliegenden, überlieferten Fassung
des Textes noch sichtbar.

.. Die Herrschaft Ahura Mazdas in den Yästs Zarathustras

Die oben dargelegte, sichtbare Annäherung der Machtbeschreibung des
jüdischen Gottes an die religiöse Gedankenwelt Persiens lässt sich mit
der Sichtung der ältesten, auf Zarathustra selbst zurückgehenden Yästs
des Awesta weiter verfolgen.
In der Auseinandersetzung mit dem, was mit dem altpersischen Wort
„Chshathra“ gemeint sei, stellt Lommel eine Doppeldeutigkeit im Sinne
von „Reich“, „Königswürde“ als auch „Herrschaft“ fest. In der Inschrift
von Suez beispielsweise bedeutet es das seltener gebrauchte „Reich“:
„Ahuramazda . . . der den Darius zum König machte, der dem König
Darius das große Reich, das tüchtige Rosse und Männer hat, verlieh.“
Doch ist die Verleihung der Königswürde und des damit verbundenen
Machtbereiches nicht beliebig.
Zarathustra selbst ereiferte sich mit dem gleichen Begriff „Chshathra“
darüber, „daß schlechte Menschen Macht und Herrschaft ausüben . . .
Y.,: ‚Solche, die gute Herrschaft üben, nicht die schlechte Herrschaft
üben, sollen über uns herrschen‘, und Y..: ‚Darnach frage ich, wie
der ist, der als ein Verständiger die Herrschaft über Haus und Gau
und Land durch Wahrsein zu fördern bestrebt ist; ist er so wie du, o
Weiser Herr?‘ “23 Herrschaft, hier verstanden im privatrechtlichen Sinne,
kann wohl jedem verliehen werden, wird jedoch bewertet nach ihrer
Ausrichtung auf das Wahrsein und dem Guten Denken. Entscheidend ist
letztlich, dass sie von der Herrschermacht Ahura Mazdas selbst verliehen
wird: „Dein, o Weiser, ist die Herrschermacht“ (Y. .).
Daher schließt sich die Aussage daran an, „daß der Weise Herr durch
seine Herrschaft (Herrschermacht) etwas bewirkt (Y.,), aus seiner
Machtfülle heraus spricht (Y.,), [und] zusammen mit der Herrschaft

23 Lommel, Religion, .

 ruth koßmann

herbeikommt (Y.,) . . . “24 Die Herrschaft Ahura Mazdas wird als abso-
lut verstanden, sie ist Vorbild und in ihrer Art vollkommen.
Doch in dem derzeitigen Weltzustand, in dem sich Gutes und Böses
vermischen oder gegeneinander kämpfen, hat sie sich noch nicht durch-
gesetzt. Erst die gänzliche Herrschaft des „Weisen Herrn“ bedeutete das
Reich Gottes. Und dieses Reich ist vor allem für den Menschen ein
zukünftiges. Wir fragen daher: Lässt sich diese Idee vom Reich Gottes
mit dem im Danielbuch verstandenen Reich Gottes identifizieren?

.. Der Gedanke vom Anbruch des Reiches Gottes in Daniel  und das
zoroastrische Motiv vom Baum mit den vier Armen
In der Frage nach dem Grundgedanken vom anbrechenden Reich Got-
tes finden sich in Daniel  (vgl. Daniel ) mögliche Antworten. Als Deu-
tungshintergrund für Daniel  bietet sich noch einmal das zoroastrische
Bild des mythischen Baumes an (vgl. § .).25 Die Deutung der vier Mate-
rialien des Standbildes mit vier vergehenden Weltreichen im Traum des
Nebukadnezzar scheint auf den mythischen Baum aus der zoroastrischen
Tradition zurückzugehen. Seine Äste symbolisieren dabei die Zeitab-
schnitte in der kosmischen Geschichte, indem sie mit der Regierungszeit
bestimmter Könige in Verbindung gebracht werden, deren Bestimmung
jedoch eine untergeordnete Rolle spielt. Entscheidend ist der erste, gol-
dene, und der vierte, mit Tonerde vermischte, eiserne Ast. Repräsentiert
erster den idealen Herrscher „Kavie Vištašpa“, den ersten König, der die
Lehre Zarathustras annahm, so steht der vierte für das gottlose Regiment
der schlechten daevi, die ihrerseits die gegenwärtige Zeit der Bedrängung
widerspiegeln. Nach dieser Zeit dann bricht die Heilszeit Ahura Mazdas
an.26
Neben dieser Deutung steht diejenige aus jüdischer Perspektive. Auch
sie legt den Ursprung von Daniel  in die Zeit kurz nach dem Fall

24 Ebd., .
25 F.H. Polak, „The Daniel Tales in Their Aramaic Literary Milieu“, in The Book of
Daniel in the Light of New Findings, –.
26 Polak meint, dass diese Deutung an dem zentralen Moment der Zerstörung der

Statue im Danielbuch scheitern müsse, da diese im Traumbild des Baumes keine Parallele
habe. Sinn mache sie nur, wenn sie das Ende des Neubabylonischen Reiches aufzeige.
Er führt weiter aus, dass die allerdings vorhandene Ähnlichkeit der Erzählung mit
dem persischen Mythos für einen späteren Autor Grund genug gewesen sei, diese für
die Verfolgungssituation unter Antiochus IV. neu zu begreifen (Polak, „Daniel Tales“,
a. a. O.).
 volk ohne land 

des Neubabylonischen Reiches.27 Daniel  spiegelt im Traum-Rätsel die

Negativ-Propaganda gegenüber dem Heidentum wider, wie sie in der
Zerstörung des Standbildes zum Ausdruck kommt. Zugleich wird der
Zusammenbruch des heidnischen Reiches mit der sich anschließen-
den Herrschaft Jhwhs prophezeit.28 Vergleicht man Daniel  mit Aussa-
gen Deuterojesajas, wird man auf die historische Manifestierung dieses
Gedankens in der Regentschaft des Kyros verwiesen.
Auch wenn diese Deutung plausibel erscheint, so wird der Herkunft
der eschatologischen Erwartung aus der mazdayasnischen Tradition
dennoch zu wenig Rechnung getragen: Unterschieden werden muss, ob
die vorliegenden Texte von persischen (und im religiösen Sinne mazda-
yasnischen) Einflüssen auf das Diasporajudentum sprechen oder ob sie
von der Aufnahme, Verarbeitung bzw. Übertragung dieses Gedankengu-
tes in einer sich später entwickelnden, schriftlich fixierenden jüdischen
Theologie zeugen.
In jedem Fall aber bezeugen beide Verstehensweisen, dass der ideolo-
gische Gedanke eines kommenden Reiches, in dem die Heilszeit Gottes
mit sich durchsetzender Gerechtigkeit und Frieden endlich anbricht, in
Daniel  sowie in Daniel  erneut aufleuchtet. Wenn in Daniel  das Bild
des Baumes auch anders als in Kap.  Bestandteil der Erzählung selbst ist,
ist dennoch der gleiche Geist hervorzuheben, aus dem beide Erzählun-
gen heraus überliefert wurden: die Überwindung des Bisherigen durch
eine neue Heilszeit.

.. Der Gedanke vom „Reich Gottes“ im Danielbuch

Die neue Heilszeit steht im unmittelbaren Bezug zum anbrechenden
Reich Gottes. Wenn es um das „Reich Gottes“ im eigentlichen Sinne geht,
dann findet sich diese Vorstellung ausschließlich in der aramäischen
Abfassung des Buches, in Daniel –.29 In diesen Kapiteln ist das „Reich“,
das Gott an eben die babylonischen und medischen Großkönige vergibt
und ihnen genauso wieder entziehen kann, identisch mit dem Gott
zugeschriebenen „Reich“. Weltreich und Gottesreich sind also eins.30

27 I. Fröhlich, „Daniel  and Deutero-Isaiah“, in The Book of Daniel in the Light of New

Findings, .
28 Ebd., .
29 R.G. Kratz, „Reich Gottes und Gesetz im Danielbuch und im werdenden Judentum“,

in The Book of Daniel in the Light of New Findings, –.

30 Ebd., . Allerdings zeige sich in Dan :– und  der Bruch dieses Zusammen-

hanges durch die Eigenmächtigkeit des vierten, nach Kratz Interpretation, griechischen
 ruth koßmann

Der ideologischen Analogie von Welt- und Gottesreich entspricht in

Daniel – zudem auch die der göttlichen und irdischen Gesetzgebung.
Mit diesem Gedankenwerk füllt „Dan – gewissermaßen für die baby-
lonische Gola die exilische Lücke der  Jahre von  Chr , konzepti-
onsgetreu aus.“
Die nun neue Identifikation beider Bereiche zeigt sich in der Erkennt-
nis, „wonach Davididen und nach ihnen nicht-israelitische, hier persi-
sche Könige (vgl. Nebukadnezar in Jer –, Kyros in Jes –) als
deren legitime Rechtsnachfolger im ‚Reich Gottes‘ (mlkwt yhwh) regie-
ren und dieses eine, von Jhwh vergebene judäische ‚Reich‘ verwalten;
und sie zeigt sich an der nicht minder speziellen Vorstellung vom Gesetz
(twrh, dt), das in einem Gesetz Gottes und des judäischen oder persi-
schen Königs sein soll.“ Eben diese Vorstellung geht auf die persische
Reichsidee seit Dareios I. zurück, „wonach die von Ahuramazda geschaf-
fene Welt und die vielen unterworfenen Völker/Länder auf ihr in dem
einen Reich des einen von Gott eingesetzten Großkönigs sowie in seinem
Gesetz, das die Gesetze der Völker zu persischem Reichsrecht erklärt,
ihre Einheit und ihren Bestand haben.“31 Dieser Gedanke hat sich in
der deuteronomistischen Geschichtskonzeption und maßgebend in allen
von ihr beeinflussten Schriften niedergeschlagen.32
Die Voraussetzung für die „Absorption“ persischen Gedankenguts in
den Glauben Israels ist die Auseinandersetzung mit ihrem Kern. Diese,
in der Zeit seit Darius I. ideologisch so gedeuteten Idee des „Reiches“,
wurde von den Anhängern des jüdischen Glaubens übernommen. Sie
entstammte dem Mazdaismus. Dessen Mitte ist gekennzeichnet von dem
tiefen Glauben an einen Gott, dessen Herrschaft menschliche Macht-
und Lebensbereiche schöpferisch eröffnen kann, zugleich gesetzlich ein-
grenzt und gleichermaßen auch wieder an sich reißen kann. Dies mag die
Grundlage für die Entwicklung eines neuen Gottesverständnisses gewe-
sen sein, mit dem das jüdische Volk in Persien konfrontiert wurde.
Doch ist dieses Gottesverständnis keine herrschaftspolitische Erfin-
dung der Achaemeniden, wenngleich sie dieses auch dazu genutzt haben

Reiches. Am „Ende der Tage“ (:) ziehe diese Loslösung im Gericht vernichtende Kon-
sequenzen für das Weltreich nach sich (vgl. Daniel –).
31 Ebd., .
32 Kratz fügt an, dass dieser Gedanke sich in der deuteronomistischen Geschichtskon-

zeption niedergeschlagen habe. Es sei zu prüfen, ob diese im Danielbuch sich deutlich

abzeichnende Geschichtsbetrachtung nicht gerade die nachexilische Theologiegeschichte
bestimmt habe—und dabei nicht nur die Propheten, sondern auch die Psalmen- und
Weisheitsliteratur bis über das gesamte Alte Testament hinaus (ebd., ).
 volk ohne land 

werden, ihr machtpolitisches Selbstverständnis religiös zu untermau-

ern. Das öffentliche Bekenntnis zum Zoroastrismus war bereits weit ver-
breitet. Das bezeugen Papyri von Elephantine, der persischen Militär-
station an der Südgrenze Ägyptens. In ihnen wird der offizielle Name
der zoroastrischen Religion (mazdayazn/mazdēzn) aufgeführt. Dies wie-
derum lässt auf Bekenner dieser Religion in früh-achaemenidischer Zeit
schließen. „Eine solche Verbreitung setzt eine nicht unbeträchtliche Zeit
der Entwicklung voraus, umso mehr, wenn die Heimat der Religion . . .
im fernen Nordosten des iranischen Reiches war.“33
Sicher ist, dass sich zoroastrische Ideen in den Aussagen Darius I.
rekonstruieren lassen. So lobte er in einer griechischen Inschrift einen
kleinasiatischen Satrapen wegen der Fürsorge für den Ackerbau und der
Pflege der Erde, rügte jedoch, dass auf ein Heiligtum des Apollo keine
Rücksicht genommen wurde.34 „Darius beruft sich bei seinen Großtaten
und Erfolgen auf Befehl, Willen und Gnade des Auramazda . . . Er ver-
urteilt Auflehnung gegen sich und jedes sonstige Unrecht als Lüge. Diese
Auffassung des Unrechts als ‚Lüge‘, seine wiederholte Warnung vor der-
selben und Empfehlung der Wahrheit entspricht durchaus der zoroastri-
schen Anschauung.“35 Zudem proklamiert die mazdayasnische Religion
mit aller Deutlichkeit die alleinige Verkündigung und Verehrung Ahura
Mazdas und verurteilt andersgläubige Volksgenossen als „Teufelsanbe-
ter“, womit jene gemeint sind, die dem alten Volksglauben anhingen.36
Legen wir also die Idee vom „Reich Gottes“ den Schreibern des Daniel-
buchs zugrunde, dann geht es im Kern der Botschaft des Danielbuchs
um mehr als um eine herrschaftsorientierte, politische Idee. Manifestiert
hat sich im Danielbuch ein tiefer greifendes, den Glauben des Diaspora-
judentums zutiefst erschütterndes Zeugnis. Eine Botschaft, die—und das

33 Lommel, Religion, . Und doch, wägt Lommel ab, sollten die achaemenidischen
Könige dem Zoroastrismus nicht angehangen haben, dann müsste Ahura Mazda außer-
halb dieser prophetischen Überlieferung als oberster Gott des altiranischen Volksglau-
bens verehrt worden sein. Waren sie dagegen Zoroastrier, dann wäre kein Zeugnis außer-
halb dieser Religion über diesen Gott überliefert (ebd., ).
34 Siehe W. Dittenberger, Sylloge Inscriptiorum Graecarum (. Aufl.; Leipzig ),

:–.
35 Lommel, Religion, .
36 Ebd., . Vgl. den Bericht des assyrischen Königs Sargon, der bei seinem Feldzug

gegen die Meder die Namen einiger Stadtfürsten aufführt. Unter diesen „befindet sich ein
Mazdaku und ein Maztaku, beides Schreibungen für iranisch Mazdaka“, einer Ableitung
des Gottesnamens Mazda (ebd). Auffallend ist, dass der Anspruch der alleinigen Vereh-
rung Ahura Mazdas von den religös-toleranten persischen Herrschern nicht durchgehal-
ten werden konnte (vgl. § ..)
 ruth koßmann

ist der eigentliche Zugang zu dieser Neugestaltung des Glaubens—die

bisherige Erfahrung mit dem Gott Israels nicht in Frage stellt, sondern
in der Konfrontation mit der Erkenntnis der Ur-Schöpfergottheit Persi-
ens „Ahura Mazda“ über sich hinauswachsen konnte. Die Wirkkraft des
Gottes Israels hat sich unter dem Einfluss des persischen Gottes enorm
ausgeweitet. Sie ist nicht nur persönlich erfahrbar, umgreift nicht nur
die Erde und eine numinose, von Menschen unerreichbare „Gottesferne“
(z. B. Ps ), sondern erstreckt sich nun visionär über diese Sphären
hinaus in den Himmel und ist, temporal gedacht, fähig, Vergangenheit,
Gegenwart und vor allem Zukunft zu beherrschen.
Diese religiöse Weltanschauung trifft auf ein Volk, das seinem Land,
und in diesem, seiner kultischen Mitte beraubt, eine neue Identität zu
bilden genötigt ist, um nicht unterzugehen. Mehr noch, wir erleben im
Danielbuch die Bekenntnisse einer Glaubensgemeinschaft, die sich in der
Diaspora unter günstigsten Bedingungen eben dieser nötigen Neuaus-
richtung ihres Glaubens gewidmet hat und versteht, dass sie die bishe-
rigen Gottesoffenbarungen deshalb nicht ad acta legen muss, sondern
diese sogar ergänzt und bereichert.
Damit bezeugen die Danielerzählungen im religionsgeschichtlichen
Sinne keinen synkretistischen, sehr wohl aber einen synkritischen Pro-
zess, der in der persischen Diaspora die Theologie des Judentums grund-
legend neu bestimmte.37

. Erzählerische Motive in Daniel 

und ihr mazdayasnischer Hintergrund

.. Die „Märtyer“-Erzählungen in Daniel  und  und die Entscheidung

für den einen Gott
Ein Gegenargument für die oben dargelegte These könnten die Märtyrer-
Erzählungen in Daniel  und  liefern. Als Erzählungen, die exemplarisch
die Hintergründe für den makkabäischen Aufstand wiedergaben (vgl.
 Makk :–), wurden sie, wie in der Forschung vielfach behauptet,

37 Nicht die unkontrollierte Vermischung der Religionen (synkretistisch), sondern

die kritische Auseinandersetzung mit der persischen Religion (synkritisch) forderte vom
Diasporajudentum einen Prozess, in dem alte Glaubensaussagen und neue Erkenntnisse
über die Offenbarungen Gottes nebeneinandergestellt und miteinander verglichen wer-
den mussten. Weil sie einander ergänzten und sogar weit über das Bisherige hinauswie-
sen, führten sie schließlich zu einer bewussten Neubildung des Glaubens.
 volk ohne land 

auf die Danielerzählungen hin komponiert. Andererseits könnte Daniel

 auf der Wiedergabe einer älteren Erzählung babylonischer Herkunft
basieren, in der Nabunaid den Versuch unternahm, den Mondgott Sin als
Hauptgottheit zu etablieren.38 Auch die hinter Daniel  stehende Überlie-
ferung könnte einen babylonischen Ursprung haben, denn Judäer nutz-
ten in der persischen Diasporasituation aramäische Propagandaerzäh-
lungen zur Darstellung der eigenen Situation. Diese hoben die Überwin-
dung des babylonischen Reiches als Tat Gottes hervor (Daniel ; ; )
und demonstrierten die persische Überlegenheit (Daniel ).39
Nun provozierte die Toleranzpolitik Persiens für die eigene Situa-
tion der judäischen Diaspora keine Verfolgungssituation, und es nötigte
daher auch nichts, eine jüdische Märtyrererzählung zu kreieren. Der
Befund, dass der aramäische Erzählkern auf die persische Zeit zurück-
geht, macht daher fraglich, welche Intention hinter der Aussage steht. So
kommen wir erneut zu der Annahme, dass sich das Diasporajudentum
die Tradition der persisch-mazdayasnischen Glaubensaussagen zunutze
machte.
Doch mit welcher Absicht sollten diese Erzählungen dann einen Ein-
gang in die jüdische Erzählkultur des Diasporajudentums gefunden ha-
ben? Dem soll im Folgenden nachgegangen werden.
Bisher gehen die Kommentatoren weitestgehend davon aus, dass die
Präferenz der mazdayasnischen Religion mit der ihr eigenen Toleranz-
politik der Achaemeniden ohne Widerspruch der Bevölkerung hinge-
nommen wurde. Tatsächlich liegt der Duktus in Daniel  und  auf der
Einsicht über die Macht Gottes. Er rettet und bewahrt in der gegenwär-
tigen Situation der Anfeidung von außen—exemplarisch zum Ausdruck
gebracht in der Erfahrung und dem Bekenntnis der Personen Daniels
und seiner drei Gefährten. Ganz anders dagegen verhält sich dies im
Estherbuch, in dem der ethisch-religiöse Konflikt (Esth :) mit der
amtierenden Macht (Haman) in einem Pogrom gegen das ganze jüdi-
sche Volk eskaliert. Die Erzählung zeigt dabei vor allem die Gefahren auf,
die aus der Durchsetzung spezifischer religiöser Eigenarten erwachsen,
sobald sie in Verdacht stehen, nicht herrschaftskonform, sondern gegen
das ausschließliche Gesetz der Meder und Perser (vgl. Esth :; und vor
allem Dan :, , ) gerichtet zu sein.

38 Vgl. W. von Soden, „Eine Babylonische Volksüberlieferung von Nabonaid in den

Danielerzählungen“, ZAW  () –.

39 Polak, „Daniel Tales“, –. Erst später, so Polak, wurden die Erzählungen zur

Unterstützung des Kampfes gegen die hellenistische Jason-Gruppe herangezogen.

 ruth koßmann

Dass es mit der Ablösung der babylonischen Machthaber und mit

ihnen zusammen auch deren Gottheiten durch die neue Religionspo-
litik der Achaemeniden zu Konflikten gekommen sein muss, ist mög-
lich, wenngleich nicht zwingend. Daniel  und  stellen daher auch keine
grundlegende Entscheidungssituation dar, sondern sie manifestieren ers-
tens die Toleranzpolitik der Perser, indem von dem ihnen eigenen Gott,
dem sie dienen, nicht nachlässig geredet werden dürfe (Dan :) und
zweitens die Erkenntnis des einen „höchsten“ Gottes als dem, dem Vor-
rang zu geben ist, dass man „vor ihm zittere und sich fürchte“ (Dan
:).40
Keine der beiden Erzählungen fordern nach persischem Religionsver-
ständnis abschließend die ausschließliche Verehrung des Gottes Daniels
und seiner Gefährten. Sie geben diesem Gott jedoch einen klaren Vor-
zug. Der Inhalt der Erzählung begründet dies symbolhaft.

.. Daniel  und der mazdayasnische Feuerkult

Als Hauptpersonen im Duktus von Daniel  werden drei jüdische Män-
ner genannt. In Daniel  ist nur von Daniel die Rede. Vorgestellt wur-
den uns die Männer bereits schon in Daniel . Hier (Dan :) findet
die Umbenennung der drei Gefährten Daniels, die, bisher theophore
(vgl. die Silben „-ja“ und „-el“) Namen tragend (ìàùéî, äéððç und äéøæò),
auf den Gott Israels hinwiesen, nun, nach Sitte des ausländischen Hofes
(vgl. Gen :; Esth :), akkadische, persische und aramäische Namen
bekommen.41 Auch wird von ihrer enthaltsamen Lebensweise berichtet
(Dan :). In Dan :,  (vgl. :!) ziehen sie der Speise des Königs
vegetarisches Essen vor. „Möglicherweise hat diese Weigerung, „sich
nicht . . . unrein zu machen“ auch zu tun mit Reinheitsvorschriften, die
auch sonst in späten atl. Schriften belegt sind (Tob ,–; Jdt ,–;
 Makk ,).“42 Und doch ist offensichtlich, dass weder der im baby-

40 An dieser Stelle ist ursprünglich der „höchste Gott“ gleichermaßen zu identifizieren

mit Ahura Mazda und Jhwh!

41 Auffallend ist hier, dass in dem Namen Abed-Negos (åâð ãáò = „Diener Nabus“) der

Gott Nabu, Sohn des Marduk, und als Gott der Schreibkunst und der Weisheit verehrt,
identifiziert werden kann. Auch Daniels neuer Name Belschazzar (øöàùèìá) enthält
einen Götternamen „Bel“. Dagegen lassen sich zu Schadrach (êøãù) und Meschach (êùéî)
keine Bezüge herstellen, wenn auch besonders die leichte Änderung Mischaël (ìàùéî =
„wer ist wie El?“) in Meschach (êùéî = „wer ist wie . . .?“) ins Auge fällt. Für den neuen
Namen bleibt unklar, wer mit der ê-Endung gemeint sein könnte.
42 D. Bauer, Das Buch Daniel (Neuer Stuttgarter Bibelkommentar ; Stuttgart ),

.
 volk ohne land 

lonischen Exil lebende König Jojachin ( Kön :–), noch Nehe-

mia als Mundschenk des persischen Königs diese Enthaltsamkeit prakti-
ziert haben. Nun findet der Aufruf zur Verweigerung tierischen Opfers
und gegenüber dem Schlachten und dem Genuss fleischlicher Speise in
den Schriften Zarathustras einen klaren und entschiedenen Ausdruck. So
richtet sich Zarathustras Verurteilung eines solchen Brauchs gegen einen
beliebten Helden der mythischen Geschichte: „Y.,: ‚Ein solcher Frev-
ler ist bekanntlich auch Yama, der Sohn des Vivahvan, der den Menschen
. . . zu gefallen suchet, indem er Stücke von Rind(fleisch) aß . . . ‘ . . . Die
religiöse Verurteilung, die sich gegen das heidnische Götzenopfer rich-
tet und die kulturelle, die sich darauf bezieht, daß das Rind nicht nur
als Spender von Milch-Nahrung (und wohl auch als Zugtier) gehalten,
sondern um seines Fleisches willen getötet wird—diese beiden Gesichts-
punkte fallen für Zarathustra ganz zusammen.“43 Ob die mazdayasni-
sche Aufforderung zur fleischlichen und alkoholischen Enthaltsamkeit
auch tatsächlich das Verhalten der drei Gefährten und Daniels begrün-
det, kann im Zusammenhang dieser Darstellung nur vermutet werden.
Der Vergleich zeigt dennoch eine mögliche Beeinflussung des jüdischen
Denkens.
Weitere Beobachtungen zu Motivüberschneidungen im Danielbuch
und der mazdayasnischen Religion lassen sich nun auch mit den beiden
Erzählungen von den drei Männern im Feuerofen und Daniel in der
Löwengrube machen.
Die Überlieferung in Daniel  stellt die gesetzliche Aufforderung zur
Adoration eines goldenen Standbildes (:), wie oben beschrieben, in
den Mittelpunkt des Geschehens.44 Hier fällt nun die ungewöhnliche

43 Lommel, Religion, . Auch den altüberkommenen Kult, der mit dem Opfern
einhergehenden Praxis der Kelterung des „todfernhaltenden“ Saftes der Hauma-Pflanze,
bekämpft Zarathustra heftig. So benennt er diesen abfällig als „Harn des Rauschtranks“
(Y. .).
44 Von Soden hat auf den historischen Hintergrund dieser Darstellung aufmerksam

gemacht: Er identifiziert Nebukadnezzar nicht mit dem historischen Nabonid, sondern

vielmehr mit ihm in „einer von den feindlichen Mardukpriestern bewußt entstellten
Volksüberlierferung“. Dieser ließ in Babylon, wo Marduk verehrt wurde, eine Statue des
Mondgottes Sin aufstellen. Die Empörung darüber förderte die „Ausstreuung gehässiger
Gerüchte“ durch die Priester des Marduk und führte infolgedessen zu einer späteren
Sagenentwicklung um dieses Ereignis (vgl. Herodot .). Weiter, so Von Soden, sei die
dargestellte Unduldsamkeit Nabonids bei der angeordneten Verehrung des neuen Gottes
bemerkenswert. Die „fremden Göttern gegenüber sonst sehr weitherzige[n] Einstellung
der Babylonier“, die sie mit den Persern teilten, sei eine „fremde Haltung“ und zeige
vielmehr „die Nachwirkung des Schmähgedichtes . . . gerade in c. [des Danielbuchs,
Vf.].“ (Bzgl. „Schmähgedicht“ vgl. S. Smith in ANET and TGI) Die tödliche Bestrafung
 ruth koßmann

Bestrafung derer ins Auge, die sich dieser Aufforderung verweigern:

die Verbrennung im Feuerofen (:). Das Motiv der Verbrennung im
Feuerofen kann jedoch als von Herrscherseite angeordnete Strafe in
keinen Schriften nachgewiesen werden. Der „Schmelzofen“ ist in der
alttestamentlichen Weisheit (z. B. Spr :) vielmehr ein Zeichen für
die Läuterung des Menschen: „Was im Ofen besteht, ist das eigentlich
Wichtige und Gute im Menschen, das Schlechte, die ‚Schlacke‘ wird
ausgeschieden (Ez ,..).“45
In eben diesem Deutungszusammenhang werden wir erneut in die
mazdayasnische Vorstellungswelt verwiesen. So ist in diesem Denken
das „Feuer, das dem Gottlosen Verderben droht, für den Frommen nicht
nur unschädlich, sondern von Zarathustra als Schutz angesehen.“ (Vgl.
Yasna .: „Wir wünschen, o Herr, daß dein verheißendes (?), mächtiges
Feuer, das durch das Wahrsein kräftig ist, dem Unterstützenden leuch-
tende Hilfe bringe, dem Feindseligen aber sichtbares Leid . . . “)46 Diese
Vorstellung bezieht sich auf die letzten Dinge, das Endgericht, in der der
Mensch mit seinem Leben und Denken offenbaren muss, ob er zu den
Lügnern oder den wahrhaft Denkenden gehört.47
Nun hat der Feuerkult in Zarathustras Lehre seine Quelle in der reli-
giösen Tradition Indiens,48 in der Agni als Gott und Rta als zugehöri-
ger ethischer Begriff für „ein Sich-richtig-Verhalten von Menschen und
Dingen“49 verstanden wurde. Diese göttliche Verankerung des Feuers

der Mardukpriester ist wegen der Zerstörung eines Großteils der Tafeln nicht überliefert,
wenngleich sie deshalb nicht auszuschließen ist. (Von Soden, „Volksüberlieferung“,  ff.)
45 Bauer, Buch, .
46 Lommel, Religion, .
47 Neben der endzeitlichen Feuerprobe ist noch auf ein bei den Iraniern gebräuch-

liches Ordal hinzuweisen, nach dem auch das Durchschreiten zwischen zwei Feuern
bzw. das Übergießen mit geschmolzenem Metall praktiziert wurde. Beiden Feuerprakti-
ken liegt der Gedanke zugrunde, über die Rechtschaffenheit des Angeklagten Gewissheit
erlangen zu können.
48 Der Feuerkult hat eine zentrale Stellung behalten in der Lehre Zarathustras. „Ver-

mutlich war dieser in Iran ursprünglich ebenso, wie wir es von Indien kennen, mit
Hauma- (ind. Soma-) Kult und Schlachtopfern verbunden; aber Zarathustra hat ihn aus
dieser Verbindung herausgelöst“ (Lommel, Religion, ). Alle anderen Kultformen wur-
den abgelehnt. Der Kult des Feuers war begründet in seiner symbolischen Bedeutung und
der Fähigkeit auf das Wahrsein zu lenken. Interessanterweise sind nun Feuer und „Wahr-
sein“ (Aša) in den Gāthās auf das engste miteinander verbunden. „Fire itself has there
the significant epithet ‚strong through aša‘ . . .; and to venerate Aša offerings are made
to the fire.“ Diese kultische Verbindung scheint, so Boyce, ein Erbe der heidnischen Welt
zu sein, wobei jedoch „the personification of Aša seems Zoroaster’s own“ (M. Boyce, A
History of Zoroastrianism [HO Abt., Bd. , Abschn. , Lfg. , H. A; Leiden ] ).
49 Lommel, Religion, .
 volk ohne land 

wird bei Zarathustra entmythologisiert. Das Feuer ist Teil der irdischen
Welt trotz seiner Bezugnahme zum eschatologischen Gerichtsgeschehen.
In Daniel  erweist sich die Feuerprobe der drei Männer als Exempel:
Die drei „Diener des höchsten Gottes“ (:) verbrennen nicht und
die Erkenntnis des Königs, dass ihr Gott ihnen einen Engel schickte,
um seine Diener zu retten (:), überzeugt ihn hinsichtlich dessen
Retterfähigkeiten. Die Männer sind rehabilitiert.
Auf dem Hintergrund mazdayasnischen Denkens ist nun einerseits
die Rechtgläubigkeit, „das ‚wahr‘-Denken“ der Männer bewiesen. Im
Sinne der persischen Verteidigung bzw. Rechtfertigung der neuen Reli-
gion mit Ahura Mazda als dem höchsten Gott und zugleich im Denken
des Diasporajudentums hat sich damit die Größe Gottes in Form der Ret-
tung aus der Gefahr gezeigt.

.. Der Engel in Daniel  und die Amurta Spontas

Zu fragen ist nun noch nach der Funktion der vierten Person im Feu-
erofen, die vom König selbst nachträglich (Dan :) als Gottes Engel
(äëàìî) identifiziert wird. In der zitierten Kombination der Begriffe
Wahrheit, Feuer und „Weiser Herr“ (Ahura Mazda) wird das Feuer in
dem jüngeren Awesta personifiziert als Sohn des „Weisen Herrn“ be-
schrieben (Y. .; .). Aus eben dieser jüngeren Quelle stammend, kann
diese Vorstellung nicht in diese Überlegungen mit einbezogen werden.
Dagegen ist gerade dem Mazdaismus der Gedanke von geistlichen
Wesen immanent. Sie sind die „Klugen Unsterblichen“.50 Bei der Be-
schreibung ihres Wesens drängt sich der Gedanke an die Funktion bib-
lischer Engelgestalten auf. Die sechs „Klugen Unsterblichen“ (Amurta
Spontas)51 der mazdayasnischen Religion vertreten die Eigenschaften
„Gutes Denken“, „Wahrsein“, „Herrschaft (Reich)“, „Fügsamkeit, Erge-
benheit“, „Heilsein“ und „Nichtsterben“. Sie sind erschaffene Wesen Got-
tes, die „als seine Diener und Beauftragten ein Ausfluß seines Wesens
zu sein scheinen.“52 Sie, die „Weisen Herrn“ (Yasna . und .), die

50 Ebd., . Nach Lommel ist fraglich, ob die biblische Bezeichnung „Engel“ den

„Klugen Unsterblichen“ gerecht wird. Lommel selbst lehnt sie als irreführend ab.
51 In der jüngeren Awesta sind aus der Sechszahl der Amurta Spontas sieben geworden

und erinnern in dieser Zählung an die sieben Erzengel aus Tob :.
52 Lommel, Religion, . Den Begriff der funktionalen Identifikation Jhwhs mit seinem

Mal"ak verwendet auch D. Heidtmann, (Die Engel: Grenzgestalten Gottes [Neukirchen-

Vluyn ]). Sowohl im Danielbuch als auch in der apokryphen Literatur beschreiben
Engel „reine Funktionsbezeichnungen, die nicht zur persönlichen Identifizierung oder
 ruth koßmann

in Einheit mit Ahura Mazda gesehen auch seinen Namen tragen, füh-
ren den Willen Gottes aus. Allerdings ist ihnen weder eine individuelle
Bestimmtheit oder Körperlichkeit zu eigen. Diese tritt in dem jüngeren
Awesta mehr in den Vordergrund, wo in Yäsht . von Ahura Mazda
gesagt wird: „ . . . die Gestalten, die er annimmt [sind] die schönen und
großen [Gestalten] der Klugen Unsterblichen“. Damit wird deutlich, dass
die „Klugen Unsterblichen“ wohl an Gottes Wesen teilhaben, ihm aber
zugleich untergeordnet sind: „ . . . sie sind Seiten seines Wesens, Formen
seines Seins und Arten seines Wirkens. Aber sie sind doch Persönlich-
keiten, denn sie sind lebendiger, wirksamer Geist. In dieser Denkform
wird eben Geistiges nicht als Abstraktum gedacht, sondern als leben-
dige Persönlichkeit.“53 Dennoch scheint in Zarathustras Denken eine
sichtbare Wahrnehmung ihres Wirkens nicht vorgesehen, wie es dage-
gen dem angelologischen Wirken im Danielbuch anhaftet. Es ist anzu-
nehmen, dass diese ursprünglich rein geistliche Seinsweise in den Erzäh-
lungen des Danielbuchs figürliche Formen angenommen haben, zumal
sie sich in ihrer Wirkweise nicht von diesen zu unterscheiden schei-
nen.
Neben dem „Guten Denken“ an erster, steht die „Wahrheit“ an zweiter
Stelle in der Reihe der Klugen Unsterblichen. Sie werden bei der Nen-
nung der Amurta Spontas am häufigsten aufgeführt „und zwar besonders
oft mit dem Weisen Herrn selber zusammen“54—„Wahrheit“ dagegen
noch um einiges häufiger als das „Gute Denken“.55 Ist es eben diese Wahr-
heit, die Nebukadnezzar im Feuerofen neben den drei Männern stehend
erkennt (Dan :–)? In dieser Erkenntnis identifiziert die Engelge-
stalt nämlich die Wahrheit über Gott selbst. Sie hat sinnlich-erfahrbare
Gestalt angenommen in der Erzählung von Daniel  (vgl. :!). Damit
distanziert sich das jüdische Denken von dem indo-iranischen Kult,
in dem der religiöse Bezug auf Gottheiten, die ein „Abstraktum“ per-
sonifizierten, ein dominantes Merkmal war.56 Dieses religiöse Denken
ist der jüdischen Tradition dagegen fremd. Gottes Offenbarung hat sie
geschichtstheologisch stets als konkret erfahrbar gedeutet. Dieses

Kontaktierbarkeit . . . dienen. Als funktionelle Bezeichnungen weisen sie über den Boten
hinaus auf die personale Zuwendung Gottes zu seiner Schöpfung“ (ebd., ).
53 Lommel, Religion, .
54 Ebd., . Die Verbindung zwischen Feuer und Engel als Seinsweise Gottes zeigt sich

auch in Ex :.
55 Ebd.,  Anm. .
56 Boyce, History, .
 volk ohne land 

Spezifikum ihrer Theologie hat sie in der Diasporasituation beibehalten

und gestaltete sie unter Einfluss der mazdayasnischen Religion in den
Erzählungen der eigenen Tradition gemäß um.

. Schlussbemerkung

Es reicht nicht, im Duktus des Danielbuchs vor allem in seinen ältes-

ten, aramäisch überlieferten Schichten (–), eine Neuorientierung des
jüdischen Volkes auf religiös-ideologische Werte wie das „Reich Gottes“
nachzuweisen, ohne davon auszugehen, dass sich mit der Auseinander-
setzung zugleich auch das Gottesbild gewandelt hat.
Nehmen wir ernst, dass die Diasporasituation des jüdischen Volkes
tatsächlich großen Einfluss sowohl auf das Schrifttum als auch auf die
Be- und Überarbeitung der alttestamentlichen Texte genommen haben,
dann ist davon auszugehen, dass der Kontakt mit der mazdayasnischen
Religion Zarathustras in der religiösen Orientierung der Diasporage-
meinde daran einen großen Anteil haben musste. Im Danielbuch ist diese
geradezu mit Händen zu greifen. Es ist einer größeren Untersuchung
anheim gelegt, einerseits die Zurückdrängung dieses Einflusses in der
orthodoxen Strömung des sich neu formulierenden Glaubens und ande-
rerseits die Adaption mazdayasnischer Begriffe und Topoi in der nach-
exilischen Theologie zu untersuchen. Festzuhalten ist, dass das Verständ-
nis Jhwhs durch das Kennenlernen Ahura Mazdas verändert wurde. Der
Gottesbegriff des Volkes Israels wurde synkritisch weiterentwickelt und
vor allem in den redaktionellen Überarbeitungsschichten eindeutig auf
Jhwh hin interpretiert. Angestoßen wurde dieser Prozess durch das Exil,
in dem sich die judäische Diasporagemeinde, ein Volk ohne Land und
beraubt seines Kultes, auf der Suche nach einer eigenen religiösen Iden-
tität befand.
 LAND AND COVENANT IN JUBILEES 14

Jacques T.A.G.M. van Ruiten

. Introduction

This contribution examines Jub. :–, in which the interrelated prom-

ises of progeny and land play an important part.1 This passage consists of
two themes which are paralleled in Genesis. The first part, Jub. :–,
is a rewriting and interpretation of the first conclusion of the covenant of
God and Abram as described in Genesis , the second, Jub. :–,
an abbreviation and integration of the first account of Hagar and Ishmael
in Genesis . After an outline of the structure of both Jub. :– and
Genesis – and a comparison between these texts, I will go into the
meaning of the covenant and the promises of progeny and land in Jubilees
 and their significance for the central figures Abram, his wife Sarai, her
slave-girl Hagar, and their sons Isaac and Ishmael.

. Demarcation and Structure of Jubilees 

Jubilees  is demarcated from the preceding pericope (Jub. :–) by

a new beginning in :a (“after these things”) and by an explicit dating.
The events of this chapter take place in the fourth year of the first week
of the th jubilee (am ; cf. :a). Also the events in Jub. :–
 are connected to this year, since the name-giving of Ishmael is dated
“in the fifth year of this week” (:d; am ).2 This means that Sarai

1 For the theme of land in Genesis , see: E. Noort, “ ‘Land’ in the Deuteronomistic

Tradition: Genesis . The Historical and Theological Necessity of a Diachronic Ap-
proach,” in Synchronic or Diachronic? A Debate on Method in Old Testament Exegesis (ed.
J.C. de Moor; OTS ; Leiden ), –.
2 There seems to be an internal contradiction with regard to the dating of the events.

According to Jubilees, Abram was born in am  (Jub. :), and he entered Canaan
am  (Jub. :). This means that, according to the internal system of Jubilees, Abram
was eighty-nine years old, when he named Ishmael in am . According to Jub.
:e, however, the name-giving took place when Abram was eighty-six years old. The
mention of eighty-six years agrees with Genesis at this point (Gen :a). The internal
contradiction seems to originate from the fact that the author of Jubilees is following
 jacques t.a.g.m. van ruiten

gives Hagar to Abram in am , and the subsequent conception of

Ishmael took place in the same year. Therefore, the conception and birth
of Ishmael are closely related to God’s promises of progeny and land to
Abram.3 The events of the next pericope (Jub. :–) are placed twenty-
one years later, namely in the fifth year of the fourth week of the same
jubilee (am ).
Apart from the fact that the events in this chapter are dated in a certain
year, they are also related to a specific period. The first dialogue between
the Lord and Abram takes place “on the first of the third month” (:a),
whereas the second dialogue happens “in the middle of the month”
(:a), “on that day” (:a), “during this night . . . during this month”
(:a).
The passage can be divided into three units: (a) :–; (b) :–; (c)
:–. The first section is a dialogue between the Lord and Abram, in
which the promise of progeny and the problem of inheritance are the
central issues. The second unit is a second dialogue between the Lord
and Abram, in which the promise of land is the central issue. Apart from
the dialogue, Abram also brings sacrifices (:–, ), whereas the
promise of land is interpreted as the conclusion of the covenant (:,
). In the third passage, the relationship between Abram, Sarai, and
Hagar is the central point. Sarai gives Abram her slave-girl, and he begets
a son with her.
The coherence of the chapter is expressed by the parallel structure of
the first and second unit, by the fact that the events in these units are
dated in the same month of the same year, and by the strong thematic
coherence between the first and third unit, which can be seen in the
following chiastic scheme:

A :a: “in the fourth year of this week”

B :c–e: childless, no seed
C :f: give me seed
D :a: He believed the Lord
CD :a–c: He believed that he would have seed
B :d: she bore no children
:–: Hagar gave birth to Ishmael
A :d: “in the fifth year of this week”

Genesis in this passage, without paying attention to the inconsistency. The fifth year in this
week (am ) is the eleventh year after the arrival of Abram in Canaan (am ). This
corresponds with the “ten years” in Gen :, which is omitted by the author of Jubilees.
3 See Jub. :ab: “And Abram was very happy and told all these things to his wife

Sarai. He believed that he would have seed.”

 land and covenant in jubilees  

. An Overall Comparison between

Genesis :–: and Jubilees :–

It is striking that the author of Jubilees on the one hand borrows the text
of Gen :– entirely, except for a short introduction to a direct speech
(Gen :a) and twice “behold” (Gen :a, a), but on the other hand
that he does not take over most of the text of Gen :–. Most striking
is the major omission of Gen :c– that describes the tension between
Hagar and Sarai (Gen :c–), and the subsequent flight of Hagar into
the wilderness (Gen :–). Besides this major omission with regard
to Gen :–, Jubilees has also some other (smaller) omissions (Gen
:b, b, b, elements in a–b, b), some additions (Jub. :a–c,
a, bc, and elements in :d, a, d) and some variations. With
regard to the text of Gen :–, Jubilees has variations and some addi-
tions as well (Jub. :f, ab, b–c, ab, –; elements in :a, d,
b, b, a, b, b). The overall comparison of these texts is shown in
the following scheme:

Genesis :–: Jubilees :–

. Promise dialogue I (:–)
. Promise dialogue II (:–)
. Sarai gives Hagar into Abram
(:–b)
. Tension between Sarai and
Hagar (:c–)
. Hagar’s flight to the
wilderness (:–)
. Ismael’s birth and name-giving
(:–)
. Promise dialogue I (:–)
. Promise dialogue II (:–)
Additions (:–)
. Sarai gives Hagar to Abram
(:–b)
. Ismael’s birth and name-giving
(:c–e)

Neither of the promissory dialogues (Gen :– and :–) are dated
in Genesis, apart from the vague mention of “on that day” (Gen :a),
whereas in the story of Hagar and Sarai (Gen :–), the author of Gen-
esis gives some chronological information: “after Abram had dwelt ten
years in the land of Canaan” (Gen :b) and “Abram was eighty-six years
old when Hagar bore Ishmael to Abram” (Gen :). According to Gen-
esis Abram was seventy-five years old when he departed from Haran to
Canaan (Gen :). This means that he must have been eighty-five years
 jacques t.a.g.m. van ruiten

old when Ishmael was conceived (Gen :b), which is consistent with
the mention of Abram’s age at the name-giving of Ishmael (Gen :).
I have already pointed to the fact that, in contrast to Genesis, the
author of Jubilees anchors both dialogues in his chronological system,
and he brings them in close relation to Sarai’s advise to Abram to take
Hagar as a wife. Both promise dialogues are dated in the same year
as the conception of Ishmael, namely am . The birth and name-
giving of Ishmael (:cd) took place one year later. Both events in the
promissory dialogues occur in the same month, namely the third month
of the year, although not on the same day. The first dialogue (:–)
takes place at the beginning of the third month, the second dialogue
(:–) in the middle of the third month.

. An Analysis of the Rewriting of

Genesis :–: in Jubilees :–

The text will be discussed according to the three units (Jub. :–; :–
; :–). Each time first I present a synoptic overview of the text
of Jubilees as well as the parallel passage in Genesis, and then continue
with a discussion of the differences and similarities between both texts.
In the synoptic overview I put in small caps the elements of Genesis
which do not occur in Jubilees, and vice versa, i.e., the omissions and
additions. In “normal script” are the elements that corresponds in both
texts, i.e., the verbatim quotations of one or more words of the source
text in Jubilees. I put in italics all variations between Genesis and Jubilees
other than addition or omission.4

.. The First Dialogue (Gen :–; Jub. :–)

Genesis :–
a After these things [ ]
the word of Yhwh came to Abram in
a vision:
b “Do not be afraid, Abram,
Jubilees :–
a After these things—in the fourth
year of this week, on the first
of the third month—
the word of the Lord came to Abram
in a dream:
b “Do not be afraid, Abram.

4 Biblical verses are quoted according to the Revised Standard Version with slight

modifications. Quotations from Jubilees are from J.C. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees
(CSCO , Scriptores Aethiopici ), Louvain , with slight modifications.
 land and covenant in jubilees  

c I am your shield; c I am your protector;

d your reward will be very large.”
a Abram said:
b “O, Yhwh God, what are you going to
give me?
c I go on being childless,
d and the son of Mesheq of my
house, he is Damascene Eliezer
[ ].”
a And Abram said:
b “Behold, you have given me no
seed;
[]
c and a slave born in my house
will be my heir.”
a And behold, the word of Yhwh came
to him:
b “This one will not be your heir;
c but rather someone who will come
out of your loins will be your heir.”
a And he brought him outside
b and said [ ]:
c “Look toward heaven,
d and count the stars,
e if you can count them.”
[]
f He said to him:
g “So will your seed be.”
a And he believed Yhwh,
b and he reckoned it to him as
righteousness.
d your reward will be very large.”
a He said:
b “O, Lord, Lord, what are you going to
give me?
c I go on being childless,
d and the son of Masheq, the son of
my maid servant—he is Damascene
Eliezer—will be my heir.
[]
e [ ] You have given me no seed.
f Give me seed.”
[]
a [ ] He said to him:
b “This one will not be your heir;
c but rather someone who will come
out of your loins will be your heir.”
a And he brought him outside
b and said to him:
c “Look toward heaven
d and count the stars,
e if you can count them.”
a When he had looked at the sky
b and seen the stars,
c he said to him:
d “Like this your seed will be.”
a And he believed the Lord,
b and it was counted to him as
righteousness.

Compared to mt Gen :–, Jub. :– has the addition of the dat-
ing (:a), some other small additions (elements in :b, b; :f; b;
ab), some small omissions (Gen :a, and elements in :b, c, a) and
some variations (elements in :a, c, a, d, a, d, b). Some of the dif-
ferences are possibly due to the fact that the text of Genesis the author of
Jubilees uses, is a biblical text different from the Masoretic one. The suffix
(“to him”) to the verb in Jub. : occurs also in the Peshitta, Septuagint,
Old Latin, and Ethiopic text of Gen :b.5 The passive form in Jub. :b
(“it was counted”) occurs also in the Peshitta, Septuagint, Old Latin, and

5 VanderKam, Book of Jubilees, .

 jacques t.a.g.m. van ruiten

Ethiopic text of Gen :b.6 Therefore, we cannot consider these devia-

tions as variations of the biblical text. VanderKam has suggested that a
further biblical text of Genesis-Exodus existed in Palestine which agreed
more often with the Septuagint and the Samaritan Pentateuch than with
the Masoretic Text, but which was nevertheless an independent witness.7
However, this is generally considered to concern small variations which
I will not deal with here.
Jubilees shows a certain freedom in the rendering of the introductory
formula of the direct speeches. In Jub. :a the proper name (“Abram”) is
replaced by a personal noun, in :a the formula is completely changed,8
and the formula of Gen :a is omitted in Jubilees. In Jub. :c, the Lord
is not called “your shield” (êì ïâî) as in Gen :c, but “your protector”
(qāwmka). The author of Jubilees did not use another version of Genesis,
but rather tries to explain the metaphor of the shield, whereas he attempts
to keep the idea of defence at the same time.9
In Jub. :a, it is said that the word of the Lord did not came to Abram
“in a vision” (äæçîá; Gen :a) but “in a dream” (bahÃlm). . It is not
completely clear why Jubilees uses the word “dream.” The construction
“in a vision” is quite exceptional in the Hebrew Bible (Gen :; Num
:, ; Ezek :). The Septuagint reads ν %ρ#ματι. In Gen :, the
Septuagint uses this word in the construction ν %ρ#ματι τIς νυκτς
to translate äìéìä úàøîá. The word äàøî (“vision”) occurs in Genesis
only in Gen :. In the parallel text, Jub. :, the construction úàøîá
äìéìä is not taken over. The root íìç (“to dream”) occurs more often
in the Hebrew Bible, also in Genesis, both as verb (Gen :; :, ,
, ; :, ; :, , , , :) and as nomen (Gen :, ; :,
, ; :, , , ; :, , ; :, , , , , ; :). In places
where Jubilees has a parallel text, often the word “dream” is taken over:
Jub. : (Gen :); : (Gen :–); :– (cf. Gen :–).
Besides, Jubilees adds dream, where they do not occur in Genesis (e.g.
Jub. :; :; :; :).10 In Jub. :a, the author has chosen for “in

6 Ibid. See also Rom :; Gal :; Jas :;  Macc :.
7 See, for example, J.C. VanderKam, “Jubilees and the Hebrew Texts of Genesis-
Exodus,” Textus  () –. Reproduced in From Revelation to Canon, –,
esp. . See also J.C. VanderKam, Textual and Historical Studies (Missoula ), –
.
8 See also QApGen XXII, .
9 Compare the Septuagint, Old Latin, and the Targumim. See A. Salvesen, Symmachus

in the Pentateuch (Journal of Semitic Studies Monograph ; Manchester ), –.
10 See A. Lange, “Divinatorische Träume und Apokalyptik im Jubiläenbuch,” in Studies
 land and covenant in jubilees  

a dream,” because it occurs more often in connection with theophanies.

See however, e.g., Jub. :, where the author adds “in a vision of the
night,” although it is not in Gen :.
The Hebrew of Gen :d is very difficult and widely regarded as cor-
rupt and hardly possible to be correct.11 The major problem concerns the
interpretation of éúéá ÷ùî ïá. The versions have various interpretations,
but appear to presuppose the Masoretic Text.12 The Vorlage of the Sep-
tuagint probably reads éúéá (úá) ïá ÷ùî ïá. “The son of my maid”, (walda
"matya) in Jub. :d might be a rendering of this phrase as well.13 The
addition at the end of the sentence (“[he] will be my heir”) is based on
Gen :c: “and a servant born in my house will be my heir” (ùøåé éúéá ïá
éúà). Therefore, we might speak here about a conflation of Gen :d and
:c in Jub. :d.14 In any case, Gen :c is not taken over in Jubilees.
Instead, there is an addition in Jub. :f: “Give me seed.”15

in the Book of Jubilees (ed. M. Albani et al.; TSAJ ; Tübingen ), –, esp. –.
Lange does not differentiate, however, between visions and dreams.
11 C. Westermann, Genesis – (BKAT .; th ed.; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), –

; G.J. Wenham, Genesis – (WBC ; Waco, Tex., ), , ; H. Seebass, Gene-
sis II: Vätergeschichte I (,–,) (Neukirchen ), , . See also: H. Seebass, “Gen
,b,” ZAW  () –; P. Weimar, “Genesis ,” in Die Väter Israels: Beiträge zur
Theologie der Patriarchenüberlieferungen im Alten Testament (ed. M. Görg et al.; Stuttgart
), –; M. Köckert, Vätergott und Väterverheissungen: Eine Auseinandersetzung
mit Albrecht Alt und seinen Erben (FRLANT ; Göttingen ), , .
12 lxx: % δO υ'ς Μασεκ τIς οκογενο4ς μου οfτος Δαμασκς Ελιεζερ (“The son

of Masek, my steward, this is Damascus Eliezer”); Theodotion reads % υ'ς το4 π: τIς
οκας μου (“The son of the manager of my house”); cf. Vulgate “et filius procuratoris
domus meae iste Damascus Eliezer” (“The son of the manager of my house that is
Damascus Eliezer”). Aquila has: υ'ς το4 ποτζοντος το4 οκου μου (“The son of the
cup-bearer of my house”). The interpretation of Aquila, Theodotion, and Vulgate comes
possibly via ä÷ù (“to drink”). See also Targum Onkelos and Targum Pseudo-Jonathan.
See also Salvesen, Symmachus, .
13 VanderKam, Book of Jubilees, .
14 QApGen xxii: – reads: éðúø[é] ãì [ . . .] øá øæòéìà éððúøé éúéá éðá ïî (“One of my

servants will inherit from me, Eliezer, son [ . . . ] . . . will inherit me”).
15 This sentence is not read by Dillmann (see A. Dillmann, “Das Buch der Jubiläen

oder die kleine Genesis,” Jahbücher der Biblischen Wissenschaft  [] ), nor by Charles
(see R.H. Charles, Mashafa kufale or the Ethiopic Version of the Hebrew Book of Jubilees
(Anecdota Oxoniensia; Oxford ). It lacks also in Charles’ translation of  (see
R.H. Charles, The Book of Jubilees or the Little Genesis: Translated from the Editor’s
Ethiopic Text [London ], ). Also Wintermute does not translate it (see O.S. Win-
termute, “Jubilees: A New Translation and Introduction,” in The Old Testament Pseude-
pigrapha [ed. J.H. Charlesworth; London ], :). However, there seems to be enough
evidence in the manuscripts to read the sentence. See VanderKam, Book of Jubilees, ,
. So also K. Berger, Das Buch der Jubiläen (JSHRZ .; Gütersloh ), .
 jacques t.a.g.m. van ruiten

Jubilees :ab is an addition. The author of Jubilees confirms that

Abram has looked to the sky and seen the stars. The reason for this
addition is not completely clear. The pattern that a command in direct
speech is followed by a narrative element in which the execution of the
command is carried out occurs quite often in the Bible. There are no
versions of Gen : which have the addition of Jub. :ab. According
to Berger it stresses Abram’s loyalty.16

.. The Second Dialogue (Jub. :–)

Genesis :– Jubilees :–

a He said to him:
b “I am Yhwh who brought you from
Ur of the Chaldeans, to give you this
land to occupy [ ].”
a He said:
b “Yhwh God, how will I know that I
will inherit it?”
a He said to him:
b “Take for me a three-year-old calf, a
three-year-old goat, a three-year-old
ram, a turtledove, and a pigeon.”
a He took him all of these [ ],
[]
b and divided them in the middle.
c He put each piece over against the
other,
d but the birds he did not divide.
a The birds of prey came down upon
the carcasses,
b but Abram drove them away.
[]
a He said to him:
b “I am the Lord who brought you
from Ur of the Chaldeans to give
you the land of the Canaanites to
occupy forever and to become
God for you and your seed
after you.”
a He said:
b “Lord, Lord, how will I know that I
will inherit (it)?”
a He said to him:
b “Take for me a three-year-old calf, a
three-year-old goat, a three-year-old
ram, a turtledove, and a pigeon.”
a He took all of these in the middle
of the month.
b He was living at the oak of
Mamre which is near Hebron.
a He built an altar there
b and sacrificed all of these.
c He poured out their blood on
the altar
d and divided them in the middle.
e He put them opposite one another,
f but the birds he did not divide.
a Birds came down upon what was
spread out,
b but Abram drove them away
c and not allowing the birds to
touch them.

16 Berger, Buch der Jubiläen, .

 land and covenant in jubilees 
Genesis :–
a It came to pass that the sun was
going down,
b and a deep sleep fell on Abram;
c and behold, a dread of great
darkness fell on him.
a He said to Abram:
b “Know for a fact that your seed will
be aliens in a land that is not theirs.
c They will be slaves to them,
d and they will oppress them for 
years.
a But I will judge the nation whom
they serve.
b Afterwards, they will leave [ ] with
great possessions.
a But you will go peacefully to your
fathers
b and be buried in a good old age.
a [ ] The fourth generation will return
here,
b because until now the sins of the
Amorites have not been completed.”
[]
a The sun had gone down
b and there was darkness.
c And behold, an oven was smoking,
d and a torch of fire passed between
these pieces.
a On that day Yhwh concluded a
covenant with Abram, saying:
b “To your seed I will give this land,
from the river of Egypt to the great
river, the Euphrates River:
 the Kenites, the Kenizzites, the
Kadmonites,
 the Hittites, the Perizzites, the
Rephaim [ ],
 [ ] the Amorites, the Canaanites, the
Girgashites and the Jebusites.”

Jubilees :–
a It came to pass that the sun was
going down,
b and a terror fell on Abram;
c and behold, a dread of great
darkness fell on him.
d It was said to Abram:
e “Know for a fact that your seed will
be aliens in a foreign land.
f They will enslave them,
g and they will oppress them for 
years.
a But I will judge the nation whom
they serve.
b Afterwards, they will leave from
there with many possessions.
a But you will go peacefully to your
fathers
b and be buried in a good old age.
a In the fourth generation they will
return here,
b because until now the sins of the
Amorites have not been completed.”
a And he awoke from his sleep,
b and got up.
c The sun had gone down.
d and there was a flame.
e And behold, an oven was smoking,
f and a flame of fire passed between
what was spread out.
a On that day the Lord concluded a
covenant with Abram with these
words:
b “To your seed I will give this land,
from the river of Egypt to the great
river, the Euphrates River:
the Kenites, the Kenizzites, the
Kadmonites,
[ ] the Perizzites, the Rephaim, the
Phakorites,
the Hivites, the Amorites, the
Canaanites, the Girgashites, and the
Jebusites.”
 jacques t.a.g.m. van ruiten

Genesis :–: Jubilees :–

[] a It passed (along),
b and Abram offered what had
been spread out, the birds, their
(cereal) offering, and their
libation.
c The fire devoured them.
a During this night we
concluded a covenant
with Abram like the covenant
which we concluded during
this month with Noah.
b Abram renewed the festival
and the ordinance for himself
forever.

Jubilees :– has some additions (:b–c, c, ab, –; ele-
ments in :b, a, b, b), and some small variations (elements in
:b, e, a, b, d–f, b, d, f) with regard to Gen :–.
Remarkably, there is just one minor omission in Jub. :b.17
Some of these differences might be explained by the author’s use of a
text of Genesis different from the Masoretic Text.18 Jubilees :e shows
some variation with regard to the Masoretic Text of Gen :c in that
“each piece over against the other” (åäòø úàø÷ì åøúá ùéà) is rendered
by “opposite one another” (ans. āratihomu baba gas. omu). Jubilees, how-
ever, agrees here with the Septuagint in that there is no equivalent for
åøúá ùéà and an idiomatic rendering of åäòø úàø÷ì.19 Jubilees :a
reads “birds” in line with the Septuagint, Old Latin, and Ethiopic of Gen
:a. The Masoretic Text has èéòä (“birds of prey”). The word sÃfh.
(“what was spread out”; Jub. :a, f) is a rendering of íéøâôä (“the
carcasses”; Gen :a). Charles tries to explain sÃfh. as a result from a cor-
ruption within the Greek stage of Jubilees,20 whereas VanderKam keeps
sÃfh. as a meaningful text. Jubilees :b agrees with Gen :b, in that
Jubilees seems to render the verb áùð (“to drive away”), and not συνεκ#-
Bισεν (Septuagint) which is derived from the root áùé. The word dÃgāde .

17 The mention of Hittites in the list of nations (Gen :) is not taken over by Jubilees.

One can possibly see the Hivites as a variation of it, but see the discussion below. See also
the addition Phakorites in the list of Jubilees.
18 Cf. note .
19 VanderKam, Book of Jubilees, . lxx Gen :c reads: κα:
Bηκεν α*τ$ ντιπρG-

σωπα λλ7λοις.
20 Charles, Mashafa kufale,  n. ; idem, The Book of Jubilees, ; VanderKam, Book

of Jubilees, –.
 land and covenant in jubilees  

(“terror”) in Jub. :b can also mean “astonishment, amazement.” It

differs from mt Gen :b äîãøú (“deep sleep”), but comes close to
κ-
στασις of the Septuagint.21 Note, however, the addition in Jub. :ab
(“And he awoke from his sleep, and got up”). The passive verbal form in
Jub. :d (“it was said”) is in line with the Septuagint, Old Latin, and
the Ethiopic of Gen :a.22 Some manuscripts of the Septuagint read
λλGτρια (“foreign”) like Jub. :e instead of “not theirs.” The addition
“from there” (Jub. :b) possibly reflects the reading of lxx Gen :b
(gδε). Jubilees :d (“a flame”) agrees with lxx Gen :b (φλξ),
whereas mt Gen :b reads äèìò (“darkness”).23
However, beside these small deviations ascribed to the use of a differ-
ent Vorlage from MT Genesis by the author of Jubilees, there are other
disparities between both texts. The text of Jub. : contains some modi-
fications with regard to Gen :. In the first place, there is the variation,
namely that the Lord promises Abram to give “the land of the Canaanites”
and not only “this land” (Gen :). In the second place there is the addi-
tion (“to occupy forever”) that puts emphasis on the eternal possession
of the land. Finally, the end of the verse stresses the being God for Abram
and his progeny (“to become God for you and your seed after you”). These
elements (the land identified by name; the eternal possession of it; the
personal relationship between God and Abram and his progeny) are all
connected with the covenant. One could think here of a possible influ-
ence from comparable passages, especially from the introduction to the
concluding of the covenant in Genesis  (Gen :–). Apart from the
promise of the land and the promise of a numerous offspring, the con-
clusion of the covenant includes here an identified land, a mention of
the eternal possession, and a personal relationship (Gen :–: “And I
will establish my covenant between me and you, and your descendants
after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to
be God to you and to your seed after you. And I will give to you, and
to your descendants after you, the land of your sojournings, all the land
of Canaan, for an everlasting possession, and I will be their God”). The
rewriting of Gen :– in Jub. :– is very litteral. All additions in
Jub. : with regard to Gen : can be explained by the influence of this
parallel passage (namely Gen :–), which also describes a renewal of
the covenant.

21 Cf. VanderKam, Book of Jubilees, .

22 Ibid.
23 Ibid.
 jacques t.a.g.m. van ruiten

The dating of the second dialogue in the middle of the third month
(Jub. :) is connected with the Jubilees’ view of the covenant. The
pact that the Lord concluded with Abram (Jub. :a, a) is made
on the same date as the bond that was concluded with Noah (:a).
This means that the covenant with Abram is understood as a renewal
(:b), which was neglected from Noah’s death until Abram (cf. Jub.
:–).24
The additions in Jub. :b–c,  show the place where Abram lives
(:b), and make explicit the act of sacrifice (:a–c, ). The text of
Genesis is ambiguous in this respect. In Genesis, Abram is ordered to
take sacrifical animals (Gen :–), but it is not clear that he is going
to offer them. In Jubilees, Abram builds an altar (:a), sacrifices all
animals (:b), and pours out their blood on the altar (:c). In the
addition at the end, it is repeated that Abram offers what was spread out.
He sacrifices the animals in the fire, together with the cereal offering and
the libation (:). This is explicitely connected with the concluding of
the covenant, which is seen here as a renewal.
The last difference can be found in the list of nations (Gen :–;
Jub. :b). The mention of Hittites in the list of nations (Gen :)
is not taken over by Jubilees, whereas the Pharokites and the Hivites are
added to the list. One can possibly see the Hivites as a variation of the
Hittites. However, the Hivites also occur in the Septuagint as well as the
Samaritan Pentateuch of Gen :–.25 It is possible therefore that the
Hivites were mentioned in the text of Genesis the author of Jubilees had in
front of him. It is not completely clear why he omitted the Hittites, since
both groups (the Hittites and the Hivites) appear together in comparable
lists of nations (cf. Exod :, ; :; :, ; :; :; Deut :;
:; Josh :; :; :; :; :; Judg :;  Kgs :;  Chron :).
The reason might be that both Genesis and Jubilees present the Hittites
in a favorable light when Abraham buys the cave near Hebron to bury

24 On the covenant of God with Noah in the book of Jubilees, see J.T.A.G.M. van

Ruiten, Primaeval History Interpreted: The Rewriting of Genesis – in the Book of
Jubilees (JSJSup ; Leiden ), –; see also idem, “The Covenant of Noah
in Jubilees .–,” in The Concept of the Covenant in the Second Temple Period (ed.
S.E. Porter and J.C.R. de Roo; JSJSup ; Leiden ), –. See also J.C. Van-
derKam, “Covenant and Biblical Interpretation in Jubilees ,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls Fifty
Years after Their Discovery: Proceedings of the Jerusalem Congress, July –,  (ed.
L.H. Schiffman et al.; Jerusalem ), –.
25 See Gen. Rab. :, where is explained why the Hivites are not in the list of Gen

:–.
 land and covenant in jubilees  

his wife (cf. Gen :–; Jub. :–).26 The Hivites, in contrast, are
placed in a negative light in the book of Jubilees (see, e.g. Jub. :).27
The mention of the Phakorites in the list is unique to Jubilees.28

.. Hagar and Ishmael (Jub. :–)

Genesis :–, – Jubilees :–

a Abram was very happy
b and told all these things to his
wife Sarai.
[] c He believed that he would have
seed.
a Sarai, Abram’s wife, bore him no d She bore [ ] no children.
children.
b She had an Egyptian slave-girl []
whose name was Hagar;
a [ ] a And Sarai advised her husband
Abram
and Sarai said to Abram: b and she said to him:
b “Behold now, Yhwh has []
prevented me from bearing
children;
c go in to my [ ] slave-girl [ ]; c ”Go in to my Egyptian slave-girl
Hagar;
d Perhaps I will be build up [ ] from d perhaps I will build up seed for
her.” you from her.”
e Abram listened to the voice of Sarai a Abram listened to the voice of Sarai,
[ ]. his wife
b and said to her:
c “Do (as you suggest).”
a Sarai, Abram’s wife, took her d Sarai [ ] took her Egyptian slave-girl
Egyptian slave-girl Hagar, Hagar,
b after Abram had dwelt ten []
years in the land of Canaan,
c and gave her to her husband Abram e and gave her to her husband Abram
as a wife. to be his wife.

26 Cf. J.M. Scott, On Earth as in Heaven: The Restoration of Sacred Time and Sacred

Space in the Book of Jubilees (JSJSup ; Leiden ), –.

27 See Scott, On Earth as in Heaven, –.
28 Scott (On Earth as in Heaven,  n. ) suggests that the Phakorites should be

understood as “the Philistines.” However, there is no textual base for this suggestion.
Moreover, it does not explain the addition of this group in the list of Jubilees.
 jacques t.a.g.m. van ruiten

Genesis :–, – Jubilees :–

a And he went in to Hagar,
b and she conceived;
[Gen :c–]
a And Hagar gave birth to Abram to
a son.
b Abram called the name of his son,
whom Hagar bore, Ishmael [ ].
a Abram was eighty-six years old
b when Hagar bore Ishmael to
Abram.
a And he went in to her,
b and she conceived,
[]
c and she gave birth [ ] to a son.
d He called the name [ ] Ishmael in
the fifth year of this week.
e That year was the eighty-sixth year in
Abram’s life.
[]

As can be seen in this synoptic overview, Jub. :– is the rewrit-

ing of Gen :–. The text of Genesis is very shortened in Jubilees,
mainly because Gen :c– is not taken over. Besides this major omis-
sion, Jubilees has also some other (smaller) omissions (Gen :b, b,
b, b; elements in :a, a, a–b), but also some additions (Jub.
:a–c, a, bc, and elements in :cd, d, a, d) and some
variations (which are concerned with the replacement of a proper name
by a personal noun: Jub. :d, b, a, c–d; some other small
variations in :e, e). Jub. :c can be considered as a confla-
tion of Gen :c with Gen :b. This corresponds with the omission
of Gen :b and the additions in Jub. :c. The omission of Gen
:b (“After Abram had dwelt ten years in the land of Canaan”) cor-
responds with the additions in Jub. :b, d (“in the fifth year of this
week”).
The lacking of an explicit dating of the events at the beginning, and by
the mention of “all these things,” the event of Hagar is closely related to
the preceding passage. The story in which Sarai gives her slave-girl Hagar
to Abram takes place in the same year as the concluding of the covenant.
In a certain sense it can be seen as the conclusion of this passage. Abram
complains to God that he has no children up to this moment, and that
the son of Masheq is going to be his heir. God assures that he will get a
numerous offspring, and that he and his offspring will inherit Canaan.
Therefore God establishes a covenant with Abram.
It is made clear that Abram was happy with the promise of many
offspring (Jub. :a–c). We may suppose that he thought that he would
achieve this with his wife Sarai. Ultimately, they would have children.
One should realise that in the book of Jubilees up to the scene with Hagar,
the author has not yet provided any clue to the fact that Sarai could not
 land and covenant in jubilees  

bear children.29 In Genesis, the first thing said about Sarai is that she was
infertile (Gen :: “Now Sarai was barren; she had no child”). Stating
this fact twice, the pivotal role of her barrenness in the story and the
hopelessness of the couple’s situation is underlined.30 In his rewrite (Jub.
:), the author of Jubilees fails to mention that Sarai was barren. He does
not establish her barrenness as a central issue, but rather her descent, her
origin.31
When Sarai continues to have no children (Jub. :d), she advises
Abram to try it with her slave-girl Hagar (Jub. :). It seems that it is
Sarai’s wish to protect Yhwh’s promise made to Abram (Jub. :–) what
makes Abram so happy. It is significant that Gen :b (“Behold now,
Yhwh has prevented me from bearing children”) is omitted in Jubilees.
This indicates that, according to Jubilees, Sarai is probably not really
convinced that she would never bear at all.
The author of Jubilees seems to change the picture of Sarai in compari-
son to Genesis . In Genesis, it is as if Sarai also acts for selfish reasons.32
The text not only reads: “Behold now, Yhwh has prevented me from bear-
ing children” (Gen :b), but also: “Perhaps I will be build up from her”
(Gen :d). Whatever the exact meaning of this phrase is, it focuses its
attention on Sarai or on Sarai’s interest.33 Sarai seems not to make a con-
nection between the offspring that was promised to Abram, and her own
acting in these verses. These elements are changed in Jubilees which not
only not takes over the phrase “Yhwh has prevented me,” but also changes
the phrase “Perhaps I will be build up from her” into “Perhaps I will build
up seed for you from her.” With these small alterations, Jubilees shows
how Sarai acts out of interest of Abram, which is in the end the interest
of God. She does not act for her own sake. It is interesting to see that
Abram asserts explicitly what his wife proposes: “And Abram listened to
the voice of Sarai, his wife and said to her: Do (as you suggest)” (Jub.
:). Jubilees stresses that the marriage of Abram and Sarai is an ideal

29 B. Halpern-Amaru, The Empowerment of Women in the Book of Jubilees (JSJSup ;

Leiden ), , .

30 See, e.g. W.H. Gispen, Genesis : Genesis :–: (Commentaar op het Oude

Testament; Kampen ), ; C. Westermann, Genesis – (BKAT .; th ed.; Neu-
kirchen-Vluyn ), .
31 This aspect of the rewriting of Jubilees is stressed emphatically by Halpern-Amaru,

The Empowerment of Women, –.

32 See, for example, P.R. Drey, “The Role of Hagar in Genesis ,” Andrews University

Seminary Studies  () –, esp. .

33 See, for example, G.J. Wenham, Genesis – (WBC ; Waco, Tex., ), –.
 jacques t.a.g.m. van ruiten

marriage. The partners work together harmoniously to work out the

promise of God.34
In Genesis, there is an interlude (Gen :c–) between the concep-
tion and the birth of Ishmael. In this passage the author deals with the
tension between Hagar and Sarai (Gen :c–), and Hagar’s flight into
the desert (Gen :–). This is completely omitted in Jubilees. There
may have been several reasons for this. It would probably have contra-
dicted the fact of Sarai’s decision to give Hagar to Abram, and Abram’s
positive assertion. By omitting these verses, the author of Jubilees again
stresses his positive view of Sarai. The hostile reproach of Sarai is left
out (Gen :: “And Sarai said to Abram: ‘May the wrong done to me
be on you! I gave my maid-servant to your embrace, and when she saw
that she had conceived, she looked on me with contempt. May Yhwh
judge between you and me!’ ”). Everything that overshadows the posi-
tive image of Sarai and of the harmonious cooperating of wife and hus-
band, united in an exemplary marriage, is left out by Jubilees.35 Also the
fact that Abram puts Hagar under the authority of Sarai, who humiliates
her (Gen :: “But Abram said to Sarai: ‘Behold, your maid-servant is
in your power; do to her as you please.’ Then Sarai dealt harshly with
her, and she fled from her”) is left out, for Sarai’s abuse of her slave girl
would not fit in either in a positive picture of Sarai. In the biblical text, the
humiliation gets a divine approval (Gen :: “The angel of Yhwh said to
her: ‘Return to your mistress, and submit to her’ ”), however, this passage
is not taken over either.
At the same time, it is not only the picture of Sarai that changes
by omitting this large passage, but also that of Hagar. Genesis shows
the arrogance of Hagar after she became pregnant (cf. Gen :: “and
when she saw that she had conceived, she looked with contempt on her
mistress”). This is incriminating for Hagar, and that is possibly the reason
why it is left out in Jubilees.36 Also the long narrative passage in the desert,
in which there is a dialogue between Hagar and the angel of Yhwh, is
omitted (Gen :–). This probably follows from what has been said
thus far. If the arrogance of Hagar is left out, if Sarai does not reproach
Abram, and if Hagar is not humiliated by Sarai, then it is not necessary

34 See Halpern-Amaru, The Empowerment of Women, –, , .

35 Cf. Halpern-Amaru, The Empowerment of Women, .
36 Cf. P. Söllner, “Ismael und Isaak—muss der eine den anderen denn immer nur

verfolgen? Zum Verhältnis der beiden Abrahamssöhne im Jubiläenbuch,” in Religions-

geschichte des Neuen Testaments: Festschrift für Klaus Berger zum . Geburtstag (ed. A.
von Dobbeler et al.; Tübingen ), –, esp. .
 land and covenant in jubilees  

for Hagar to depart. The family of Abram lives in great harmony, not only
Abram and Sarai, but also his whole household.
However at the same time, one could say that by omitting this passage
everything that raises the status of Hagar is also left out. I refer to her
direct communication with the angel about her son (as a sort of birth
report, which is reserved, elsewhere in Genesis, only for the patriarchs,
not for women, let alone a slave-woman).37 Moreover, in Gen :,
Hagar seems to suggest that she has seen God: “So she called the name
of Yhwh who spoke to her: ‘You are a God of seeing’; for she said: ‘Have
I really seen God and remained alive after seeing him?’ ” She would have
been the only woman in Genesis and Exodus who has encountered God,
and this is probably too much honour for a slave-woman.
In summary, it can be said that Jubilees alters the first of the Hagar sto-
ries mainly through omissions, for it does not report the tension between
Hagar and Sarai. Therefore, it is not necessary to speak about Hagar’s
flight into the wilderness and her subsequent return. This, consequently,
changes the picture of both Sara and Hagar in Jubilees heavily. Sara is
depicted more positively, whereas Hagar’s status is neither raisen nor low-
ered. Moreover the birth of Ishmael is closely connected to the conclud-
ing of the covenant and its promises of progeny and land. So, the meaning
of covenant is also transformed.

. Concluding Remarks about the Meaning

and Significance of the Covenant in Jubilees 

According to the Jubilees, there is only one single covenant. The Noahic
union (Jubilees ) is the first conclusion. It is the base for all subsequent
ones. The author of Jubilees presents the covenant of Moses as a continu-
ation of that of Noah, but at the same time he extrapolates elements from
the Sinaitic covenant to that of Noah.38 Also the bonds with the patriarchs
are seen as a renewal of the covenant of Noah. In the chapter under review
(Jubilees ), this is stated explicitly (:), whereas it is also implied
in the dating of the covenant during the Festival of Weeks (:a, a,
a).39 The transformation of the ambiguous reference to an offering in

37 Cf. Halpern-Amaru, The Empowerment of Women, .

38 On the identification of Noah and Moses, see Van Ruiten, “The Covenant of Noah,”
–.
39 The renewal of the covenant by Abraham is announced already in Jub. :.
 jacques t.a.g.m. van ruiten

Gen :– into an explicit offering including the sprinkling of blood

(Jub. :–, ) stresses the similarity of Abram’s covenant with that
of Noah (cf. Jub. :–, ). Also the second conclusion between God
and Abraham (Jubilees ) shows these elements: a dating of the covenant
and a mentioning of the festival (:) as well as an offering (:). This
results in a comparable structure of Jubilees  and . This similarity is
strengthened by the fact that in the description of the land (Jub. :) the
author integrates Gen :– (the land identified by name; the eternal
possession of it; the personal relationship between God and Abram and
his progeny) in his use of Gen :. However, the resemblance between
Jubilees  and  draws attention to still another element.
In Jubilees , Abram demands for descendants, which is followed by
the promise of descendants (:–), and the promise of land (:).
The integrated story of Ishmael’s birth (:–) is presented as a first
answer to Abram’s question in the beginning of the chapter. After the
promise of descendants (:, ) and land (:), in Jubilees  the
announcement of Isaac’s birth is made (:–).40 The parallel struc-
ture seems to point to the fact that Ishmael is of equal status of Isaac,
but this is refuted more powerfully in Jubilees than in Genesis. Jubilees
 stresses more than Genesis  the superiority of Isaac. It is not only
said that God will conclude a covenant with Isaac alone (Jub. :–;
cf. Gen :–), but also the multiple mention of Ishmael with regard
to the circumcision of Abraham and his house (Jub. :–; cf. Gen
:–) is pushed into the background. Moreover, in the halakhic addi-
tion, it is explicitly mentioned that God has not chosen Ishmael (Jub.
:: “For the Lord did not draw near to himself either Ishmael, his
sons, his brothers, or Esau. He did not choose them (simply) because they
were among Abraham’s children, for he knew them. But he chose Israel
to be his people”). Therefore, the rewriting and interpretation of Genesis
 and  by the author of Jubilees make clear how God’s covenant with
Abraham and the promises of land and progeny are fulfilled in the birth
of Isaac.

40 The commandment of circumcision (Jub. :–) has no parallel in Jubilees .

 NEW JERUSALEM AT
QUMRAN AND IN THE NEW TESTAMENT

Florentino García Martínez*

Among the Aramaic texts preserved at Qumran, the so-called “Descrip-

tion of the New Jerusalem,” is attested to in fragmentary form in sev-
eral copies found in caves  (Q),  (Q),  (Q, a, ), 
(Q) and  (Q).1 In an article on this new Jerusalem text in the
Encyclopedia of the Dead Sea Scrolls that I wrote a few years ago I stated
that: “The description of the city and the temple in the New Jerusalem
is located midway between Ezekiel’s description of the future Jerusalem
and the Heavenly Jerusalem of the New Testament Book of Revelation –
.”2 The expression “located midway” is rather ambiguous and as such
unimpeachable, but it is not very precise and can be interpreted in many
different ways. The expression is true if it is understood chronologically
(taking Ezekiel and Revelation as two temporal poles, New Jerusalem is
somewhere in between, even if its precise date is not known); it is also
true if it is understood spatially (the size of the city described in New
Jerusalem is somewhere in between the city described in Ezekiel –
and the gigantic Jerusalem of the book of Revelation); and it is even true
when understood as referring to the recourse to the measuring angel,

* It is a pleasure to offer this small contribution to my colleague and friend of many

years, Ed Noort. This text was written on the occasion of his th birthday, and has been
rewritten and adapted on the occasion of his th.
1 Q was published by J.T. Milik in DJD :–, pl. XXXI; Q by M. Baillet

in DJD :–, pl. XVI; Q by J.T. Milik in DJD: –, pls. XL–XLI and Q
by F. García Martínez et al. in DJD :–, pls. XXXV–XL, LIII. Q, Qa and
Q have not yet appeared in the final DJD edition. A preliminary edition is found
in F. García Martínez and E.J.C. Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition (Leiden
), :– (in what follows = DSSSE), in K. Bayer, Die aramäischen Texte vom
Toten Meer (Göttingen ), :–, and in D.W. Parry and E. Tov, eds., The Dead
Sea Scrolls Reader. Part : Additional Genres and Unclassified Texts (Leiden ), –
 (edited and translated by E. Cook). They are also transcribed and translated in the
monograph by L. DiTommasso, The Dead Sea New Jerusalem Text: Contents and Contexts
(TSAJ ; Tübingen ), –.
2 F. García Martínez, “New Jerusalem,” in Encyclopedia of the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed.

L.H. Schiffman and J.C. VanderKam; New York ), :.

 florentino garcía martínez

with its rod used to describe the dimensions of the city and its parts.
However, the phrase I used in this article could also be misleading if it is
understood as indicating a continuum, starting with Ezekiel – and
ending with Revelation –, of which the New Jerusalem from Qumran
would be somewhere in the middle, bridging in this way the distance
between the other two biblical texts. I do not think this is the case.
In the first article I wrote on the New Jerusalem text more than twenty
years ago,3 I had already clearly indicated the different conceptual frame-
work which informs the description we find in Revelation – of “the
new Jerusalem, the holy city, coming down out of heaven from God,
beautiful as a bride prepared to meet her husband,” the Jerusalem in
which there is no temple, because God and the Lamb is the temple, and
where there is no sun or moon, because the Lamb is the lamp which illu-
minate it with the glory of God. As well, the city described in the Aramaic
New Jerusalem text from Qumran, is a city which has no name—at least
in the preserved parts, as in Ezekiel, where the city is no longer called
Jerusalem but “The Lord Is There”—, a city which is not heavenly but
which represents a blueprint of the celestial model that will be restored
in the messianic age.4
The unnamed city of the Qumran text, in my opinion at that time,
was of a different sort to the new Jerusalem in the New Testament. I did
not believe that a genetic relationship could be established between the
New Jerusalem composition from Qumran and Revelation, nor that New
Jerusalem could be used as background for the New Testament use of the
metaphor of the heavenly Jerusalem of the New Testament.5 However,
at that time, I was not able to place this conclusion within a larger
hermeneutic framework that could account both for the similarities and
for the differences between these two texts.
Now, twenty-two years later, I still believe that this is a correct assess-
ment of the material recovered, but I think that I can now proceed fur-
ther. The fact is that, after almost all the recovered manuscripts from the

3 To be precise it was , in an article in Spanish in memory of Díez Macho,

entitled “La ‘Nueva Jerusalén’ y el templo futuro en los Mss. de Qumrán,” in Salvación
en la Palabra: Targum. Derash. Berit. En memoria del professor Alejandro Díez Macho
(ed. D. Muñoz León; Madrid ), –, later translated into English and published
as “The ‘New Jerusalem’ and the Future Temple of the Manuscripts from Qumran” in
Qumran and Apocalyptic: Studies on the Aramaic Texts from Qumran (STDJ ; Leiden
), –. All the quotations are from this English translation.
4 García Martínez, “The ‘New Jerusalem,’ ” .
5 García Martínez, “The ‘New Jerusalem,’ ” .
 new jerusalem at qumran and in the new testament 

different caves from Qumran have been published,6 I can now place the
conclusions drawn twenty years ago within a more general interpretative
framework than was then possible. Now, after all the evidence has been
published, we know that only a small part of the texts found at Qumran
were written by the people living there, and that the great majority of the
texts recovered have no elements which would allow us to consider them
“Qumranic,” “Essene,” or something else entirely.7 They are instead, Jew-
ish religious writings, which for the first time have given us access to the
developments occurring within Judaism before the birth of Christianity.
Since the Dead Sea Scrolls explicitly present themselves as being based
on the Hebrew Bible but are clearly different from it in a great many
theological and legal respects, it is logical to consider these differences
as witnesses to the evolution of the theological ideas and the legal norms
reflected in the Hebrew Bible. This evolution took place within Judaism
during a period of at least two centuries which elapsed between the
writing of the latest book of the Hebrew Bible and the depositing of the
manuscripts in the caves around Qumran.
Since the New Testament also presents itself as based on the Old Testa-
ment but is clearly different in many theological and legal respects from
it, it is also logical to consider these differences as witness to the evolution
and changes which took place in Judaism during the same period.
Since there is no proof of any direct relationship among the two
corpora of writings (those from Qumran and the writings which form
the New Testament), a genetic relationship among both corpora is not
the most logical explanation of the similarities or of the differences that
can be found among them. Therefore, I consider the relationship between
these two corpora in terms of different phases of evolution that began
from a commonly shared ground, the so-called “Hebrew Bible” or “Old
Testament.”8

6 The publication of manuscripts from Cave  in the DJD Series, which will be edited
by E. Puech, is expected in . See now, DJD :–, pls. v–vii.
7 See an analysis of the evidence in F. García Martínez, “Qumrân,  ans après la

découverte,” The Qumran Chronicle  () –.

8 This is the core of the project I have been working on in Louvain, which I pre-

sented in summary form in “De Dode-Zeerollen en het Nieuwe Testament,” in F. García

Martínez and E. Tigchelaar, eds., Fragmenten uit de woestijn: De Dode-Zeerollen opnieuw
bekeken (Zoetermeer ), – and in “Emerging Christianity and Second Tem-
ple Judaism: A ‘Qumranic Perspective,’ ” RCatT  () –. The ideas will be
developed in more detail in the book of the Proceedings of the Expert Meeting held in
Louvain on December  on “Qumran and the New Testament,” forthcoming in the
STDJ Series.
 florentino garcía martínez

These developments (previously unknown to us) were numerous in-

deed, and the phases of growth out of the biblical texts complex and varie-
gated. I hope that a quick and cursory look at the function of Jerusalem in
the different eschatological scenarios represented both in the scrolls and
in the New Testament will prove that this new hermeneutic framework
is well-founded. In this presentation I will thus first look at the biblical
starting point. I will then indicate the function (or the absence of func-
tion) of Jerusalem in New Testament eschatology, and will end with a
summary of the function (or absence of function) of Jerusalem in Qum-
ran eschatology. My conclusion will be that in pre-Christian Judaism as
revealed by the Scrolls, the development of theological ideas that can be
found in the New Testament had already taken place.

. Ezekiel –

Let us first look quickly at the basic text: the so-called Torah of Eze-
kiel: Ezekiel –. Without going into technicalities, I think everybody
agrees that what Ezekiel saw in the vision of the temple, the city and
the land, is the blueprint, the plan, the heavenly model, which was to be
realized at the moment of the restoration, when the glory of God returns
to the temple He had previously abandoned.9 The biblical text is rather
explicit. In Ezek :– we read:
Now, you, O mortal, describe the Temple to the House of Israel, and let
them measure its design. But let them be ashamed of their iniquities: When
they are ashamed of what they have done, make known to them the plan
of the Temple and its layout, its exits and entrances—its entire plan, and
all the laws and instructions pertaining to the entire plan. Write it before
their eyes, that they may faithfully follow its entire plan and all its laws.10
It is obvious that what Ezekiel is describing in these chapters is not a
heavenly temple, a heavenly Jerusalem, and a heavenly land, but the
heavenly layout of the new reality as it was to be established after the
exile, much in the same way that in Exod : it is told: “Exactly as
I show you—the pattern of the tabernacle and the pattern of all its

9 See the classical commentaries of W. Zimmerli, Ezekiel (BKAT .; Neukirchen-

Vluyn ); M. Greenberg, Ezekiel (AB A; New York ), or L.C. Allen, Ezekiel
– (WBC ; Dallas ). Even greater detail is to be found in the earlier work by
H. Gese, Der Verfassungsentwurf des Ezekiel (Kap. –) traditionsgeschichtlich unter-
sucht (Beiträge zur historischen Theologie ; Tübingen ).
10 Translation from the JPS.
 new jerusalem at qumran and in the new testament 

furnishings—so shall you make it,” (also in Exod :; :; :; or in
Num :: “according to the pattern that the Lord had shown to Moses,
so was the lampstand made”). This plan, pattern, model, blueprint, or
whatever other translation we may give to the term tabnı̄t used by the
Prophet, concerns the instructions for rebuilding the temple to which
the glory of God will return (Ezek :–:), the instructions for
building the associated structures and activities of the temple complex
(Ezek :–:), and the guidelines for the settlement of the people


around the temple, the setting apart of the tĕrumāh or sacred reserve
where the temple should be, and the city, with its measures and its
ports (Ezek :–:). It is equally obvious that the details and the
terminology of this description of the temple, the city and the land are
different from the biblical descriptions of the wilderness tabernacle, from
the descriptions of Solomon’s temple, and from the Second Temple. The
differences are so noticeable that according to rabbinic tradition rabbi
Hannaniah used three hundred barrels of oil during the nights he spent
trying to resolve the contradictions of the book with the Torah in order
to make the inclusion of the book within the Jewish canon possible.11 It
is completely obvious that the vision of Ezekiel, at least in the Hebrew
text, has no eschatological overtones at all.12 It is exclusively concerned
with the restoration after the exile and its horizon is completely earthly
and terrestrial. The land is the land of Israel, the city called “The Lord is
there” is the city of the temple, that is, the reconstructed Jerusalem, and
the temple is the earthly temple on which the Zadokite priests will offer
their sacrifices.

. The New Jerusalem of Revelation

If we now look at the new Jerusalem of Revelation, the transformation of

the vision of Ezekiel is evident. The author of Revelation has taken from
the vision of Ezekiel the measuring angel whose rod serves to precisely

11 b. Sanh. b; b. Hag. a.

.
12 In the older Hebrew text of Ezekiel that lies behind the Greek translation preserved
on Papyrus  this could have been the case according to J. Lust, “Ezekiel – in the
Oldest Greek Manuscript,” CBQ  () –, and this is certainly the case for the
so-called Pseudo-Ezekiel texts found at Qumran, see F. García Martínez, “The Apocalyptic
Interpretation of Ezekiel in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Interpreting Translation: Studies on
the lxx and Ezekiel in Honour of Johan Lust (ed. F. García Martínez and M. Vervenne;
BETL ; Louvain ), –.
 florentino garcía martínez

determine the dimensions of the city, the square form of the city, its wall,
and its twelve gates with the names of the twelve tribes of Israel. However,
the author of Revelation has also borrowed from Isa :–:
For behold! I am creating a new heaven and a new earth, the former things
shall not be remembered, they shall never come to mind. Be glad then and
rejoice forever in what I am creating. For I shall create Jerusalem as a joy
and her people as a delight.

He has also used the Christian interpretation of this new creation, where
it is transferred completely to the eschaton, in order that the new Jerusa-
lem would appear after the end, after the destruction of the world.
Within the New Testament, as is known, there are several differ-
ent eschatological scenarios, with different approaches to the nature of
Jerusalem and the temple. Jesus, for example, in the words of E.P. Sanders:
. . . was an eschatological prophet, a prophet who expected God himself
to interrupt human history and create a new and better world, one in
which Israel was redeemed and restored, and in which gentiles, too, would
come to worship the God of Israel . . . Jesus held fairly conventional views
about Jerusalem and the Temple: he thought that they were central. He
was, however, an eschatological prophet, and he expected that the Temple
would be replaced in the coming kingdom of God.13

Paul’s thought is more complex. In the same letter to the Galatians where
we heard about Paul’s visits to Jerusalem and about his collection of
money for the church of Jerusalem, we also find (in Gal :–) the
reference to “the present Jerusalem” and “the Jerusalem from above” in
the allegory based on the story of Sarah and Hagar: “Now Hagar is Mount
Sinai in Arabia; she corresponds to the present Jerusalem, for she is in
slavery with her children. But the Jerusalem above is free, and she is our
mother,” which seems to exclude any relevant function for the city in
this eschatological thought.14 In Romans, Paul reasserts the traditional
Jewish view of Jerusalem as the place where the tribes of Israel will
gather and where the gentiles will come bearing gifts and worshipping the

13 E.P. Sanders, “Jerusalem and Its Temple in Early Christian Thought and Practice,” in

Jerusalem: Its Sanctity and Centrality to Judaism, Christianity, and Islam (ed. L.I. Levine,
New York ), – at . Remember the temple “not made by human hands” in
Mark :.
14 The literature on the allegory of Hagar and Sarah is abundant. See the biblio-

graphical references in G.H. van Kooten, “Hagar and Sarah as Antitypes of the Earthly
and Heavenly City in Paul’s Galatians,” and A. Hogeterp, “Hagar and Paul’s Covenant
Thought,” in The Reception History of the Story of Hagar (ed. G.H. van Kooten and
J.T.A.G.M van Ruiten; Themes in Biblical Narrative ; Leiden; forthcoming).
 new jerusalem at qumran and in the new testament 

God of Israel, using the biblical prophecies which will be fulfilled when
the Redeemer comes from Zion, as he says in Rom : (quoting Isa
:).15 This eschatological pilgrimage of Jews and Gentiles to Jerusalem
is totally absent from Luke’s work, which has Jerusalem as its centre—but
only the historical Jerusalem, the place where Jesus died and from which
Christianity expanded. Thus, an eschatological Jerusalem plays no role
in the Christian hope for the future of Acts or of Luke.
In the eschatological scenario of Revelation – there is no place at
all for an earthly Jerusalem.16 The new Jerusalem, the holy city coming
out of heaven, is the bride of God, to which only the community of the
faithful, of those whose names are inscribed in the book of the living kept
by the Lamb had access. In fact, this new Jerusalem is a metaphor for the
community of the elected, a symbolic expression of a life close to God
who will be eternally present in it. This new Jerusalem, of course, has no
temple and it has no other connection with the earthly Jerusalem than
its name. It is a new reality, created “when the thousand years were over,”
after Satan’s release and his final destruction, and after the opening of the
book of the living and the judgement of all humans according to their
deeds. The new Jerusalem metaphor of Revelation – represents such
a deep transformation of its starting point (Ezekiel – and Isaiah )
that it is difficult to understand how this can be considered a development
of the basic Old Testament texts. We will now turn to the Dead Sea Scrolls
to see if they help us to understand this development.

. Jerusalem in the Dead Sea Scrolls

The presentation of the Qumran data has been greatly facilitated by

an article by Schiffman which collected and duly classified most of the
references to Jerusalem in the Scrolls.17 However, his classification did
not take into account the character of the manuscripts. It is thus better
to start with a more basic division: Jerusalem in the non-sectarian and in
the sectarian documents.

15 See E.P. Sanders, Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People (Philadelphia ), –.
16 See L. Pilchan, The New Jerusalem in the Book of Revelation: A Study of Revelation
– in the Light of Its Background in Jewish Tradition (WUNT .; Tübingen )
and the bibliography quoted there.
17 L.H. Schiffman, “Jerusalem in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Centrality of Jerusalem:

Historical Perspectives (ed. M. Poorthuis and C. Safrai; Kampen ), –.

 florentino garcía martínez

In the first category (non-sectarian documents) we find a simple lin-

ear continuation of the different literary compositions which deal with
Jerusalem in the Hebrew Bible and which reflect the same concerns. We
find laments over the destruction of Jerusalem as in Q (QLamenta-
tion),18 which prolong the lament over the destruction of Jerusalem from
the biblical Lamentations:
How solitary lies the large city Jerusalem, once full of people; the princess
of all the nations has become desolate like an abandoned woman; all
her daughters have been abandoned, like a woman without sons, like a
distressed and abandoned woman. All her places and her squares are like
a barren woman, and all her paths like an imprisoned woman, and her . . .
like a bitter woman. (Q frg.  –)19
We also find a prolongation of the prophetic words of consolation after
the destruction of Jerusalem in Q (QTanhumim),20 which links
quotations from Isaiah – to reassure the downtrodden people, and
announces that the reconstruction of Jerusalem is at hand and that Zion
will be restored to its former glory.21 We also find a whole series of
hymns to Zion that prolong the biblical poetry about or addressed to
Jerusalem (from the Psalms, or Isaiah, to Tobit and Ben Sira), such
as the Apocryphal Psalm Q,22 or that contained in column IV of
Q,23 or the beautiful Apostrophe to Zion contained in column XXII
of QPsalma,24 which begins: “I remember you, Zion, for blessing; with
all my strength I have loved you. May your memory be blessed for ever!
Great is your hope, O Zion; peace will come and the expectation of your
salvation.”25
18 Published by J.M. Allegro in Qumran Cave  (Q–Q) (DJD V; Oxford ),
–, pl. XXVI. See A. Berlin, “Qumran Laments and the Study of Lament Literature,”
in Liturgical Perspectives (ed. E.G. Chazon et al.; STDJ ; Leiden ), –.
19 Translation of DSSSE :.
20 Also published by J.M. Allegro in DJD :–, pls. XXII–XXIII.
21 See C.D. Stanley, “The Importance of QTanhumim (Q),” RevQ  /  ()

–.
22 Published by E. Schuller in E. Eshel et al., eds., Qumran Cave . VI: Poetical and

Liturgical Texts. Part  (DJD XI; Oxford ), –, pl. VIII.
23 Published by M. Baillet, Qumran Grotte . III (Q–Q) (DJD VII; Oxford:

Clarendon, ), –, pls. XLIX–LIII. This column corresponds to col. XV of the
arrangement of the manuscript proposed by Puech in the review by Baillet in RB 
() –, and generally adopted by other researchers. See D. Falk, Daily, Sabbath,
and Festival Prayers in the Dead Sea Scrolls (STDJ ; Leiden ), –.
24 Published by J.A. Sanders, The Psalms Scroll of Qumran Cave  (DJD IV; Oxford

). Fragmentary remains of two other copies of the composition are found in Q,
cols. VII–VIII and Q frg. .
25 DSSSE, :.
 new jerusalem at qumran and in the new testament 

In the sectarian compositions, the image of Jerusalem is quite differ-

ent. We have indeed a couple of texts which deal with Jerusalem from
the perspective of the religious law (in Schiffman’s classification), such as
QMMT26 (which mentions Jerusalem)27 and the Temple Scroll28 (where
the name does not appear),29 two texts which in my opinion belong to the
formative period of the Qumran community. However, the most numer-
ous references (found in the pesharim)30 refer to the historical Jerusalem
of the time of the authors, and this Jerusalem is thoroughly portrayed as
ungodly. This Jerusalem is the seat of the illegitimate priesthood and of
the wicked priests,31 it is the residence of “the scoffers”32 and of the “seek-
ers of smooth things,”33 it is the dwelling place of the gentiles, of “the lion
of wrath”34 and of the hated Hasmoneans who, as it is said in QTesti-
monia –, “they will shed blood like water upon the ramparts of the
daughter of Zion and in the precincts of Jerusalem.”35 In short, Jerusalem
is in the writings of the Qumran community, as the Pesher Habakkuk
XII – put it when interpreting Hab :: “the city is Jerusalem in which
the Wicked Priest performed repulsive acts and defiled the Sanctuary of
God.”36
No wonder that the community finally decided to separate itself from
Jerusalem and from the temple in order to build in the desert “a holy
house for Israel and the foundation of the holy of holiest for Aaron”
(QS VIII ) or “a holy house for Aaron, in order to form a most holy

26 Published by E. Qimron and J. Strugnell, Qumran Cave . V: Miqsat ma##se ha-Torah

(DJD X; Oxford ).
27 And identifies it with the camp of holiness, MMT B – of the composite text.
28 Published by Y. Yadin, Megillat ham-miqdash: The Temple Scroll (Jerusalem ).
29 Neither in the copy edited by Yadin, (Q), nor in the copy Q, published on

DJD XXIII, –, pls. XLI–XLVII, or in the small fragments from Q, published
in DJD XXIV, –, pls. VII–VIII.
30 Conveniently collected in volume B of The Princeton Theological Seminary Dead

Sea Scrolls Project, J.H. Charlesworth, ed., The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew Aramaic, and
Greek Texts with English Translation. Volume B: Pesharim, Other Commentaries, and
Related Documents (Tübingen ), and in D.W. Parry and E. Tov, eds., Exegetical Texts
(The Dead Sea Scrolls Reader ; Leiden ).
31 According to the “Groningen Hypothesis,” see A.S. van der Woude, “Wicked Priest

or Wicked Priests: Reflections on the Identification of the Wicked Priest in the Habakkuk
Commentary,” JJS  () –.
32 Q II – and .
33 Q frg.  II –; Q frg. – I .
34 Q frg. – I .
35 DSSSE, :.
36 DSSSE, :.
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community, and a house of the Community for Israel, those who walk
in perfection” (QS IX ), in the words of the Serek ha Yahad. . The
community clearly understood itself as a functional replacement of the
temple, the residence of the divine presence, where atonement for the
land was made, where sacrifices were replaced by prayer (“the offer of the
lips”), and the freewill by offers of perfect behaviour.37 The community
of Qumran understood itself as a spiritual temple replacing the polluted
temple, but it also understood itself as a new Jerusalem, replacing the
polluted Jerusalem, since the Serek also applies the words of Isa :
to the community: “This (the community) is the tested rampart, the
precious cornerstone that does not/whose foundations do not/shake or
tremble from their place” (QS VIII –). Nothing indicates, in this
or related documents, that this substitution was thought a temporary
solution, in the expectation of a return to Jerusalem and to the temple.
In the Rule of the Congregation of Israel in the last days (QSa) (as well
as in the Rule of Benedictions [QSb]) the regulations of purity for the
temple are applied to the community (whatever it is), and when God
begets the Messiah among them, the “liturgical” celebrations are not in
the temple, but in their gathering for community meals, where the wine
and the bread are blessed (QSa II –). In the expectations concerning
the end of time in this and related documents there is no place for the
historical Jerusalem, just as it does not figure in the expectation of the
heavenly Jerusalem of Revelation.
However, we do have other texts from Qumran where Jerusalem and
the temple play an important role in their eschatological programme. In
Q (QCatena A)38 we can read in a fragmentary but clear eschato-
logical context:
the just man will flee and God’s great hand will be with them to rescue
them from all the spirits of Belial . . . those who fear God will sanctify his

37 See the classic treatments of the topic by B. Gärtner, The Temple and the Community

in Qumran and in the New Testament (SNTSMS ; Cambridge ) and by G. Klinzing,
Die Umdeutung des Kultus in der Qumrangemeinde und im Neuen Testament (SUNT ;
Göttingen ), and the more recent treatments by F. Schmidt, La Pensée du Temple:
De Jérusalem à Qoumrân (La librairie du XXe Siècle; Paris ) and by A. Hogeterp,
Paul and God’s Temple: A Historical Interpretation of Cultic Imagery in the Corinthian
Correspondence (Biblical Tools and Studies ; Louvain ).
38 Published by J.M. Allegro in DJD :–, pls. XXIV–XXV, and now considered as

part of an Eschatological Midrash together with Q (QFlorilegium), see A. Steudel,

Der Midrasch zur Eschatologie aus der Qumrangemeinde (QMidrEschat a,b) (STDJ ;
Leiden ).
 new jerusalem at qumran and in the new testament 

name and enter Zion with joy, and Jerusalem . . . Belial and all the men of
his lot will be finished for ever and all the sons of light will be reunited.
(Q IV –)39
In this context we could also analyse the three temples of QFlorilegium,40
a text which proves that at the end of times, bě"ahărit
. hayāmı̄m, God
himself will create the new temple. We might also consider the single
reference in column XXIX of the Temple Scroll that proves that the temple
described in the Scroll is what I call “the normative temple,” and that
“on the day of creation/of the blessing”41 God himself will create a new
temple. However, I would prefer to present briefly the text which led me
(in the article referred to at the beginning) to identify the city and the
temple described in New Jerusalem as the eschatological city and temple
which God will establish at the end of days, the Scroll of the War or
QMilhama. 42
.
In this composition, which describes the eschatological battle between
the sons of light and the armies of darkness, the battle starts “when the
exiled sons of light return from the desert of the nations to camp in the
desert of Jerusalem” (QM I ). There we find (twice! in col. XII and in
col. XIX) a battle hymn of victory which shows that Jerusalem played an
important role in eschatological expectations:
Get up, Hero, take your prisoners, Man of Glory, collect your spoil, Per-
former of Valiance! Place your hand on the neck of your enemies and your
foot on the piles of slain! Strike the peoples, your foes, and may your sword
consume guilty flesh! Fill your land with glory and your inheritance with
blessing: may herds of flocks be in your fields, silver, gold, and precious
stones in your palaces! Rejoice, Zion, passionately! Shine with jubilation,
Jerusalem! Exult, all the cities of Judah! Open your gates continuously so
that the wealth of nations can be brought to you! Their kings shall wait
on you, all your oppressors lie prone before you, the dust of your feet
they shall lick. Daughters of my nation, shout with jubilant voice! Adorn

39 DSSSE :.
40 Published by J.M. Allegro in DJD V,–, pls. XIX–XX. The text has been studied
a great deal, but the book by G.J. Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran: QFlorilegium in Its Jewish
Context (JSOTS ; Sheffield ) remains fundamental.
41 The reading is disputed, Yadin reads yom ha-berakhah while Qimron prefers to

read yom ha-beri"a, see E. Qimron, The Temple Scroll: A Critical Edition with Extensive
Reconstructions (Judean Desert Studies; Beer Sheva ).
42 Published by E.L. Sukenik, The Dead Sea Scrolls of the Hebrew University (Jerusalem

), –, pls. –, . For a recent presentation of the different manuscripts and a
good bibliography, see J. Duhaime, The War Texts (Companion to the Qumran Scrolls ;
London ).
 florentino garcía martínez

yourselves with splendid finery! Rule over the kingdoms . . . and Israel to
reign for ever. (QM XII –)43
It is clear that this victory hymn places “the dream of the prophets
which was sought for you” of the Hymn to Zion we quoted earlier, in the
eschatological context of the final battle; and that Jerusalem and Zion are
very much alive in this eschatological programme. However, what is even
more important is that Jerusalem is the starting point of this phase of the
battle: “And no young boy or any woman at all shall enter the camps when
they leave Jerusalem to go to war, until they return” is said in QM VII
, and in III – we also read: “And on the trumpets of the path of
return from the battle with the enemy, to go back to the congregation of
Jerusalem, they shall write ‘Exultations of God in a peaceful return.’ ” In
this Jerusalem the sons of light fully participate in the temple cult:
They shall arrange the chiefs of the priests behind the High Priest and of
his second, twelve chiefs to serve in perpetuity before God . . . The chiefs
of the tribes, and after them the fathers of the congregation, shall take
their positions in the gates of the sanctuary in perpetuity. And the chiefs
of the divisions with their enlisted shall take their positions in their feast,
their new moons, the sabbaths and all the days of the year—those of fifty
years and upwards. These shall take their positions at the holocaust and the
sacrifices, in order to prepare the pleasant incense for God’s approval, to
atone for all his congregation and to satisfy themselves in perpetuity before
him at the table of glory. (QM II –)44
The sons of light, after having camped in the desert around Jerusalem
at the beginning of the final battle, are installed in Jerusalem, partici-
pate in the cult of the temple, and from there conduct the war until the
final victory. The retreat to the desert of the nations, was thus tempo-
rary, as was the abandonment of the temple—only until the time they
could reintroduce the cult in accordance with their own particular con-
ception.
This seems to be the logical perspective from which to read the de-
scription of the city and of the temple of the New Jerusalem text. It is a
revelation of the model of the temple and the city that God will build
at the end of times. This interpretation is confirmed by the fragmentary
reference we find in a copy from Cave  (in Q frg.  III ) to
the final war against Kittim, Edom, Moab, Ammon, and Babel.45 The

43 DSSSE, :.
44 DSSSE, :.
45 For this text, see the preliminary edition of DSSSE, :–, the transcription

by DiTomasso, The Dead Sea New Jerusalem Text, –, and now DJD :–.
 new jerusalem at qumran and in the new testament 

Old Testament model (the Torah of Ezekiel –) has been thoroughly
eschatologized and developed into the New Jerusalem along the same
lines that we find in other apocalyptic writings (such as  Enoch and
Jubilees). The plans for the city and the temple of the New Jerusalem text
represent a city of gigantic dimensions, covered with precious stones, a
city that will be built by God at the end of days: not a heavenly Jerusalem,
but the very earthly city and the very earthly temple described in the War
Scroll, and destined to endure forever.

. Conclusions

After this brief panorama, I think we can conclude that the conceptual
framework for the function of Jerusalem in the War Scroll and in the
New Jerusalem text is closer to the function that Jerusalem plays in the
eschatological thought of Jesus and Paul than to the heavenly Jerusalem
of Revelation –, where there is no temple and which is a metaphor
for the eternal life of the community of saints and God. However, we
can also conclude that an eschatological model in which the earthly
Jerusalem plays no role, as is the case of Revelation –, was already
developed in pre-Christian Judaism within a Jewish community that
lived in the desert, a community that believed itself to be a substitute
for the Jerusalem temple, that God and the angels were in its midst, and
that its liturgy could associate the community with the angelic liturgy of
the heavenly temple. It did not need Jerusalem, either in the present, or
in the eschatological scenario.
 THE DESECRATION OF “THE MOST HOLY
TEMPLE OF ALL THE WORLD” IN THE “HOLY LAND”:
EARLY JEWISH AND EARLY CHRISTIAN RECOLLECTIONS
OF ANTIOCHUS’ “ABOMINATION OF DESOLATION”

George H. van Kooten

. Introduction

The interest in the concept of land in the Jewish Scriptures is an important

feature of Ed Noort’s research, and was the topic of his inaugural lecture
at the University of Groningen in .1 Moreover, not only the notion,
but also the archaeology of the land of Israel is a dominant issue in
his scholarly work. Various passages in the Jewish Scriptures state, both
implicitly and explicitly, that the land of Israel is holy.2 According to one
particular perspective, the land is holy, with at its heart “the most holy
temple of all the world” ( Macc :; :: τ π#σης τIς γIς bγιτατον
'ερν). In this paper I shall relate how this holy place was pillaged by
the Hellenistic-Seleucid ruler Antiochus IV Epiphanes ( Macc :–
) and polluted at his command. It was then turned into a temple

1 E. Noort, “Land in zicht . . . ? Geloofsvisie, werkelijkheid en geschiedenis in het

oudtestamentische spreken over het land. Enkele opmerkingen n.a.v. Jozua :–,”
in Tussen openbaring en ervaring: Studies aangeboden aan G.P. Hartvelt, (ed. J.N. Bakker
et al.; Kampen ), –; idem, Een plek om te zijn: Over de theologie van het
land aan de hand van Jozua :–. Inaugurele oratie bij de aanvaarding van het ambt
van hoogleraar aan de Rijksuniversiteit Groningen .., Kampen ; idem, “ ‘Land’
in the Deuteronomistic Tradition—Genesis : The Historical and Theological Neces-
sity of a Diachronic Approach,” in Synchronic or Diachronic? A Debate on Method in
Old Testament Exegesis: Papers Read at the Ninth Joint Meeting of “Het Oudtestamen-
tisch Werkgezelschap in Nederland en België” and “The Society For Old Testament Study,”
Held at Kampen,  (ed. J.C. de Moor; OTS ; Leiden ), –; idem, “Land
and Reconciliation: Land Claims and Loss of Land,” Nederduits-Gereformeerd Teolo-
giese Tydskrif  () –; idem, “ ‘Denn das Land gehört mir, ihr seid Fremde
und Beisassen bei mir’ (Lev , ): Landgabe als eine kritische Theologie des Landes,”
in Jahrbuch für Biblische Theologie : “Heiliges Land” (Neukirchen-Vluyn, forthcom-
ing).
2 D.P. Wright, “Holiness (OT),” ABD :– (at ); W. Janzen, “Land,” ABD

:– (at ).

 george h. van kooten

of Olympian Zeus in  /  bc ( Macc :–). In Danielic terms,

this desecration of the Jerusalem temple is characterized as the setting
up of the “abomination of desolation(s)” (Dan :; :; :) and
constitutes the prime issue in Daniel –. This event, and the subsequent
rededication of the temple on  Chislev (December)  bc by Judas the
Maccabee, was vividly commemorated in the annual celebration of the
Hanukkah festival.3 I shall particularly address the question of whether,
and in what way Antiochus’ installation of the abomination of desolation
was remembered in early Jewish and early Christian literature. Given
that Jews were very well aware of these events, described as prophecy
in Daniel and as fulfilled history in the books of the Maccabees, it strikes
one as particularly odd that Christians, but to a certain extent even the
Jew Flavius Josephus, too, could so easily detach the Danielic notion of
the abomination of desolation from the figure of Antiochus, and reapply
it to Nero or the Flavians in the context of the destruction of the temple
in ad .
My focus in this paper, however, is those ancient Jews and early Chris-
tians who continued to relate the Danielic “abomination of desolation”
to the figure of Antiochus IV. After a brief discussion of this phrase in
Daniel, I shall first discuss its interpretation in  and  Maccabees and
Josephus’ Jewish Antiquities, and subsequently the way it is understood
in the early Christian writings of Hippolytus, Jerome, and Cassian. When
dealing with Jerome’s interpretation, we shall also encounter the views of
the third century ad pagan philosopher Porphyry.

. Abomination and Antiochus

.. Daniel
It has long been recognized that Daniel’s prediction about the instal-
ment of the abomination of desolation alludes to the profanation of
the Jerusalem temple in  /  bc by Antiochus IV Epiphanes (ca. –
 bc). Antiochus IV became king of the Seleucid empire in  bc, and
sought to incorporate Ptolemaic Egypt and Cyprus (– / ) into his
empire. This plan failed, however, when Rome intervened and ordered
Antiochus from Egypt. At this time, Antiochus also turned his attentions

3 J.C. VanderKam, “Dedication, Feast of,” ABD :–.

 “the most holy temple of all the world” 

to Jerusalem and overturned the charter which his father Antiochus III
had drawn up to guarantee the cult of Yahweh at the Jerusalem temple.
Antiochus IV tried to hellenize Judea, although—as A. Mehl points out—
“the extent to which he sought to hellenize the Jews and then his own
state must not be overestimated.”4 His attempts were met with ferocious
resistance by the Jews, as both the book of Daniel and the books of the
Maccabees testify.
Daniel’s statements about Antiochus IV are cloaked in the form of
prophecies which Daniel is said to have uttered in the sixth century
bc after the experience of the beginning of the Babylonian exile. When
Daniel perceives “in the books the number of years that, according to the
word of the Lord to the prophet Jeremiah, must be fulfilled for the devas-
tation of Jerusalem, namely, seventy years” (Dan :; Jer :–; :–
), Gabriel descends to him and enlightens his understanding (Dan
:–). The seventy years are to be understood as seventy times seven
years (:–). After the return from the Babylonian exile and, after
seven weeks, the subsequent restoration and rebuilding of Jerusalem,
there will be a large time-span of  weeks that Jerusalem will remain
restored (:). This situation alters, however, when the following takes
place in the last, seventieth week:
 After the sixty-two weeks, an anointed one shall be cut off and shall have
nothing, and the troops of the prince who is to come shall destroy the city
and the sanctuary. Its end shall come with a flood, and to the end there
shall be war. Desolations are decreed.
 He shall make a strong covenant with many for one week, and for half of the
week he shall make sacrifice and offering cease; and in their place (lxx: κα:
π: τ 'ερν, “and on the temple”) shall be an abomination that desolates
(lxx: βδλυγμα τDν ρημσεων, “the abomination of desolations”), until
the decreed end is poured out upon the desolator. (Dan :–)5
The desolator in question is recognized, both in Antiquity (as we shall
see when we deal with Porphyry) and in modern scholarly opinion, as
Antiochus IV Epiphanes.6

4 Cf. G.T. Griffith and S.M. Sherwin-White, “Antiochus () IV (Epiphanes),” Oxford

Classical Dictionary (d ed.; Oxford ); A. Mehl, “Antiochus [] IV. King of the
Seleucids (– bc),” in Brill’s New Pauly: Antiquity Volumes (ed. H. Cancik and
H. Schneider; ; Brill Online; Rijksuniversiteit Groningen,  October ).
5 Cf. also Daniel (Theod.) :. Translation of biblical writings after the NRSV, with

occasional alterations.
6 J.J. Collins, Daniel: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel (Hermeneia; Mineapolis,

Minn., ), –.

 george h. van kooten

The prophetic picture of Daniel  is fine-tuned in another revelation

in Daniel , describing Antiochus’ manoeuvre from Egypt back to
Jerusalem, under the pressure of Roman intervention:
 At the time appointed he shall return and come into the south, but this
time it shall not be as it was before.
 For ships of Kittim shall come against him, and he shall lose heart and
withdraw. He shall be enraged and take action against the holy covenant.
He shall turn back and pay heed to those who forsake the holy covenant.
 Forces sent by him shall occupy and profane the temple and fortress.
They shall abolish the regular burnt-offering and set up the abomination
that makes desolate (lxx: κα: ποστ7σουσι τν Bυσαν κα: δσουσι
βδλυγμα ρημσεως).
 He shall seduce with intrigue those who violate the covenant; but the
people who are loyal to their God shall stand firm and take action. (Dan
:–)

At the very end of the book of Daniel, in chapter , Daniel is ordered to
keep secret the words of his book, including the revelations concerning
the abomination of desolation, and to seal the book: “the words are to
remain secret and sealed until the time of the end” (:, ). The author,
writing about the present, in which the Jerusalem cult has been dese-
crated by Antiochus, distinguishes between two categories of Jews: those
who collaborate with Antiochus, and those who remain loyal to Yahweh
and are identical with, or are guided by “those who are wise” (Dan :).
The latter, who have apparently unsealed Daniel’s words, now read that
the time between Antiochus’ desecration of the Jerusalem cult and its
re-establishment will be , days, i.e. . years, or, alternatively, the
slightly longer period of , days:
 From the time that the regular burnt offering is taken away and the
abomination of desolation is set up (lxx: κα: JτοιμασBFI δοBIναι τ
βδλυγμα τIς ρημσεως), there shall be one thousand two hundred and
ninety days.
 Happy are those who persevere and attain the thousand three hundred and
thirty-five days. (Dan :–)7

In Daniel, the phrase “abomination of desolation” is used in a consistent

way and points, in all three instances, to the desecration of the Jerusalem
temple by Antiochus IV.

7 Cf. also Daniel (Theod.) :.

 “the most holy temple of all the world” 

..  and  Maccabees and Josephus

The first to recognize that Daniel’s reference to “the abomination of
desolation” should be applied to Antiochus’ desecration of the Jerusalem
temple is the author of  Maccabees. In the writing, which narrates the
revolt against Antiochus, the author mentions the Danielic abomination
of the temple at the beginning of his narrative about the desecration of
the temple, in the following words:
Now on the fifteenth day of Chislev, in the one hundred and forty-fifth year
[ bc], they erected an abomination of desolation on the altar of burnt
offering (
τει EhκοδGμησεν βδλυγμα ρημσεως π: τ Bυσιαστ7ριον).
( Macc :)
Whereas the wording of  Maccabees (written after  bc) remains close
to the terminology of Daniel,  Maccabees drops the Danielic terminol-
ogy and is far clearer about what actually happened. Having described
how Antiochus IV dared to enter the temple of Jerusalem, take the holy
vessels and carry off eighteen hundred talents from the temple ( Macc
:–, ), the author of  Maccabees (writing between  bc and
 bc) tells the following:
Not long after this, the king [i.e. Antiochus IV] sent an Athenian senator
to compel the Jews to forsake the laws of their ancestors and no longer to
live by the laws of God; also to pollute the temple in Jerusalem and to call
it the temple of Olympian Zeus. ( Macc :–)
Although Flavius Josephus, too, drops the Danielic phrase “abomination
of desolation,” in his retelling of the Antiochus narrative, Josephus does
refer to Daniel explicitly, and also speaks of the “desolation” of the
temple. Josephus mentions Antiochus’ profanation of the temple in his
narration of the rededication of the temple ( bc) which, according to
 Maccabees, signalled the beginning of a yearly festival:
Then Judas and his brothers and all the assembly of Israel determined
that every year at that season the days of dedication of the altar should be
observed with joy and gladness for eight days, beginning with the twenty-
fifth day of the month of Chislev. ( Macc :)8
In the context of his description of this rededication of the temple in
book  of his Jewish Antiquities, Josephus describes how the profanation
was foretold by Daniel:

8 For the rededication of the temple, see  Macc :– and  Macc :–. For the

inauguration of the festival, see also  Macc :.

 george h. van kooten

Now the desolation ( ρ7μωσις) of the temple came about in accordance

with the prophecy of Daniel, which had been made four hundred and
eight years before; for he had revealed that the Macedonians would destroy
it—τν δ5 ρ7μωσιν το4 ναο4 συνβη γενσBαι κατ$ τν Δανι7λου
προφητεαν πρ τετρακοσων κα: κτi γενομνην τDνY δ7λωσεν γ#ρ,
τι ΜακεδGνες καταλ σουσιν α*τGν. (Josephus, Ant. .)

Josephus already refers to Antiochus’ profanation of the Jerusalem temple

in his narrative about the historical Daniel and the visions which he
received in book  of the Jewish Antiquities. And very relevantly for our
present purposes, in one breath Josephus also points to the destruction
of the temple by the Romans in ad . Commenting on Daniel’s vision in
Daniel  about the arrival of the Greek-Hellenistic era and the subsequent
unfolding of Seleucid chronology, Josephus writes:
And there would arise from their number a certain king who would make
war on the Jewish nation and their laws, deprive them of the form of
government based on these laws, spoil the temple and prevent the sacrifices
from being offered for three years [cf. Ant. .]. And these misfortunes
our nation did in fact come to experience under Antiochus Epiphanes, just
as Daniel many years before saw and wrote that they would happen. In the
same manner (τν α*τν δO τρGπον) Daniel also wrote about the empire
of the Romans and that Jerusalem would be taken by them and the temple
laid waste—τν α*τν δO τρGπον % Δανηλος κα: περ: τIς 3Ρωμαων
<γεμονας νγραψε, κα: τι Cπ5 α*τDν ρημωB7σεται. (Josephus, Ant.
.–)
There are several relevant aspects to this passage. () First, in Josephus’
interpretation of Daniel as applying also to the laying waste of the temple
by the Romans (τι Cπ5 α*τDν ρημωB7σεται), the Danielic vocabulary
of desolation ( ρ7μωσις) still shines through; this destruction, too, is
described in Danielic terminology.

() Secondly, the analogy which Josephus draws between the profanation
of the temple by Antiochus and the desolation by the Romans throws a
great deal of light on how Mark can apply the Daniel statement concern-
ing Antiochus’ instalment of the abomination of desolation to the Roman
emperor Nero (see Mark ).9 According to Josephus, Daniel not only
foresaw Antiochus’ profanation but also, “in the same manner” (τν α*-
τν δO τρGπον), wrote about the events of ad . How exactly Josephus
understood the qualifier “in the same manner” remains unclear. It seems

9 On Mark and Nero, see M. Hengel, Studies in the Gospel of Mark (Philadelphia

), –.
 “the most holy temple of all the world” 

as though he thinks a double application of the same prophecy is possible.

We shall also see this procedure at work in Hippolytus.

() Thirdly, it is remarkable that Josephus does not draw the analogy
between Antiochus and the Romans in The Jewish War, when describing
the destruction of the Jerusalem temple by the Romans. In his description
of the events of ad  Josephus does not refer back to Daniel’s prophecy
about Antiochus, and does not say that it applies equally to Vespasian.
He probably refrains from doing so, because the comparison between
Antiochus IV and Vespasian would reflect badly upon the latter. It seems,
however, that book  of his Jewish Antiquities harbours less favourable
views on the Flavians, at least implicitly, by comparing their actions with
those of Antiochus.

() Finally, I wish to point out that the way in which Josephus portrays
Antiochus in the passage above constructs a deliberate antithesis with
Alexander the Great. Whereas Antiochus, as Daniel predicted, would
try to abolish the Jewish cult and customs, Alexander the Great, upon
his arrival in Jerusalem, would be very pleased to read in the book of
Daniel, presumably in the vision of the defeat of a ram by a goat (Daniel
), that he was to defeat the Persians. Out of gratitude, according to
Josephus, Alexander would grant the Jews freedom of religion. From this
perspective, Alexander the Great contrasts sharply with both Antiochus
and the Romans, who either profaned or even destroyed the Jerusalem
cult. The actions of the latter two are very different from the attitude of
Alexander:
Then he went up to the temple, where he sacrificed to God under the
direction of the high priest, and showed due honour to the priests and to
the high priest himself. And, when the book of Daniel was shown to him,
in which he had declared that one of the Greeks would destroy the empire
of the Persians, he believed himself to be the one indicated. (Josephus, Ant.
.)
In return, Alexander grants the Jews the right to live according to their
ancestral customs (Ant. .–).

.. Christian interpretations

Following the gospel of Mark, several Christians applied the Danielic
prediction of the “abomination of desolation” to the events of ad ,
either to Nero or the Flavians. Even more Christian interpreters, the
 george h. van kooten

majority, applied the phrase exclusively to the future activities of the

antichrist. Only a few Christians continued to realize that, originally,
the prediction applied to Antiochus IV. The latter category includes
Hippolytus (ca. ad –ca. ), Jerome (ca. ad –), and Cassian
(ca. ad  – ca. ).

... Hippolytus
In Hippolytus’ commentary on Daniel, in what is generally taken to be
the oldest preserved Christian commentary on a biblical book, Hippoly-
tus has a similar kind of double application of Daniel’s prophecy as we
encountered in Josephus. Hippolytus applies Daniel’s prediction regard-
ing the erection of an abomination of desolation in the Jerusalem temple
both to the events under Antiochus IV and to a second occasion after
that. But whereas Josephus dates this second instance in the past, in the
time of Vespasian, Hippolytus expects it to take place in the future, in the
time of the antichrist. Hippolytus reads the dual application of Daniel’s
prophecy back into the compound expression “abomination of deso-
lation,” and dates the “abomination” as a local affair under Antiochus,
whereas the “desolation” is taken to refer to a universal episode at the
end of time.10 According to Hippolytus,
Daniel has spoken, therefore, of two abominations; the one of destruc-
tion, and the other of desolation. What is that of destruction, but that
which Antiochus established there at the time? And what is that of desola-
tion, but that which shall be universal when antichrist comes?—Δ ο οjν
βδελ γματα προερηκεν Δανι7λ, Tν μOν φανισμο4, Tν δO ρημσεως.
Τ τ το4 φανισμο4 (λλ5 V k
στησεν κε? κατ$ τν καιρν % 5Αντοχος;
κα: τ τ τIς ρημσεως (λλ5 V τ καB5 λου, 9ς παρσται % ντχριστος;
(Hippolytus, Comm. Dan. .)
Although Josephus and Hippolytus differ in their understanding of the
second event, both agree that the first incident is that of Antiochus’ pro-
fanation of the Jerusalem temple. Hippolytus is well aware of the figure of
Antiochus, probably because he is familiar with  Maccabees (Hippoly-
tus, Comm. Dan. ., , ); he is also acquainted with  Maccabees,
as is shown by the reference to the history of the seven martyrs, which is
derived from  Maccabees  (Hippolytus, Comm. Dan. .; cf. also .).

10 Cf. also the Alexandrian presbyter Ammonius who, according to Cook, “saw a

‘partial abomination’ in Antiochus with the universal abomination referring to the Anti-
christ.” See J.G. Cook, The Interpretation of the Old Testament in Greco-Roman Paganism
(Studien und Texte zu Antike und Christentum ; Tübingen ), – n. .
 “the most holy temple of all the world” 

Hippolytus is positive that Daniel’s predictions regarding Antiochus IV

have indeed been fulfilled, as he says explicitly: Κα: γεγνηται κα: το4το
(.). Hippolytus’ profound knowledge of  Maccabees is probably the
reason that he is unable to deny the historical dimension of the Danielic
text. Hippolytus, by placing the second manifestation of the abomina-
tion of desolation in the future, even goes against the original meaning
of Mark , which, like Josephus, is concerned with the destruction of the
temple by the Romans in ad . Hippolytus’ connection of the abomina-
tion of desolation with the antichrist becomes common practice, how-
ever, in interpreters such as Irenaeus, Origen, and Ambrosius. What is
remarkable about Hippolytus is the extent to which he simultaneously
retains the link between the text of Daniel – and the historical events
surrounding Antiochus IV.

... Jerome
The same continuing interest in the original historical circumstances in
the Hellenistic era is present in Jerome. In his commentary on Daniel,
Jerome mentions both the plundering of the Jerusalem temple and the
installation of the abomination of desolation by Antiochus IV Epiphanes:
Those of another perspective claim that the persons spoken about [in
Dan :] are those who were sent by Antiochus two years after he had
looted the temple to exact tribute from the Jews—and also to erase rev-
erence for God, he set up an image of Jupiter Olympius in the Temple at
Jerusalem, and also statues of Antiochus. Now this is called the abomi-
nation of desolation, having been set up when the holocaust and contin-
ual sacrifice were abolished.—Volunt autem eos significari: qui ab Anti-
ocho missi sunt, post biennium quam templum exspoliaverat, ut tributa
exigerent a Iudaeis et auferrent cultum Dei et in templo Hierusalem Iovis
Olympii simulacrum et Antiochi statuas ponerent, quas nunc “abomina-
tionem desolationis” vocat, quando ablatum est holocaustum et iuge sacri-
ficium. (Jerome, Comm. Dan. .., .– [trans. Berchman, frg.
]; cf.  Macc :–, ; :–)11

Jerome ascribes this view to “those of another perspective,” i.e., to the

pagan philosopher Porphyry (ad –ca. ). Porphyry studied at Ath-
ens, and with Plotinus at Rome. Following in the footsteps of Plotinus’
writings against the Christian Gnostics (Enneads .), Porphyry wrote a

11 Ed. F. Glorie, Commentariorum in Danielem Libri III IV(vol. . of S. Hieronymi

Presbyteri Opera; CCSL A; Turnhout ). References are to section numbers, fol-
lowed by page and line numbers.
 george h. van kooten

treatise Against the Christians; in the twelfth book of this work, as Jerome
remarks, Porphyry attacks the way in which Christians interpret the
prophecies of Daniel as being fulfilled in the Christian era.12 As Jerome
reports in the introduction to his commentary, Porphyry bases his attack
on the observation that the book of Daniel is a pseudepigraphical writing
of the Hellenistic era, and that it is composed on the principle of vaticinia
ex eventu:
Porphyry wrote his twelfth book against Daniel’s prophecy, denying that
it was written by the person to whom its title refers, but rather by some
person residing in Judea at the time of that Antiochus, who was surnamed
Epiphanes. Furthermore he alleged that “Daniel” did not foretell the future
as much as he narrated the past, and finally whatever he said until the time
of Antiochus contained true history, while anything he may have opined
beyond that point was false, inasmuch as he could not have foreknown the
future. (Jerome, Comm. Dan., Prologus, .–)
As a result, according to Jerome, Porphyry claims that everything
which—in the view of Christians—is predicted in the book of Daniel
about the Christian era in general and about the advent of the antichrist
in particular has already been fulfilled in the time of Antiochus Epiph-
anes (Prologus, .–). Interestingly, however, with regard to the
“abomination of desolation” mentioned in Dan :, Jerome does not
simply disagree with Porphyry by stating that this passage applies to the
antichrist instead of Antiochus. Like Josephus and Hippolytus, Jerome
believes that the prophecies of Daniel can have a double application, the
first with reference to Antiochus, the second to a later event. Whereas
Josephus sees this second instance as having already taken place in his
own past, in the events of ad , according to both Hippolytus and
Jerome the second fulfilment of Daniel’s prediction is expected to take
place with the future manifestation of the antichrist. None of the three,
however, denies that the first historical context is that of Antiochus
Epiphanes.

12 On the historical setting of Porphyry’s treatise, see T.D. Barnes, “Scholarship or

Propaganda?: Porphyry’s Against the Christians and Its Historical Setting,” Bulletin of
the Institute of Classical Studies  () –. For translations of Porphyry’s views
on Daniel, see R.M. Berchman, Porphyry Against the Christians (Ancient Mediterranean
and Medieval Texts and Contexts: Studies in Platonism, Neoplatonism, and the Platonic
tradition ; Leiden ); Cook, The Interpretation of the Old Testament; M. Stern, Greek
and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism: Edited with Introductions, Translations and
Commentary (Publications of the Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, Section
of Humanities; Fontes ad res Judaicas spectantes;  vols.; Jerusalem –), no. .
 “the most holy temple of all the world” 

As far as the Christian authors Hippolytus and Jerome are concerned,

the latter’s view are far more sophisticated than the former’s. They need
to be, as Hippolytus lived prior to Porphyry’s detailed criticism of the
book of Daniel in the third century ad, whereas Jerome could not ignore
it. Jerome was not the first Christian to deal with Porphyry’s views on
Daniel; in his prologue he refers to Eusebius of Caesarea, Apollinaris of
Laodicea and Methodius for previous attempts (.–.), which
have not been preserved. Whereas Hippolytus simply, without further
reflection, distinguishes between two kinds of abomination, the “abom-
ination of destruction” which Antiochus established locally, and the
“abomination of desolation” which the antichrist will enact universally,
Jerome’s treatment of the phrase “abomination of desolation” is sophis-
ticated in two respects: (a) he develops a detailed chronology which
spans the Graeco-Roman period, and which enables him to differenti-
ate between different referents of the phrase “abomination of desolation,”
and (b) he distinguishes between a historical and typological interpreta-
tion of the term under consideration.

Jerome’s chronology and the referents of “abomination of desolation”

First, Jerome differentiates between different events in history that the
phrase “abomination of desolation” stands for, depending on the chapter
of Daniel in which it occurs. Whereas Porphyry reads all three instances
of the phrase (Dan :; :; :) as a consistent reference to the
desecration of the Jerusalem temple by Antiochus in the Hellenistic era,
Jerome regards the occurrences in Daniel  and  as a reference to the
future manifestation of the antichrist in the Roman era, while assigning
to the instance of Daniel  a dual date, both in the Hellenistic period
under Antiochus, and at the end of the Roman period when the antichrist
will appear.13 For this reason, unlike Porphyry, Jerome recommends not
only the Greek historians as background reading to the book of Daniel,
but also Josephus, together with the Roman historians whom he invokes,
and who cover the entire period from Alexander the Great through to
Augustus:
And now, to understand the last parts of Daniel, a many-faceted study
of Greek history is necessary: such authorities as Sutorius, Callinicus,
Diodorus, Hieronymus, Polybius, Posidonius, Claudius Theon, and An-

13 On Jerome’s view on the antichrist, see also J.P. O’Connell, The Eschatology of Saint

Jerome (Dissertationes ad lauream; Pontificia facultas theologia Seminarii Sanctae Mariae

ad lacum ; Mundelein, Ill., ), –.
 george h. van kooten

dronicus, surnamed Alipius, whom Porphyry says he himself followed;

but, Josephus, too, and those whom Josephus invokes, especially our Livy,
Pompeius Trogus, and Justin. (Prologus, .–; includes Berchman,
frg. )
Jerome’s clear message is that the prophecies of Daniel apply not only to
the Hellenistic period, but also to the Roman era in which the appear-
ance of Christ and the future manifestation of the antichrist take place.
Already in his interpretation of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream of the great
statue which consists of layers of gold, silver, bronze, and iron mixed with
clay, and which is struck by a stone in Daniel , Jerome deviates from
Porphyry. Jerome considers the mixture of iron and clay, which symbol-
izes the fourth kingdom (Dan :), as a reference not to the Hellenis-
tic Greeks, but to the Romans, whose strength is diminished because
“in the civil wars and in the wars against diverse nations, we need the
help,” Jerome says, “of barbarian people” (..–, .–.–
.).14 Similarly, in his exegesis of Daniel’s vision of the four animals
in Daniel , Jerome criticizes Porphyry for taking the third and fourth
beast together as a reference to the Hellenistic kingdom. According to
Jerome, the third beast refers to Alexander and his successors, the fourth
to the Romans (..a, .–.). The reasons for Jerome’s dat-
ing of the fulfilment of these prophecies in Roman times instead of the
Hellenistic period is that he doubts whether particular features of Daniel
 and  were indeed realized in the time of Antiochus IV. The stone which
is said to hit the statue in Daniel  is described as having been “cut out,
not by human hands,” and it strikes the statue in such a way that
the iron, the clay, the bronze, the silver, and the gold were all broken in
pieces and became like the chaff of the summer threshing-floors; and the
wind carried them away, so that not a trace of them could be found. But the
stone that struck the statue became a great mountain and filled the whole
earth. (Dan :–)

14 For the social-cultural context of Jerome’s commentary on Daniel, R. Courtray, “Der

Danielkommentar des Hieronymus,” in Die Geschichte der Daniel-Auslegung in Judentum,

Christentum und Islam: Studien zur Kommentierung des Danielbuches in Literatur und
Kunst (ed. K. Bracht and D.S. du Toit; BZAW ; Berlin ), –, esp. –,
–. Cf. also G.S. Oegema, “Die Danielrezeption in der alten Kirche,” in Europa,
Tausendjähriges Reich und Neue Welt: Zwei Jahrtausende Geschichte und Utopie in der
Rezeption des Danielbuches (ed. M. Delgado et al.; Studien zur christlichen Religions-
und Kulturgeschichte ; Freiburg ), – at : “seine Endzeiterwartungen [wur-
den] möglicherweise von den Angriffen der Barbaren am Anfang des . Jh.s n. Chr.
beeinflusst.”
 “the most holy temple of all the world” 

This description, according to Jerome, is wrongly applied, both by

Porphyry and by Jewish interpreters, to the Maccabees who resisted
Antiochus:
“He became a great mountain and filled the whole earth.” This the Jews and
the impious Porphyry incorrectly apply to the people of Israel, who they
insist will be the greatest power at the end of the ages, and will crush all
realms, and will rule for eternity. (..–, .–; Berchman, frg.
, with alterations)

These expectations regarding a permanent, powerful and universal king-

dom were not fulfilled in Hellenistic times, Jerome implies. The same
holds true for the prophecy regarding the “son of man” in Daniel , the
“one like a human being” who is expected to receive dominion when the
fourth beast (identified with the Greeks in Porphyry’s interpretation, but
with the Romans from Jerome’s perspective), and in particular the little
horn which comes up among its ten horns, is put to death. It is this “son
of man” to whom
was given dominion and glory and kingship, that all peoples, nations, and
languages should serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that
shall not pass away, and his kingship is one that shall never be destroyed.
(Dan :)

This, Jerome states, cannot apply to one of the Maccabees who resisted
Antiochus IV:
Let Porphyry answer the question from all mankind to whom this language
refers, or who this person might be who was so strong as to break and crush
to pieces the little horn, whom he contrives to be Antiochus? If he answers
that the princes of Antiochus were defeated by Judas Maccabaeus, then he
must explain how Judas could be said to arrive with the heavenly clouds as
the Son of Man. (..b, .–)

And if it is written that “the holy ones of the Most High shall receive
the kingdom and possess the kingdom for ever—for ever and ever”
(Dan :), Jerome remarks that “if one applies this prophecy to the
Maccabees, the one who advances this opinion should clarify in what
sense their reign is eternal” (..b, .–). The reference to “an
eternal, everlasting kingdom” (Dan :), according to Jerome, is made
with regard to the empire of Jesus Christ which is eternal: “Hoc de Christi
imperio quod sempiternum est” (..a, .–).
In Jerome’s view, neither the stone in Daniel , nor the son of man in
Daniel  represents the Jewish resistance to Antiochus IV, because their
rule was not universal, nor did their rule prove lasting. Near the end of
 george h. van kooten

his commentary Jerome draws his observations together in the following

rhetorical questions to Porphyry:
He should leave aside what is dubious, and keep himself to what is mani-
fest: Let him tell who is this stone, cut from the mountain not by human
hands, and which became a great mountain and filled the whole earth, and
struck the statue which consists of four forms? Who is this son of man,
who needs to come with the clouds of heaven, appear before the Ancient
One, and receive a kingdom which is not limited by any end—this son
of man whom all peoples, tribes, and languages should serve? Porphyry
dismisses things which are manifest, and asserts that the prophecy refers
to the Jews, although we know well that they are in chains up to this day.
And he claims that the person who wrote the book of Daniel made it up in
his mind to renew the hopes of his landsmen—not that he was capable of
fore-knowledge of the whole of future history. Rather he remembers facts
that had already occurred. (..–, .–; includes Berchman,
frg. )

For these reasons, Jerome refuses to limit the interpretation of the proph-
ecies of Daniel to the Hellenistic era. The aim of his entire commentary,
as Jerome renders explicit in the prologue, is in fact to demonstrate
that the arrival of Christ on the scene of history in the Roman era was
prophesied by Daniel. Having just said that Porphyry’s view on Daniel has
already been successfully refuted by Eusebius, Apollinaris of Laodicea
and, before them, although only partially, by Methodius, Jerome states:
As my true aim is not to reply to the false statements of an adversary, which
would require a long treatise, but to explicate for our own people, i.e., the
Christians, what the prophet has said, in the prologue I remind the readers
forcibly of the fact that no other prophet has so clearly spoken about Christ.
And not only did he write that he would come, which he holds in common
with other prophets, but he taught in which era he would come, listed the
kings in their proper order, enumerated the years, and predicted the most
notable signs. (Prologus, .–)

In order to realize this aim, Jerome must argue that Daniel’s prophecies
are not limited to the time of the Babylonians, the Medes and Persians,
and the Hellenistic Greeks (..–, .–), but also encompass
the Roman era, which saw the birth of Christ and still extends into the
future, to the advent of the antichrist. It is against this chronological
background that Jerome also interprets the chapters in which the phrase
“abomination of desolation” occurs (Dan :; :; :). Unlike
Porphyry, who interprets this phrase in a uniform way with reference
to Antiochus IV’s profanation of the Jerusalem temple, Jerome applies
it to the future actions of the antichrist. Like Daniel  and , Daniel 
 “the most holy temple of all the world” 

and – are related by Jerome to the end of the Roman era. We shall
see, however, that this is not entirely true of Daniel . In this chapter
Jerome also seriously contemplates, and does not rule out, a connection
with the Hellenistic era of Antiochus IV. We shall now discuss in detail
how Jerome interprets the actual phrase “abomination of desolation” in
Dan :; :; :.
In Daniel’s prophecy in Daniel  regarding the “seventy weeks” which
elapse between the end of the Babylonian exile and the end of time, the
last week, in which the abomination of desolation becomes apparent, is
described as follows, in the words of the angel Gabriel:
 An anointed one shall be cut off and shall have nothing, and the troops of
the prince who is to come shall destroy the city and the sanctuary. Its end
shall come with a flood, and to the end there shall be war. Desolations are
decreed.
 He shall make a strong covenant with many for one week, and for half of
the week he shall make sacrifice and offering cease; and in their place shall
be an abomination that desolates, until the decreed end is poured out upon
the desolator. (Dan :–)
In this instance, Jerome only records the opinions of various Christian
commentators and refers for an interpretation of the phrase “abomi-
nation of desolation” to Apollinaris of Laodicea, whom Jerome—as we
saw above—also mentions as one of the earlier critics of Porphyry (Pro-
logus, .–.). He is the only one of the commentators whose
views on the abomination of desolation are explicitly brought up. Accord-
ing to Apollinaris, the abomination of desolation will take place under
the antichrist (., a, .–). In his commentary on Daniel ,
Jerome does not present his own position, but offers his readers a wide
selection of choices: he affects to find it inappropriate to judge the opin-
ions of the masters of the church and to prefer one to the other. Among
his choices are futuristic interpretations in terms of the antichrist (like
Apollinaris’ interpretation), and historical explications which point to
Nero or Vespasian and Titus, or, in the case of Jewish interpretations,
to the period from Vespasian to Hadrian. None of these historical inter-
pretations refers to Antiochus IV. Jerome himself, however, does not
defend an interpretation which identifies the abomination of desolation
as a future activity of the antichrist; he clearly leaves open the possibility
that the prophecy has already been fulfilled in the past, although he only
presents possibilities in the Roman era.
Jerome does refer to the Hellenistic era in his comments on the phrase
“abomination of desolation” in Dan :. To modern scholars, Daniel
 george h. van kooten

 reads as an increasingly detailed chronology of the conflict between

Persia and Greece, the arrival of Alexander the Great on the historical
scene, and the further developments of the Hellenistic era, with special
attention to the conflict between Antiochus IV and the Jews, the tempo-
rary interference of the Romans, the deepening crisis, and—at the begin-
ning of Daniel —the definitive intervention by Michael, the archangel.
Jerome, however, is convinced that Daniel  is mainly concerned with
the Roman era, and contains a prediction of the antichrist’s activities
in the future. Yet he grants that the antichrist’s actions, including the
installation of the abomination of desolation, have already been prefig-
ured by Antiochus IV. I shall return to this interpretation below, in com-
menting on the second aspect of Jerome’s sophisticated Daniel interpre-
tation, which consists of his differentiation between a historical and a
typological understanding of the abomination of desolation. For now it
may suffice to note that the “abomination of desolation” has no consis-
tent meaning in Jerome, but depends on the chronological framework in
which the relevant chapter is read.
Whereas the abomination of desolation somehow refers to Antiochus
in Dan :, Jerome explicitly denies that this is also the case in Dan
:. In Jerome’s view, Daniel , like Daniel  and , resists a Hel-
lenistic interpretation. The chapter speaks about the intervention of the
archangel Michael, “the protector of your people,” and prophesies that
after a time of anguish the resurrection will take place (Dan :–).
At the end of the chapter, in the final words of an angel addressed to
Daniel, reference is made to the abomination of desolation: “From the
time that the regular burnt offering is taken away and the abomination
that desolates is set up, there shall be one thousand two hundred and
ninety days” (Dan :). According to Jerome, this reference to ,
days, i.e., . years, cannot possibly be a reference to the period during
which the Jerusalem temple was defiled by Antiochus IV. The reason for
this, as Jerome points out, is that both Josephus and  Maccabees mention
a period of three years for the temple’s violated state:
Porphyry asserts that these , days were completed in Antiochus’ time
and in the desolation of the temple, whereas Josephus and the book of the
Maccabees do not give but three years to this incident. Because of this, it
is evident that these . years belong to the era of the antichrist, who will
persecute the saints . . . From the time of the endelechismos, i.e. during the
time of the cessation of the perpetual sacrifice, when the antichrist, the
ruler of the world, will have forbidden the worship of God, until the death
of this antichrist, . years or , days will be completed. (..–,
.–.; includes Berchman, frg. )
 “the most holy temple of all the world” 

And indeed, according to both  Maccabees and Josephus’ Jewish An-

tiquities the duration of the desecration of the temple is three years
(see  Macc :; :; Josephus, Jewish Antiquities ., –),
although in his Jewish War Josephus does speak of a period of .
years (Jewish War .). Jerome needs to take Porphyry’s criticism very
seriously, and for that reason occupies himself with the most minute
details of the chronology of the Hellenistic period. In some cases Jerome
proves to be right and Porphyry’s reasoning wrong or unsatisfactory,15
but Jerome’s argument that the . years mentioned in Dan : cannot
possibly apply to the events under Antiochus IV sounds very artificial.
In comparison to Hippolytus, however, who, without further argu-
mentation, differentiates between two kinds of abomination, the abomi-
nation of destruction which Antiochus established locally, and the abom-
ination of desolation which the antichrist will perform universally, Je-
rome’s reply is characterized by a sophisticated chronology. In his view,
depending on the relevant chapter in Daniel, the phrase “abomination of
desolation” refers either to the activities of the antichrist in the Roman era
(Dan :; :) or, at least partially, to those of Antiochus in the Hel-
lenistic era (Dan :). To argue this, Jerome needs not only a chrono-
logical framework, but also, as I shall now show in some detail, a differ-
entiation between a historical and a typological methodology of inter-
pretation. This establishes a second distinctive characteristic of Jerome’s
interpretation of Daniel.

Jerome’s historical and typological understanding of the “abomination of

desolation”
With regard to the occurrence of “abomination of desolation” in Dan
:, Jerome grants that the phrase may refer, in a typological way, to the
events under Antiochus. The first part of Daniel  was treated by Jerome
as part of Hellenistic history anyway. This is difficult to deny for Jerome,
since the text itself explicitly mentions the confrontation of Persia and
Greece:
Now I will announce the truth to you. Three more kings shall arise in
Persia. The fourth shall be far richer than all of them, and when he has
become strong through his riches, he shall stir up all against the kingdom
of Greece. (Dan :)
Jerome does not dispute the references in the ensuing chronology to
Alexander the Great: “Perspicue de magno Alexandro rege Macedonum
15 See Cook, The Interpretation of the Old Testament, , , –, , –.
 george h. van kooten

loquitur” (..–a, .–). In Jerome’s view, however, the devel-

oping line of Greek Hellenistic history only runs up to and including
Dan : when, from Jerome’s perspective, the continuous chronolog-
ical development is interrupted in the time of Seleucus IV Philopator
(ca. – bc), the second son of Antiochus III the Great (ca. –
 bc), and continues, from Dan : onwards, in the time of the
antichrist. Until Dan :, Jerome emphasizes, there is indeed no dif-
ference between him and Porphyry in their interpretation of Daniel 
in terms of Hellenistic history:
Until this point the historical order has been followed, and there has been
no point of contention between Porphyry and us. But the remainder of the
document, from here [i.e. from Dan :] to the end of the volume [i.e. to
the end of Daniel ], he interprets as referring to the person of Antiochus,
who was surnamed Epiphanes, brother of Seleucus, and Antiochus the
Great’s son. He ruled Syria for eleven years after Seleucus, and he seized
Judea. God’s law was persecuted under him, and the Maccabean war
occurred. Our own authors, however, judge that everything which follows
was prophesied about the antichrist, who must come at the end of time.
(.., .–; includes Berchman, frg. )
To the objection that it seems odd that in this way there would be such
a spacious interval between Seleucus IV and the end of time, Jerome
answers, among other considerations, that
if it is true that there are a great number of details, which we could read
and explain, that fit the figure of Antiochus [IV] so well, it is because
the Scriptures wished to set him up as a type of the antichrist, holding
that the things that would happen beforehand under him only partially,
would be fully fulfilled in the time of the antichrist. This is a custom of the
holy Scriptures that they demonstrate in advance in particular types what
will truly take place in the future—cumque multa, quae postea lecturi et
exposituri sumus, super Antiochi persona conveniant, typum eum volunt
fuisse Antichristi, et quae in illo ex parte praecesserint, in Antichristo ex
toto esse complenda, et hunc esse morem scripturae sanctae: ut futurorum
veritatem praemittat in typis. (.., .–)
In the rest of his commentary on Daniel , Jerome continues this his-
torical and typological interpretation of the events under Antiochus IV.
Just as Christ has Solomon and other saints as a type of his arrival, the
antichrist is rightly believed to be prefigured in the type of a bad king such
as Antiochus IV, who persecuted the saints and profaned the temple—
Sicut igitur Salvator habet et Salomonem et ceteros sanctos in typum
adventus sui, sic et Antichristus pessimum regem Antiochum, qui sanctos
persecutus est templumque violavit, recte typum sui habuisse credendus
est. (.., .–)
 “the most holy temple of all the world” 

With regard to a particular feature of the history of Antiochus as de-

scribed in Dan :–, Jerome remarks that
all this happened before in an image under Antiochus Epiphanes, in order
that the most criminal king who persecuted the people of God would
prefigure the antichrist who is to persecute the people of Jesus Christ—
haec autem sub Antiocho Epiphane in imaginem praecesserunt: ut rex
sceleratissimus qui persecutus est populum Dei, praefiguret Antichristum
qui Christi populum persecuturus est. (..b–a, .–)
Jerome immediately continues this passage by noting that
the cruelty and the incomparable baseness of Domitian or Nero (or: Domi-
tius Nero) has led many of us to believe that one ought to detect in him
the antichrist—unde multi nostrorum putant, ob saeuitiae et turpitudi-
nis magnitudinem, Domitianum, Neronem, Antichristum fore. (..b–
a, .–)
In this way Jerome gives an interesting insight that the dark figure of
Daniel  was identified by many Christians as Domitian or Nero, or
simply as Domitius Nero. Jerome himself, however, refers to Antiochus,
who is taken as a prefiguration of the antichrist.
Jerome shows himself also very much aware of the parallels between
events mentioned in Daniel  and the history of Antiochus as described
in  Maccabees. As regards the prediction of Dan : that the adversary
of Daniel , when forced to withdraw from his attack on Egypt, “shall
be enraged and take action against the holy covenant; he shall turn back
and pay heed to those who forsake the holy covenant,” Jerome notes
that
This is what we clearly read in the tales of the Maccabees (“Haec ple-
nius in Machabaeorum gestis legimus”), that after the Romans had chased
Antiochus from Egypt,  Maccabees , he marched with fury against the
covenant of the sanctuary, invited by those who had abandoned the law
of God and had participated in pagan ceremonies. All this will be accom-
plished in a much more complete way under the antichrist (“Quod ple-
nius complendum est sub Antichristo”), who will be indignant against the
covenant of God and will devise plans against those whom he wants to
abandon the divine law. (..b, .–)
In line with this the next verse, Dan :, which contains the reference
to the abomination of desolation, is also read with regard to Antiochus:
Forces sent by him shall occupy and profane the temple and fortress. They
shall abolish the regular burnt-offering and set up the abomination that
makes desolate. (Dan :)
Not only Porphyry reads this passage as a description of Antiochus’
 george h. van kooten

installation of the “abomination of desolation” in the Jerusalem temple.

Jerome shares this understanding of the passage although he interprets
it both in a historical and a typological way. Jerome clearly grants that
Antiochus’ installation of an idol of Zeus in the Jerusalem temple is what
the Scriptures call “the abomination of desolation”:
Those of another perspective claim that the persons spoken about are those
who were sent by Antiochus two years after he had looted the temple to
exact tribute from the Jews. And also to erase reverence for God, he set up
an image of Jupiter Olympius in the Temple of Jerusalem, and also statues
of Antiochus. Now this is called the abomination of desolation, having
been set up when the holocaust and continual sacrifice were abolished.
(.., .–; Berchman, frg. )
Curiously, this opinion of Porphyry includes a detail not found in  and
 Maccabees and Josephus that in addition to an image of Zeus, statues
of Antiochus were also set up in the Jerusalem temple.  Maccabees
speaks simply of the erection of “a desolating sacrilege on the altar
of burnt offering” (:; cf. :–); it is the author of  Maccabees
who implies that an image of Zeus was erected, because he talks of
the pollution of the temple in Jerusalem which is transformed into a
temple of the Olympian Zeus (:). Similarly, Josephus only describes
the activities of Antiochus as spoiling the temple and preventing the
sacrifices from being offered for three years (Jewish Antiquities .–
), forbidding the Jews “to offer the daily sacrifices which they used
to offer to God in accordance with their law” (.), and building
a pagan altar upon the temple altar (.). It is only in  Macc :,
thus, that the abomination of desolation is linked to Zeus, but statues
of Antiochus are not mentioned anywhere. Porphyry’s mention of them
seems to be a conflation with the events under Caligula, when an image
of this emperor was due to be set up in the Jerusalem temple (see Philo,
Legatio ad Gaium). Jerome accepts Porphyry’s description of the actions
of Antiochus as historically accurate, but again supplements it with a
typological interpretation, according to which Antiochus prefigures the
antichrist. The latter is described in more detail in language derived from
 Thessalonians:
Our own people maintain that all this went before in a type of the antichrist
(“Quae uniuversa in typo Antichristi nostri praecessisse contendunt”),
who was determined to set himself in the temple of God and to pretend to
be God (cf.  Thess :–). (.., .–.)
At the same time, Jerome gives interesting insights into what might be
regarded as contemporary Jewish exegesis:
 “the most holy temple of all the world” 

The Jews, however, wish to understand this passage not with regard to
Antiochus Epiphanes, nor with regard to the antichrist, but with regard
to the Romans or the Italians . . . After a long time, from among these
Romans, who came to the recourse of Ptolemy and threatened Antiochus
with an attack, there will arise king Vespasian. His arms and seed will
rise, and Titus his son, with his army, will pollute the sanctuary and cause
the perpetual sacrifice to cease, and hand the temple over to an eternal
solitude. (.., .–)
Although, as J. Braverman has shown, this Jewish exegesis seems not
to have been recorded in rabbinical literature, it is likely that Jerome,
who commanded the Hebrew language and lived in Palestine is aware
of Jewish exegetical traditions.16 This also applies to the following pas-
sage in Dan :–, which narrates how those who remain loyal to
their God and stand firm against the figure who sets up the abomi-
nation of desolation “fall by sword and flame, and suffer captivity and
plunder.”17 According to “the Hebrews” this passage concerns the final
destruction of the temple under Vespasian and Titus (.., .–
). The subsequent remark in Dan : that “When they fall victim,
they shall receive a little help,” is then interpreted by some Jews, accord-
ing to Jerome, in view of the more positive attitude of some later Roman
emperors:
Some of the Hebrews understand this with regard to the emperors Severus
and Antoninus,18 who very much liked the Jews. Others apply it to the
emperor Julian, in this sense that when they were suppressed by Gaius
Caligula and had suffered great difficulties in captivity, Julian arose; he
pretended to love the Jews and caused them to expect sacrifices in their
temple. (..–, .–)
The reason that Jerome adduces these Jewish interpretations seems to
be that he wants to show that, unlike Porphyry, both Jews and Chris-
tians connect particular prophecies of Daniel with the Roman era. At the
same time the grounds on which Jerome acknowledges that these pre-
dictions have already been (partially) fulfilled in the time of Antiochus

16 J. Braverman, Jerome’s Commentary on Daniel: A Study of Comparative Jewish and

Christian Interpretations of the Hebrew Bible (CBQMS ; Washington, D.C., ), –
.
17 Cf. Cook, The Interpretation of the Old Testament,  n. , with reference to

Braverman, Jerome’s Commentary, –.

18 For the identification of these emperors, cf. Cook, The Interpretation of the Old

Testament,  n. : Alexander Severus, ad –, and an unidentifiable emperor.

 george h. van kooten

seem to consist in the evidence provided by  Maccabees. Time and again,

after Jerome has given Porphyry’s interpretation of a Danielic passage,
he clarifies that “we read this in the book of the Maccabees”: “Et hoc in
Machabaeis legimus” (.., .).19 It seems that Porphyry him-
self is already referring to  Maccabees.20 Embedded in his interpreta-
tion of Dan :– we find the exhortation to read the books of the
Maccabees, followed by the remark that by that account all these things
have already taken place: “lege Machabaeorum libros; haec autem omnia
idcirco sunt facta” (..–, .–). For this reason we can
surmise that it is Porphyry’s dependence on  Maccabees in his exe-
gesis of Daniel which makes it impossible for Jerome to ignore either
 Maccabees or Josephus (see, e.g. ..–, .–) and causes
him to take an interpretation of Daniel against the background of Hel-
lenistic history very seriously indeed. At the same time, throughout his
interpretation of Dan :–, Jerome continues his typological read-
ing of the events because he is not satisfied that all details of the section
can be subsumed under a historical reading.
It is important to note that, in Jerome’s exegetical methodology, a pas-
sage which can be elucidated through a historical interpretation does
not necessarily have a double, typological meaning. This becomes appar-
ent from Jerome’s comments on Daniel , the vision of the Persian ram
which is struck by the Hellenistic goat, which is only interpreted in a
historical way with regard to the Hellenistic era, without any further
typological interpretation. Of course Jerome is obliged to take this view,
because Gabriel’s interpretation of the vision explicitly mentions Greece:
“the male goat is the king of Greece, and the great horn between its eyes is
the first king” (Dan :). This holds true for all three instances in Daniel
where Greece is mentioned explicitly (Dan :; :; :). In the same
way, Jerome offers an exclusively historical interpretation of Daniel 
(the vision of the conflict of nations and heavenly powers) in terms of
Hellenistic chronology. For the same reason, the first section of Daniel

19 See, as far as the interpretation of Daniel  is concerned, also ..b, .:

“Haec plenius in Machabaeorum gestis legimus”; .., .–: “Quanta Iudaei

passi sint ab Antiocho, Machabaeorum libri referunt.”
20 Cf. Cook, The Interpretation of the Old Testament, : “Though he [i.e. Jerome] does

not say that Porphyry claimed to have used Josephus, it is quite clear that Porphyry knew
of Josephus’ work. In his work on abstinence, Porphyry mentions the persecution under
Antiochus and then includes a description of the Essenes. He mentions three of Josephus’
major works: the Jewish War, Against Apion, and the Antiquities. The importance of
Josephus for Porphyry’s interpretation of Daniel should not be underrated.”
 “the most holy temple of all the world” 

 is explained in a fully historical way with reference to the events of the

Hellenistic era. Although Jerome’s attention for the Greek-Hellenistic set-
ting of Daniel , , and the first part of  was triggered by the explicit
mention of Greece in the Danielic text, there were Christian exegetes who
chose to ignore such chronological indications. Jerome himself remarks
that even in the case of Daniel , which the Danielic author himself links
to the Hellenistic age, the majority of Christian exegetes interpret the
events in a futuristic way with reference to the antichrist. Jerome himself,
however, does not agree with their approach. With regard to the predic-
tion of Dan :– about the emergence of “a king of bold countenance,”
“skilled in intrigue,” who will “grow strong in power and cause fearful
destruction,” Jerome states that the prophecy was fulfilled in Antiochus
Epiphanes who,
in his war against the Jews, after the conquest of Judea, entered Jerusalem,
and established the statue of Olympian Zeus—contra Iudaeos dimicans,
capta Iudaea, ingressus est Hierosolymam et in templo Dei simulacrum
Iovis Olympii statuit. (..b–, .–)
The question of Dan :, “For how long is this vision concerning the
regular burnt offering, the transgression that makes desolate, and the
giving over of the sanctuary and host to be trampled?,” is interpreted in
this chronological context:
One angel asks another until when God would permit, in the reign of
Antiochus of Syria, the temple to be desolated and the image of Zeus
to be maintained in the holy place—Unus angelus interrogat alterum
angelum: usque ad quod tempus Dei iudicio sub Antiocho rege Syriae
templum futurum sit desolatum et simulacrum Iovis staturum in temple
Dei. (..b, .–)
The answer of the other angel, to the effect that God will permit this “[f]or
two thousand three hundred evenings and mornings; then the sanctuary
shall be purified” (Dan :), is interpreted by Jerome on the basis of
 Maccabees and Josephus:
Let us read the books of the Maccabees and the history of Josephus
(“Legamus Machabaeorum libros et Iosephi historiam”), and we will find
that () in the rd year after Seleucus, who reigned as the first ruler in
Syria after Alexander, Antiochus entered Jerusalem, pillaged everything,
returned three years later, and placed the statue of Zeus in the temple
(“in templo posuisse statuam Iouis”), as well as that () until Judas the
Maccabee, i.e. until the th year, through the six years of the desolation
of Jerusalem, of which the three years of the profanation of the temple were
part, there passed , days and three months, after which the temple was
purified. (.., .–.)
 george h. van kooten

Jerome deliberately states that his interpretation of Daniel  is not

shared by the majority of Christian interpreters, but this notwithstand-
ing, he himself is convinced that the purification of the temple mentioned
in Dan : took place under Judas the Maccabee:
The majority of us link this passage with the antichrist, and they say that
what happened under Antiochus as a type of the future will be accom-
plished in reality under the antichrist. But these words, “the sanctuary
shall be purified,” point to the time of Judas the Maccabee—Hunc locum
plerique nostrorum ad Antichristum referent, et quod sub Antiocho in
typo factum est, sub illo in ueritate dicunt esse complendum. Quod autem
infer: Mundabitur sanctuarium, Iudae Machabaei signifcat tempora.
(.., .–)

Interestingly, Jerome here criticizes the majority view, which advocates

interpreting the vision of Daniel  not only in a historical sense, but also
in a typological way: “what happened under Antiochus as a type of the
future will be accomplished in reality under the antichrist.” Jerome rejects
this view because, in this particular case, a historical interpretation with
regard to the Hellenistic past is sufficient.21 From Jerome’s exegesis of
Daniel , it is apparent that, according to Jerome, a historical reading
cannot always be supplemented with a typological one.
Such a necessity, however, does exist in the exegesis of Daniel 
because, in Jerome’s view, the details of this vision are not sufficiently
explained with reference to Antiochus, although he is certainly implied.
The subject matter is not addressed in full unless one also explores
the typological dimension. For this reason, Jerome emphasizes in his
comments on Daniel  that a typological interpretation explains many
aspects of this vision better and more appropriately: “Nostri autem et
melius interpretantur et rectius” (.., .–). This typologi-
cal interpretation shows how everything will be accomplished more
completely under the antichrist—“Quod plenius complendum est sub
Antichristo” (..b, .). Depending on one’s exact understand-
ing of the text, Jerome admits, it is easier to apply it to Antiochus or to the
antichrist (..–, .–.). Some peculiarities only partly

21 This is not sufficiently recognized by Courtray, “Der Danielkommentar,” , who

writes: “Interessanterweise lehnt Hieronymus die Lektüre des neuplatonischen Philo-

sophen nicht gänzlich ab. Seine Argumente seien überzeugend: Bestimmte Passagen
könnten in der Tat auf Antiochus Epiphanes Anwendung finden. Aber diese Lesart
ist überaus reduzierend, sie berichtet nicht über die wahre Tragweite des Textes: Über
Antiochus ist von dem Antichrist die Rede.” This is not true, however, for Jerome’s
interpretation of Daniel .
 “the most holy temple of all the world” 

(“ex parte”) apply to Antiochus but are better suited to the figure of the
antichrist (..–, .–).
Until the very end of Daniel , Jerome deliberates whether a historical
interpretation of the chapter is exhaustive, as he argued for Daniel ,
or whether the passage harbours an additional meaning. In the end,
Jerome concludes that the contents of Daniel  are not essential for a
Christian application of the book of Daniel to the Roman era. Other
chapters, however, resist the restriction of the book’s relevance to the
Hellenistic period. In these instances it is possible to extend it into the
present, Roman era. The justification for this is offered, in Jerome’s view,
by Daniel’s visions about the stone, the son of man, and the resurrection
of the dead in chapters , , and  respectively; these chapters talk of a
universal, eternal kingdom of God, and thus cannot possibly refer to the
Jewish Maccabean kingdom which proved short-lived. Even if Porphyry
had shown convincingly that Daniel  applies to Antiochus, and not at
all to the antichrist, that would not harm the Christian religion in the
slightest. The vision of the ram and the goat in Daniel  was also fully
fulfilled by Antiochus, and left no room for an additional reference to
the antichrist. For this reason, Jerome’s final answer to Porphyry is that
he should pay attention to what is evident,22 which is that the prophecies
about a universal, indestructible kingdom have not been fulfilled in
the history of the Jews in the Hellenistic and Roman eras (..–,
.–).

. Concluding Observations

In the last instance, thus, Jerome not only argues that the referents of
the phrase “abomination of desolation” are both, historically speaking,
Antiochus, and, typologically speaking, the antichrist, but even comes
close to conceding to Porphyry that the purely historical interpretation
of the abomination of desolation in Dan : in terms of Antiochus’
desecration of the Jerusalem temple is possibly exhaustive. Yet, as we have
seen, in Dan : and Dan : the phrase is used of the activities of
the antichrist. However, given that many Christian interpreters favour
an exclusively futuristic interpretation of this phrase with regard to the
antichrist, it is Jerome’s deep awareness of its applicability to the events

22 Cf. Cook, The Interpretation of the Old Testament, –.

 george h. van kooten

under Antiochus IV which is remarkable. In this, as we have seen, Jerome

resembles Josephus and Hippolytus before him. The challenges posed
by Porphyry’s criticism of Danielic exegesis are evident in the far more
sophisticated way in which Jerome needs to argue.
The same double application of the phrase “abomination of desolation”
to both the figure of Antiochus in the past, and to the antichrist in the
future, which we found in Hippolytus and Jerome, also occurs in a brief
passage of the latter’s contemporary Cassian (ca. ad –ca. ). Just as
Elijah prefigures both John the Baptist and Christ (see Mark :–; Mal
:– mt; :– English trans.), the “abomination of desolation” points
to both Antiochus and the antichrist, according to Cassian. These cases
demonstrate the double sense in which holy Scripture may be taken:
quale est illud, quod Helias venerit in Iohanne et iterum sit adventum
domini praecursurus, et de abominatione desolationis, quod steterit in
loco sancto per illud simulacrum Iovis quod Hierosolymis in templo posi-
tum legimus et iterum stare habeat in ecclesia per adventum Antichristi,
illa que omnia quae in evangelio sequuntur, quae et inpleta ante captiv-
itatem Hierosolymorum et in fine mundi huius intelleguntur inplenda
(Cassian, Conlationes, ., p. ).—As in this case: where Elias came in
the person of John, and is again to be the precursor of the Lord’s Advent;
and in the matter of the “Abomination of desolation” which “stood in the
holy place”, by means of that idol of Jupiter which, as we read, was placed in
the temple in Jerusalem, and which is again to stand in the Church through
the coming of antichrist, and all those things which follow in the gospel,
which we take as having been fulfilled before the captivity of Jerusalem and
still to be fulfilled at the end of this world. (Trans. E.C.S. Gibson, Nicene
and Post-Nicene Fathers)
In Cassian’s view, the abomination of desolation refers both to the statue
of Zeus erected in the Jerusalem temple under Antiochus IV, and to
the events in the church upon the arrival of the antichrist. As we have
seen, the same view on the double sense of holy Scripture is also found
in Jerome. Together with Josephus and Hippolytus, Jerome and Cassian
represent a minority view among early Jews and Christians, by holding
that the first referent of the term “abomination of desolation” remained
Antiochus’ desecration of the holy temple in Jerusalem.
 THE MOUNTAIN OF TRANSFIGURATION IN
THE NEW TESTAMENT AND IN LATER TRADITION

Ton Hilhorst

Et post dies sex assumpsit Petrum, Iacobum et Ioannem fratrem eius, et

duxit illos ad montem Thabor excelsum, ut orarent, “And after six days
he took with him Peter, James and John his brother, and led them up
the high mountain Tabor to pray.” With these words Peter Comestor, in
his Historia Scholastica, which he composed during the last years before
his death in  / , introduced the discussion of Jesus’ transfiguration
on the mountain. The sentence combines the opening sentences of the
accounts in Matt :– and Luke :–. There is, however, one foreign
element, and that is the name “Tabor” given to the mountain. In the
Synoptic Gospels the mountain has no name, and although in Peter
Comestor’s time it was universally known as Tabor, it took quite some
time before that name found acceptance. In this essay we will study how
the mountain was described before its identification with Mount Tabor,
then trace the origin and history of that identification and, finally, discuss
whether it can stand the test of criticism.1

. “The Mountain”

Our first task, then, is a review of the early Christian texts describing the
Mount of Transfiguration. However, to carry this out with the required
clarity, it seems advisable to begin with some linguistic groundwork, the
reason for which will soon become clear. What we will say about the
definite article is not exclusively valid for Greek, but also applicable to

1 In the following, the translations of the Septuagint texts are from A. Pietersma and

B.G. Wright, eds., A New English Translation of the Septuagint (New York ); the New
Testament from the Revised Standard Version; apocryphal texts from J.K. Elliott, The
Apocryphal New Testament (Oxford ). Abbreviations include AAA = R.A. Lipsius
and M. Bonnet, Acta Apostolorum Apocrypha (Leipzig – = Darmstadt );
CCSA = Corpus Christianorum: Series Apocrypha; CCSL = Corpus Christianorum:
Series Latina; CSEL = Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum; PG = Patrologia
Graeca.
 ton hilhorst

other languages having this part of speech. Nevertheless, for the sake
of brevity, we will restrict ourselves to Greek. In our examples we will
include passages with ρος, “mountain,” which is the essential word in
our inquiry.
Our observations have to do with the use or non-use of the definite
article preceding the noun at its first introduction into a text. Four
categories of such occurrences may be distinguished:

() First mention. When an object is mentioned for the first time, it
is normally unknown and therefore lacks the definite article. Once it
has been introduced, it is known and has one. Thus, “book” in Luke
: πεδGBη α*τED βιβλον . . . κα: ναπτ ξας τ βιβλον εfρεν is
initially a book, but on referring back the book. Similarly, in Mark :
ναφρει α*τοAς ες ρος CψηλGν, “mountain,” not mentioned before,
has no article, but in v.  καταβαινGντων α*τDν κ το4 ρους the same
mountain, already introduced, has one.
However, there are cases where an object on its first mention does have
the definite article. Three cases are relevant here:

() The object is introduced with an adjunct of some sort, for example,
a relative clause, Matt : κατ$ τν χρGνον kν Wκρβωσεν παρ$ τDν
μ#γων; Luke : ;γαγον α*τν 8ως φρ ος το4 ρους φ’ οf < πGλις
EhκοδGμητο α*τDν. The objects, χρGνος and ρος respectively, are not
known before but are made known here through the adjunct. There are
many other types of adjuncts, for instance a prepositional group inserted
between the article and the noun: Acts : γνετο δO μετ$ τDν ν
ΔαμασκED μαBητDν. In this passage the disciples would be unknown
without the localizing adjunct.

() The object is knowable from the context, for example, < χερ in Acts
: τGτε % Πα4λος κτενας τν χε?ρα πελογε?το, where of course
the hand of the subject of the sentence is meant, or Acts : FWτ7σατο
παρ’ α*το4 πιστολ$ς ες Δαμασκν πρς τ$ς συναγωγ#ς, where the
synagogues to be found there are meant. In these cases it is possible to
rewrite the sentence so as to make them belong to category (): τGτε
% Πα4λος κτενας τν χε?ρα α*το4 πελογε?το and FWτ7σατο παρ’
α*το4 πιστολ$ς ες τ$ς ν ΔαμασκED συναγωγ#ς. An example with
ρος is found in Mark : Rν δO κε? πρς τED ρει γλη χορων μεγ#λη
βοσκομνη. Here, the rephrasing might run Rν δO πρς τED κε? ρει
γλη χορων μεγ#λη βοσκομνη.
 the mountain of transfiguration 

() The object is known because, for the addressee, it has a unique
status in its class. Thus, in John : =να < γραφ πληρωBFI, the noun
clearly denotes Scripture, not just anything written. To mention a modern
example, although there are many planets, hearing about “the planet” we
spontaneously think of the earth. In such cases we can use the designation
without introducing or defining the object. “We,” however, does not
simply mean the human race generally: the addressee needs to be an
insider (the insiders may be many or few). So in this category, which we
may simply define as “a common name used as if it were a proper name,”
where the article is used without the noun having been introduced before
or being evident from the context, the meaning is clear only to those
who are in the know. For the sake of convenience, we will refer to this
category in terms of insider use.2 It will be clear that in a given text such
an expression will at every occurrence denote the same object. Just to
give an example from Dutch literature, in a novel by Willem van Toorn
entitled The River,3 the river referred to is the Waal, but its name is never
mentioned in the book. It would be unthinkable, however, for “the river”
to denote the Waal at one time and a different river at another (unless
duly introduced).
A similar state of affairs occurs in the canonical Gospels, where in a
number of places “the mountain,” τ ρος, is mentioned. The essential
thing is that the mountain in question is designated in this way at its first
mention without it being possible to class its use there under category
(: the object is knowable from the context). Thus, the closing verses
of Matthew  describe Jesus’ travels throughout Galilee, his teaching in
the synagogues, his healings and his being followed by crowds “from
Galilee and the Decapolis and Jerusalem and Judea and from beyond the
Jordan.” Subsequently, out of the blue we read : νβη ες τ ρος, κα:
καBσαντος α*το4 προσIλBον α*τED ο' μαBητα: α*το4. It is impossible
to know from the context exactly where Jesus is, so it is impossible to
reduce the passage to category (). Obviously we have a mountain here
that has the designation “the mountain” almost as a proper name, and
the readers are supposed to know which mountain is meant. Just like the
river in Willem van Toorn’s novel, unless there are clear indications to the

2 It is customary to speak of “the idea of κατ5 ξοχ7ν ‘par excellence’ ” (F.W. Danker,

A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature [d
ed.; Chicago ], s.v. %, <, τG aα), cf. G. Mussies, The Morphology of Koine Greek as
Used in the Apocalypse of St. John (Leiden ), – (“the aspect ‘par excellence’ ”).
3 Willem van Toorn, De rivier (Amsterdam ).
 ton hilhorst

contrary, “the mountain” is always the same mountain. This use is found
rather frequently in the Gospels. The passages are the following:

Matt : νβη ες τ ρος, κα: καBσαντος α*το4 προσIλBαν α*τED
ο' μαBητα: α*το4.
Matt : καταβ#ντος δO α*το4 π το4 ρους Wκολο Bησαν α*τED
χλοι πολλο.
Matt : πολ σας τοAς χλους νβη ες τ ρος κατ’ δαν
προσε ξασBαι.
Matt :– 29ναβ$ς ες τ ρος κ#Bητο κε?. 30κα: προσIλBον α*τED
χλοι πολλο.
Matt : κα: καταβαινGντων α*τDν κ το4 ρους.
Mark : ναβανει ες τ ρος κα: προσκαλε?ται οZς ;Bελεν α*τGς.
Mark : ποταξ#μενος α*το?ς πIλBεν ες τ ρος προσε ξασBαι.
Mark : κα: καταβαινGντων α*τDν κ το4 ρους.
Luke : γνετο δO ν τα?ς <μραις τα ταις ξελBε?ν α*τν ες τ
ρος προσε ξασBαι.
Luke : παραλαβiν Πτρον κα: . . . νβη ες τ ρος
προσε ξασBαι.
Luke : κατελBGντων α*τDν π το4 ρους.
John : νIλBεν δO ες τ ρος 5Ιησο4ς κα: κε? κ#Bητο μετ$ τDν
μαBητDν α*το4.
John : νεχρησεν π#λιν ες τ ρος α*τς μGνος.

Most students are reluctant to accept that in all of these places one and
the same mountain is meant, convinced as they are that each pericope
contains its own mountain. However, they usually leave unexplained why
at their first mention these different mountains are already called “the
mountain.” What comments I have found, can be summarized as follows.
Paul Wilhelm Schmiedel, in his thorough, if unfortunately unfinished
re-editing of Winer’s New Testament grammar, is of the opinion that
“each time τ ρος can denote the mountain which each time is in the
neighbourhood and the article does not prove that evangelical history
knows only one single, ideal or schematic mountain that is locatable
nowhere, as a counterpart to Sinai.”4 So he classifies the passages in terms

4 G.B. Winer and P.W. Schmiedel, Grammatik des neutestamentlichen Sprachidioms

(th ed.; Göttingen ), : “Deshalb kann auch τ ρος stets . . . den jedesmal in
der Nähe befindlichen Berg bezeichnen und der Artikel beweist nicht, dass die evan-
gelische Geschichte nur einen einzigen idealen oder schematischen, nirgends zu loca-
lisirenden Berg als Gegenbild des Sinai kenne.” T. Zahn, Das Evangelium des Matthäus
(th ed.; Kommentar zum Neuen Testament ; Leipzig ), –, thinks we have
an idiomatic wording here, not a clumsy translation, but he at least speaks of surprise (“so
befremdet der Artikel von τ ρος hier noch mehr”) and carelessness (“Nachlässigkeit”).
 the mountain of transfiguration 

of our category (): objects knowable from the situation, “den jedesmal
in der Nähe befindlichen Berg.” However, the reader can check that this
is incorrect, for in several of the passages, including Matt : and Luke
:, the articular ρος appears for the first time, and nothing makes
us expect any particular mountain.5 In the remaining passages one may
surmise that “the mountain” is a mountain (or mountain slope) near the
northern shore of the Sea of Galilee, but the topographical indications
provided by the Gospels are rather vague and they do not alter the fact
that, from a linguistic point of view, the same mountain is meant each
time.
Some scholars have recourse to the explanation that we are here deal-
ing with a Semitism. Nigel Turner puts it this way: “sometimes Hebrew
idiom will influence the Greek writers towards a needless insertion of the
article, reflecting the emphatic state in which a noun is made more defi-
nite in order to denote a special person or object.” His examples include
Matt : “to the mountain (add. to Mk).”6 However, “making a noun
more definite in order to denote a special person or object” seems to be
just the same as employing the insider use, category (), which is not a
Semitism at all. Earlier, Erich Klostermann considered that the definite
article in Mark :; :; : and : D was “perhaps” a Semitism, but
his passages are heterogeneous and he does not expand on the question.7
In relation to his first example, Mark : (τ ρος), the same comment
is valid as that for Turner: we should not operate with Semitisms if the
use can be regarded as normal Greek.
Finally, there is an endeavour to explain the use of the article with τ
ρος by assuming that the noun does not denote an individual moun-
tain but the mountains, the highlands, “das Gebirge” in German. Thus,

5 For N. Turner, Syntax (vol.  of A Grammar of New Testament Greek; Edinburgh

), , in Matt : τ ρος is “that great hill which stood like a throne behind the
sea (Zerwick § ),” but nothing in the preceding part of Matthew points to that. As for
Zerwick, he begins by admitting that the mountain could be that mountain known as
that where the sermon on the mountain was held, in other words, that we have here the
insider use, cf. M. Zerwick, Graecitas biblica Novi Testamenti exemplis illustratur (th ed.;
Scripta Pontificii Instituti Biblici ; Rome ), –.
6 N. Turner, Style (vol.  of A Grammar of New Testament Greek; Edinburgh ),

.
7 E. Klostermann, Das Markusevangelium (th ed.; HNT ; Tübingen ),  (Mark

: D mentioned there means the Codex Bezae reading το?ς γεωργο?ς, not listed in the
apparatus criticus of Nestle-Aland). It is possibly by pleading a Semitism that the German
Einheitsübersetzung virtually everywhere renders τ ρος by “ein Berg,” an all too easy
way of ironing out the awkward definite article.
 ton hilhorst

Werner Foerster states: “the transl. ‘he went up into the mountains’ is
linguistically just as good as ‘he went up the mountain.’ ”8 This is cor-
rect on the level of the sentence, for ρος may have that meaning, but
it is hardly defensible as soon as we consider the context of the τ ρος
passages. Terence Donaldson, in his monograph Jesus on the Mountain,
rejects Foerster’s proposal for three reasons, which he summarizes as fol-
lows: “Thus, although ‘to the hills’ is a possible translation of ες τ ρος,
it is highly unlikely in the Synoptics, where this meaning is usually con-
veyed by the plural ες τ$ ρη, is nowhere contextually required, and,
in fact, is excluded in at least some of its occurrences.” These occurrences
include those referring to the individual mountain of the transfiguration,
and Matt :, where the expression “also most probably refers to a sin-
gle mountain appointed as a rendezvous.”9
So, the linguistic facts continue to compel us to assume that “the
mountain” is a definite mountain, known to original readers and, we
may assume, current in the milieu in which the Gospels came into being.
The contexts suggest that “the mountain” is situated in Galilee, probably
north of the Sea of Galilee. It may not be superfluous to point out that
our conclusion concerning “the mountain” does not cover the Mountain
of Commission in Matt :. There, τ ρος is defined by a relative
clause, so it does not fall under our category (), the insider use, but under
category ().10

. The Texts

Against this background let us now consider the passages that introduce
the transfiguration accounts.
() Mark : παραλαμβ#νει % 5Ιησο4ς τν Πτρον κα: τν 5Ι#κωβον κα:
τν 5Ιω#ννην κα: ναφρει α*τοAς ες ρος Cψηλν κατ’ δαν μGνους.
κα: μετεμορφBη
μπροσBεν α*τDν, “Jesus took with him Peter and
James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart by themselves;
and he was transfigured before them.”

8 W. Foerster, “ρος,” TDNT :– at . For a comment on the English

rendering “mountains” in the plural cf. W. Havers, Handbuch der erklärenden Syntax
(Indogermanische Bibliothek ..; Heidelberg ), .
9 T.L. Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain: A Study in Matthean Theology (JSNTSup ;

Sheffield ), .

10 Therefore the passage should be deleted from the list in Donaldson, Jesus on the

Mountain,  n. .

 the mountain of transfiguration 

The ρος is a mountain, conspicuous for its altitude. It has not been
mentioned earlier. It is different from the one called “the mountain”
that had already been mentioned twice, in : and :. If it were the
same, the definite article would have been used, as the object indicated
would have already been introduced to the reader. In addition, the moun-
tain called “the mountain” is nowhere said to be high. In v. , where
the descent from the mountain is mentioned, the word is used articu-
larly: καταβαινGντων α*τDν κ το4 ρους, in accordance with category
().
() Matt :– 1 παραλαμβ#νει % 5Ιησο4ς τν Πτρον κα: 5Ι#κωβον κα:
5Ιω#ννην τν δελφν α*το4 κα: ναφρει α*τοAς ες ρος Cψηλν κατ’
δαν. 2 κα: μετεμορφBη
μπροσBεν α*τDν, “1 Jesus took with him Peter
and James and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain apart.
2And he was transfigured before them.”
Matthew follows Mark almost exactly, and here again, when referring
back to the mountain in v.  the articular ρος is used. As in Mark,
the mountain is different from the one called “the mountain” which had
already been mentioned twice, in : and :. So both evangelists
suggest that the mountain on which Jesus was transfigured was different
from the remaining mountains mentioned in their Gospels, especially
from the one called “the mountain.”
() Luke :– παραλαβiν Πτρον κα: 5Ιω#ννην κα: 5Ι#κωβον
28

νβη ες τ ρος προσε ξασBαι. 29 κα: γνετο ν τED προσε χεσBαι
α*τν τ ε>δος το4 προσπου α*το4 8τερον, “28 he took with him Peter
and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29 And as he
was praying, the appearance of his countenance was altered.”
Luke, on the other hand, rephrases the description found in Mark. Here,
the mountain is the mountain, not a hitherto unknown one, and no
specific detail, for example, its height, is mentioned. So the mountain
here is the same as the one denoted before by “the mountain,” in :.
Furthermore, unlike the account in Mark and Matthew, the intention
with which Jesus climbs the mountain is mentioned. He goes up to
pray, and it is while praying that his transfiguration takes place. Also in
this respect, our passage agrees with :, where Jesus “went out to the
mountain to pray.”11

11 Cf. K.L. Schmidt, Der Rahmen der Geschichte Jesu (Berlin  = Darmstadt ),

. On the Lucan theme of praying see Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain,  n.  and
 n. .
 ton hilhorst

()  Peter :– Ο* γ$ρ σεσοφισμνοις μ Bοις ξακολουB7σαν-

16

τες γνωρσαμεν Cμ?ν τν το4 κυρου <μDν 5Ιησο4 Χριστο4 δ ναμιν
κα: παρουσαν λλ’ πGπται γενηBντες τIς κενου μεγαλειGτητος.
17 λαβiν γ$ρ παρ$ Bεο4 πατρς τιμν κα: δGξαν φωνIς νεχBεσης

α*τED τοιNσδε Cπ τIς μεγαλοπρεπο4ς δGξης· % υ'Gς μου % γαπητGς

μου οfτGς στιν ες kν γi ε*δGκησα, 18 κα: τα την τν φωνν <με?ς
Wκο σαμεν ξ ο*ρανο4 νεχBε?σαν σAν α*τED ντες ν τED bγEω ρει,
“16 For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known
to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were
eyewitnesses of his majesty. 17 For when he received honour and glory
from God the Father and the voice was borne to him by the Majestic
Glory, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased,’ 18 we heard
this voice borne from heaven, for we were with him on the holy moun-
tain.”

 Peter, the latest book of the New Testament, as it is sometimes called, is

generally dated to the first half of the second century. Indeed, it shows
signs of being written in a time when Christianity had undergone a
number of developments, such as the formation and circulation of a
corpus of Pauline letters ( Pet :–). The author, who poses as the
apostle Peter, in :– alludes to the event of the transfiguration. The
“voice” he mentions is the heavenly one we know from the Synoptics;
its wording in verse , % υ'Gς μου % γαπητGς μου οfτGς στιν ες kν
γi ε*δGκησα, is most reminiscent of Matt :, οfτGς στιν % υ'Gς μου
% γαπητGς, ν Eg ε*δGκησα, and to a lesser extent of Mark :, οfτGς
στιν % υ'Gς μου % γαπητGς, and Luke :, οfτGς στιν % υ'Gς μου %
κλελεγμνος.
The author calls the mountain neither “a high mountain,” as in Mark
and Matthew, nor “the mountain,” as in Luke, but “the holy mountain,”
τ Sγιον ρος. It is tempting to see here Psalm  at work, whose vv.  and
 in the lxx read:
6 γi δO κατεστ#Bην βασιλεAς Cπ’ α*το4 π: Σιiν ρος τ Sγιον α*το4,
7διαγγλλων τ πρGσταγμα κυρουY Κ ριος ε>πεν πρGς μεY Υ'Gς μου ε>
σ , γi σ7μερον γεγννηκ# σε. “6 But I was established king by him, on
Sion, his holy mountain, 7 by proclaiming the Lord’s ordinance: The Lord
said to me, ‘My son you are; today I have begotten you.’ ”

Here we have both the phrase “the holy mountain” and the heavenly
voice. For Richard Bauckham, in his commentary on  Peter, the phrase
“holy mountain” here is “a deliberate echo of Ps : lxx,” and after
much deliberation he comes to the conclusion that “the evidence is
strongly in favor of the view that in his account of the transfiguration
the author of  Peter was not dependent on the synoptic Gospels but
 the mountain of transfiguration 

on independent tradition, which could perhaps be his own knowledge

of Peter’s preaching, or else the oral traditions current in the Roman
church.”12
I find it hard to agree fully with these views. Bauckham may be right
that in the Old Testament the expression “the holy mountain” is always
said of Mount Zion, although in Ezek : it is disputed whether we
should render “the holy mountain of the gods” or “the holy mountain
of God.” However, unlike  Pet :, the Old Testament virtually every-
where combines “the mountain” with a reference to God: “my/your/his
holy mountain,” “the mountain of God’s, my/your/his holiness.” The only
place where we find τ ρος τ Sγιον devoid of a pronoun or of the
genitive Bεο4 in the Septuagint is  Macc :, τεB7τω ν τED ρει τED
bγEω ν τGπEω πισ7μEω, “let it (sc. the copy) be put on the holy moun-
tain in a prominent place” and, in the Old Testament pseudepigrapha,
 En. : κκε? τεBαμαι ρος Sγιον, “and there I saw a holy moun-
tain;” in both places the Temple Mount is meant. Furthermore, even if
the Old Testament does not give them the title, there were no doubt
other sacred mountains, preeminently of course Mount Sinai/Horeb, “the
mountain of God,” as Exod : and  Kgs : call it. Also, the use of
“holy mountain” for Mount Zion did not mean that other mountains
could never be designated in that way. In later periods, the Samaritans
had their Mount Gerizim, and in Christianity Mount Athos and Mount
Ararat come to mind. A mountain reputed to have been the scene of
some supernatural event certainly qualified to receive this title, and Jesus’
transfiguration no doubt could count as such. J. Willemze in this regard
aptly quotes Exod :: “Put off your shoes from your feet, for the place
on which you are standing is holy ground.” The ground is called holy
because of the presence of the Lord.13 So it seems quite possible that the
author of  Peter took a new step in qualifying the Mount of Transfig-
uration as “the holy mountain.”14 He had, we might say, free play to do
so, inasmuch as nowhere in the New Testament except in the passage

12 R. Bauckham, Jude.  Peter (WBC ; Waco, Tex. ),  and .
13 J. Willemze, De Tweede Brief van Petrus. De Brieven van Johannes. De Brief van Judas
(d ed.; Tekst en uitleg; Groningen ), .
14 Cf. A. Vögtle, Der Judasbrief/Der . Petrusbrief (EKKNT ; Solothurn ), :

“Wahrscheinlich hat der Vf. von sich aus [italics mine] den Berg durch “heilig” als Stätte
göttlicher Offenbarung qualifiziert.” The view has been voiced earlier, cf. Bauckham, Jude.
 Peter, : “Some (Bigg, James, Green) think that the phrase is used simply because the
theophany made the place holy.”
 ton hilhorst

under discussion and nowhere in the Apostolic Fathers does the phrase
τ Sγιον ρος occur, either to denote Mount Zion or another moun-
tain.
Should Bauckham be right, then one might conclude that “the holy
mountain” in  Pet : means Mount Zion. Bauckham does not draw
that conclusion. However, he does challenge  Peter’s dependency on
the Synoptic accounts, a dependency that would preclude the equation
with Mount Zion. Although this is not the place to discuss Bauckham’s
considerations at length, two arguments convince me to hold that  Peter
is dependent on the Synoptics. First, generally speaking, by the time
 Peter was written, the Synoptic Gospels had an established position, so
a Christian of the early decades of the second century may well have been
familiar with them or at least with one of them. Second, the agreement
between the words of the divine voice in  Pet : and Matt :—
especially the inclusion, missing in Mark and Luke, of the relative clause,
ες kν γi ε*δGκησα in  Peter, and ν Eg ε*δGκησα in Matthew—is such
that we may even say that the Gospel familiar to the author was Matthew.
In comparison, the variations—ες kν vs ν Eg, the mention vs. omission
of γ—are immaterial.
In conclusion, to my mind the author of  Peter takes his mountain
from the Synoptics, especially Matthew, his innovation being that he
assigns it the title of “the holy mountain” because of the holiness it derives
from Jesus’ transfiguration.
() Ethiopic Apocalypse of Peter  “And my Lord Jesus Christ, our King,
said to me, ‘Let us go to the holy mountain.’ And his disciples went with
him, praying.”
Greek Apocalypse of Peter – 4 κα: προσBε:ς % κ ριος
φηY nΑγωμεν ες τ
ρος, ε*ξμεBα. 5 περχGμενοι δO μετ5 α*το4 <με?ς ο' δδεκα μαBητα,
“4 And the Lord continued and said, ‘Let us go to the mountain and pray.’
5 And going with him, we the twelve disciples.”

The apocryphal Apocalypse of Peter, written before ad , is depen-

dent on  Peter.15 The Apocalypse has been preserved in an Ethiopic
version and, fragmentarily, in Greek. The Greek passage just quoted
is from the most extensive Greek portion, that of the Akhmim frag-
ment. That fragment in general reflects the original text less well than
the Ethiopic version.16 It is hard to say whether this is also the case for

15 R. Bauckham, The Fate of the Dead (NovTSup ; Leiden ), .
16 Bauckham, Fate of the Dead, –.
 the mountain of transfiguration 

the passage we are concerned with. Perhaps we should leave the ques-
tion undecided and just comment upon the statement in both versions.
They agree in showing a “Lucan” element—the praying referred to in
Luke :–. They again agree in not limiting the number of Jesus’
companions to Peter, James, and John, but allowing “the (twelve) dis-
ciples” to go with him. However, they disagree in their designation of
the mountain. The Greek version calls it “the mountain,” τ ρος. At
first sight, this is again in accordance with Luke, but whereas in Luke
we had to classify τ ρος as an instance of “the mountain” called thus
from its first mention, here the author might well have used the title
as a reference to the mountain described by Mark and Matthew as “a
high mountain” now widely known as the Mount of Transfiguration. The
Ethiopic, however, has the expression we saw in  Peter: “the holy moun-
tain.”
What idea does the author have of the mountain? Dennis D. Buchholz,
in his edition and study of the Ethiopic text, has the following comment:
“If we take seriously the setting in : where Jesus is seated on the Mt.
of Olives, the holy mountain may be the temple mount (cf. Mk :).
Otherwise we do not know which mountain is meant.”17 Richard Bauck-
ham is much more decided: “in Apocalypse of Peter :, Jesus is propos-
ing that he and the disciples cross the Kidron valley from the Mount of
Olives to the Temple mount.”18 However, what if we refrain from “taking
seriously” the setting on the Mount of Olives, interpreting that setting as
something symbolic rather than as topographical information? Then the
“holy mountain” of ch.  could well be the same as the mountain of the
same name in  Pet :, which in turn is, we concluded, the same as the
mountain of the Synoptic accounts.
() Acts of John  (CCSA . / )
(λλοτε δ ποτε παραλαμβ#νει με κα: 5Ι#κωβον κα: Πτρον ες τ
ρος που Rν α*τED
Bος ε\χεσBαι, κα: εUδομεν  ν α*τED φDς τοιο4-
τον %πο?ον ο*κ
στιν δυνατν νBρπEω χρωμνEω λGγEω φBαρτED κφ-
ρειν οoον Rν. π#λιν %μοως ν#γει <μNς τοAς τρε?ς ες τ ρος λγωνY
nΕλBατε σAν μο. 3Ημε?ς δO π#λιν πορε BημενY κα: %ρDμεν α*τν π
διαστ7ματος ε*χGμενον,
“At another time he took me and James and Peter to the mountain, where
he used to pray, and we beheld such a light on him that it is not possible

17 D.D. Buchholz, Your Eyes Will Be Opened: A Study of the Greek (Ethiopic) Apocalypse

of Peter (SBLDS ; Atlanta, Ga., ), .

18 Bauckham, Fate of the Dead, .
 ton hilhorst

for a man who uses mortal speech to describe what it was like. Again in
a similar way he led us three up to the mountain saying, ‘Come with me.’
And we went again and saw him at a distance praying.”
The Acts of John, usually dated to the second half of the second century,
but according to Pieter Lalleman written as early as the second quarter
of that century,19 seem to be inspired here by the Synoptic accounts,
with the accent on Jesus’ prayer pointing to Luke. In accordance with the
Synoptics, Jesus’ company is restricted to the three apostles, but John is
mentioned first, as he is speaking himself. Directly after the words quoted
here, a second transfiguration of Jesus is pictured.
() Acts of Peter  (AAA .)
dominus noster uolens me maiestatem suam uidere in monte sancto,
uidens autem luminis splendorem eius cum filiis Zebedei, caecidi tam-
quam mortuus,
“our Lord wished to let me see his majesty on the holy mountain; but when
I with the sons of Zebedee saw his brightness I fell at his feet as dead.”
The Acts of Peter, written in the closing decades of the second century,
seem to be inspired here by  Pet :–. The sight of Jesus’ maiestas
recalls v. , πGπται γενηBντες τIς κενου μεγαλειGτητος, and the
phrase mons sanctus echoes τ Sγιον ρος of v. . Peter’s mention that
he was with the sons of Zebedee is in conformity with the Synoptic
Gospels.
() Acts of Thomas  (AAA ..)
οf τ σDμα νBρπινον κα: τα?ς χερσ:ν ψηλαφ7σαμεν, τν δO Bαν
εUδομεν νηλλοιωμνην το?ς <μετροις φBαλμο?ς, τν δO τ πον α*το4
τν ο*ρ#νιον ν τED ρει δε?ν ο*κ Wδυν7Bημεν,
“whose human body we handled with our hands, whose transfigured
appearance we saw with our eyes, whose heavenly form, however, we could
not see on the mountain.”
Our latest testimony (the Acts of Thomas are dated to the third century) in
this passing reference to the transfiguration once more uses the articular
expression τ ρος. The number of apostles accompanying Jesus is left
unmentioned.

19 P.J. Lalleman, The Acts of John (Studies on the Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles ;

Louvain ), .

 the mountain of transfiguration 

. Tabor

Among the many geographical names we read in the Old Testament is

the name Tabor (Hebrew øåáú, Greek Θαβρ or 5Ιταβ ριον),20 for the
most part referring to the prominent mountain southwest of the Sea
of Galilee.21 If the unnamed mountain in Deut : is Mount Tabor,
it was a cultic centre of the tribes of Zebulun and Issachar, and Hos
:, although in a condemning tone, also alludes to a cultic practice on
the mountain. Psalm : and Jer : mention it among the most
important mountains of the country. Josephus repeatedly refers to the
mountain, using the name 5Ιταβ ριον. In the New Testament, the name
Tabor does not occur, but from the second century onward the mountain
is associated in various ways with the life of Jesus.
Thus, Mount Tabor seems to have been equated with the “very high
mountain” where, according to Matt :, the third temptation of Jesus
by the devil took place. The Gospel according to the Hebrews, written in
the first half of the second century, in a fragment preserved in Origen,
Comm. Jo. ., adduces Jesus speaking as follows: nΑρτι
λαβ με <
μ7τηρ μου, τ Sγιον πνε4μα, ν μιKN τDν τριχDν μου κα: π7νεγκ
με ες τ ρος τ μγα Θαβρ, “My Mother, the Holy Spirit, took me
just now by one of my hairs and carried me off to the great Mount
Tabor.”22 The statement is generally regarded as referring to an account
of Jesus’ temptation by the devil. However, what was done by the devil
in Matthew’s account, is here the Holy Spirit’s action. The aim is the
same in both cases, to test Jesus, but whereas the devil counts on Jesus
succumbing, the Holy Spirit expects him to hold his own. Arnold Meyer,
who voiced this view over a century ago, compared this situation with
 Sam : and  Chron :, where David’s temptation is attributed

20 In the lxx we find Θαβρ in Josh :; Judg :, , ;  Kgdms (mt  Samuel)
:;  Chron : (mt :); Ps : (mt :) and 5Ιταβ ριον in Hos : and Jer :
(mt :).
21 See ABD :– s.vv. “Tabor,” “Tabor, Mount,” and “Tabor, Oak of.” For addi-

tional information on Mount Tabor see C.W. Wilson, “Tabor, Mount,” A Dictionary of
the Bible :–; J. Murphy-O’Connor, The Holy Land (th ed.; Oxford Archaeologi-
cal Guides; Oxford ), –; G. Mussies, “Tabor,” DDD (d ed.), –; V. Fritz,
“Tabor,” TRE :–.
22 Origen also has the quotation in Hom. Jer. ., minus “by one of my hairs” (and

writing Ταβρ). Jerome cites it no less than three times, but without the last part which
mentions Mount Tabor; see A.F.J. Klijn, Jewish-Christian Gospel Tradition (VCSup ;
Leiden ), –.
 ton hilhorst

to God and to Satan, respectively.23 In the fourth century, Epiphanius,

Refutation of All Heresies .., alludes to a comparable tradition: after
the devil had set Jesus on the pinnacle of the Temple, π 3Ιεροσολ μων
νενεχBIναι ες ρος Cψηλν λαν, περ παρ$ πολλο?ς λγεται ε>ναι τ
Θαβiρ ρος, k Jρμηνε εται 5Ιταβ ριονY το4το δ στιν ν τFI ΓαλιλαKα,
“he had been borne from Jerusalem to a very high mountain which many
say is Mt. Tabor, or Itabyrion in translation; this mountain is in Galilee”
(trans. F. Williams). Here, in accordance with the canonical Gospels, the
transference of Jesus to the mountain is performed by the devil, but the
“very high mountain” of Matt : is Mount Tabor, as it is in the Gospel
according to the Hebrews.
Then Mount Tabor is taken as “the mountain to which Jesus had
directed them,” that is, the eleven disciples (Matt :). We find this
tradition in a marginal gloss to the Matthew passage in the ninth or tenth-
century New Testament MS ,24 but it is also in the Topography of the
Holy Land written in the sixth century by Theodosius, who concludes
his chapter  with the sentence De Nazareth usque Itabyrium milia VII;
ibi dominus post resurrectionem apostolis apparuit, “From Nazareth it is
seven miles to Itabyrium; there the Lord appeared to the apostles after his
resurrection.”25 Thirdly we find it in a Georgian text of about ad .26
This tradition kept alive in later times. Thus, in the thirteenth century
Jacobus de Voragine states in his Golden Legend .–: “The eighth
time Jesus appeared was to the disciples on Mount Tabor, as in the last

23 A. Meyer in Handbuch zu den Neutestamentlichen Apokryphen (ed. E. Hennecke;

Tübingen ), . For a discussion of the fragment see T. Zahn, Geschichte des neutesta-
mentlichen Kanons (Erlangen ), .:–; M. Erbetta, Gli apocrifi del Nuovo Tes-
tamento (Turin ), .:–; P. Vielhauer† and G. Strecker in Neutestamentliche
Apokryphen in deutscher Übersetzung (ed. W. Schneemelcher; Tübingen ), :–
; Klijn, Jewish-Christian Gospel Tradition, –.
24 Klijn, Jewish-Christian Gospel Tradition,  n. .
25 Itabyrium is a conjecture by the editor, Paul Geyer. Unfortunately his critical appa-

ratus ad loc. in CSEL  p. , reprinted in CCSL  p.  is not very clear, but it is
plausible enough that Thabor or Itabyrium is meant.
26 Dschawachoff and Harnack, “Das Martyrium des heiligen Eustatius von Mzchetha:

Aus dem Georgischen übersetzt,” Sitzungsberichte der königlich Preussischen Akademie

der Wissenschaften zu Berlin , – at : “An dem dritten Tage sehr früh kam
ein Engel vom Himmel herab und wälzte den Stein von dem Grabe, und Christus erstand
auf und kam aus dem Grabe heraus und zeigte sich zwei Jüngern und Maria Magdalena
und den andern Weibern, und Christus sprach zu ihnen: ‘Verkündiget es meinen Jüngern:
gehet gen Galiläa auf den Thabor, und dort werden sie mich sehen.’ Die zwölf Jünger
gingen mit grossem Frohmuth auf den Berg Thabor, und sie sahen Ihn, grüssten Ihn und
küssten seine heiligen Füsse.” I owe this reference to B.M. Metzger, New Testament Studies:
Philological, Versional, and Patristic (NTTS ; Leiden ), .
 the mountain of transfiguration 

chapter of Matthew: here the contemplatives are signified, because Christ

was transfigured on that mountain” (trans. W.G. Ryan).
This last quotation, which combines Matt : and :, brings us
to the most successful association of Mount Tabor with the life of Jesus,
namely its identification with the mountain of his transfiguration. Just
when this view arose, however, is rather hard to establish. At first sight,
it was held as early as the decades around ad , for a scholium on
Ps : lxx (: mt) by Origen (ca. –ca. ) reads: Θαβiρ
δ στι τ ρος τIς Γαλιλαας φ5 οf μετεμορφBη ΧριστGς, “Tabor
is the mountain in Galilee on which Christ was transfigured.”27 The
terse language of the statement suggests an accepted idea. Unfortunately,
however, we cannot be sure, to say the least, that it stemmed from his pen,
as the chains in which it has come down to us contain many scholia of
later authors under the name of Origen. There is only one other passage
in Origen’s œuvre that mentions the name Θαβρ, namely the one just
quoted on the Gospel according to the Hebrews. There, Origen did not
feel impelled to comment on it, for instance to call attention to the fact
that in the canonical Gospels Mount Tabor is not the mountain of Jesus’
temptation but of his transfiguration, as one might expect if he had
the latter view. Otherwise, in none of the passages where he explicitly
refers to the transfiguration (Comm. Matt. .–; Cels. .,; .;
.,; Comm. Rom. .) he identifies the Mount of Transfiguration
with Mount Tabor. In view of this evidence, even though it constitutes
only an argumentum e silentio, the conclusion is hardly escapable that
the scholium cannot stem from Origen.28
There is also testimony, the authenticity of which is undisputed, but
which offers difficulties of interpretation. Eusebius of Caesarea (ca. –
ca. ), in his Commentary on the Psalms, on the words of Ps :

27 Preserved in Selecta in Psalmos (PG .D) and Fragmenta in Psalmos (J.B. Pitra,

Analecta sacra spicilegio Solesmensi parata [Venice  = Farnborough ], :). In
the former collection, the form μεμορφBη for μετεμορφBη in the edition by C. de
La Rue (Paris ), :, perpetuated in Migne and hence in the Thesaurus Linguae
Graecae database, must be a printer’s error. For information on the Tabor tradition cf.
also Zahn, Das Evangelium des Matthäus, ; M.-J. Lagrange, Évangile selon Saint Marc
(th ed.; Études Bibliques; Paris ), .
28 Emanuela Prinzivalli and, via her, Calogero Cerami, who is completing a thesis on

the exegetical tradition of the transfiguration, kindly gave their views on the matter and
provided the relevant Origenian passages. For the attribution of a good deal of Origen’s
Selecta in Psalmos to Evagrius Ponticus (–) see H.U. von Balthasar, “Die Hiera des
Evagrius,” ZKT  () –, –, and M.-J. Rondeau, “Le commentaire sur les
Psaumes d’Evagre le Pontique,” OCP  () –.
 ton hilhorst

lxx Θαβiρ κα: 3Ερμiν ν τED νGματ σου γαλλι#σονται, “Thabor

and Hermon will rejoice in your name,” has the following to say of the
two mountains: ο>μα γε ν το τοις το?ς ρεσι τ$ς παραδGξους το4
σωτIρος <μDν γεγονναι μεταμορφσεις, κα: τ$ς πλεους διατριβ$ς
τε σAν νBρποις πολιτε ετο, “I think that on these mountains the
miraculous transfigurations of our Saviour took place and the frequent
stays when he mixed with people.” To elucidate Eusebius’ elucidation,
I am inclined to add “respectively” to the translation, in other words,
to guess that Eusebius assigns the role of Mountain of Transfiguration
to Tabor and that of the meeting place with disciples and crowds to
Hermon, under the proviso that Hermon is here “little Hermon,” that is,
the mountain at whose foot Nain was located—Jebel Dahi as it is now
called.29 Then, to use the distinctions made in our earlier discussion,
Tabor was “a high mountain” of Mark : and Matt :, whereas Hermon
was “the mountain.” One more problem remains, and that is the plural
μεταμορφσεις, for the Gospels reckon with one transfiguration only.
Clemens Kopp suggested that the plural included Jesus’ post-resurrection
apparition to the eleven of Matt :–, but was he transfigured then?30
A much more relevant parallel may be found in the Acts of John, written
in the decades around the middle of the second century, whose ch. ,
as already mentioned, describes two transfigurations of Jesus on “the
mountain.”31
From the mid-fourth century, Christian authors take for granted the
identification of the mountain of the (single) transfiguration with Mount
Tabor. This is clear for the first time in Cyril of Jerusalem (ca. –
 / ). In a catechesis he delivered around , while dealing with
the two witnesses who stood by the Lord in the Old and in the New
Testament, he states, Catech. .: ΜωσIς Rν ν πFI τIς πτρας κα:

29 On this “little Hermon,” cf. Ps  ():; G. Dalman, Orte und Wege Jesu (Beiträge
zur Förderung christlicher Theologie .; Gütersloh  = Darmstadt ),  n. ;
C. Kopp, Die heiligen Stätten der Evangelien (Regensburg ), ; F.-M. Abel, Géogra-
phie de la Palestine (d ed.; Études Bibliques; Paris ), :; J. Wilkinson, Jerusalem
Pilgrims before the Crusades (d ed.; Warminster ),  (map) and .
30 Kopp, Die heiligen Stätten, : “Wenn Eusebius von mehreren “wunderbaren

Verwandlungen” spricht, so wird er auch an die Erscheinung des Auferstandenen vor

den Elfen auf einem Berge Galiläas denken (Mt ,–). Aber er ist sichtlich ratlos,
auf welchem der beiden Berge diese Verklärungen zu fixieren sind.” In the late Narratio
Josephi Arimathiensis  after his death Jesus goes with Joseph of Arimathea and the good
thief to Galilee, where he is transfigured before them, although not on a mountain.
31 On which see Lalleman, The Acts of John, –.
 the mountain of transfiguration 

5Ηλας Rν ν πFI τIς πτραςY κε?νοι μεταμορφουμνEω συμπαρGντες

ν ρει Θαβiρ
λεγον το?ς μαBητα?ς τν
ξοδον qν
μελλε πληρο4ν ν
3Ιερουσαλ7μ, “Moses was in the cleft of the rock [Exod :] and Elijah
was in the cleft of the rock [ Kgs :, ]. They were present with him
when he was transfigured on Mount Tabor and told the disciples of his
departure, which he was to accomplish in Jerusalem [Luke :].” More
texts could be quoted, and they multiply in Byzantine times, for example,
the apocryphal Apocalypse of John, possibly fifth century, which begins
with the words: Μετ$ τν ν#ληψιν το4 κυρου <μDν 5Ιησο4 Χριστο4
παρεγενGμην γi 5Ιω#ννης μGνος π: τ ρος τ Θαβρ,
νBα κα: τν
(χραντον α*το4 BεGτητα Cπδειξεν <μ?ν, “After the assumption of our
Lord Jesus Christ I came alone to Mount Tabor, where he showed us his
undefiled divinity.”
In the Latin-speaking world the same opinion became known. The
first statement on the place of the transfiguration, the Itinerarium Bur-
digalense, written in , voices the curious idea that it was the Mount
of Olives: Inde non longe est monticulus, ubi dominus ascendit orare et
apparuit illic Moyses et Helias, quando Petrum et Iohannem secum duxit,
“Not far from there (viz. from the Constantinian basilica on the Mount
of Olives) is the little mountain, where the Lord went up for prayer, and
Moyses and Elijah appeared there, when he took with him Peter and
John.” What can have induced the anonymous writer, or his informant,32
to locate the event there? In Matt :, the risen Jesus orders the two
Marys to tell the disciples to go to Galilee in order to see him. Indeed,
the disciples go to Galilee, but as this is a long journey, it was supposed
that here “Galilee” was not the region in Northern Palestine, but a loca-
tion near Jerusalem. If, then, the mountain where Jesus appeared to his
disciples in Matt : was the same as that of the transfiguration, an
equation we find also elsewhere, then the transfiguration took place near
Jerusalem, on the Mount of Olives. Seventy years later, two safe witnesses
to the mountain of the transfiguration being Mount Tabor are provided
by Jerome (ca. –). In his Epistula . (CSEL .) we read:
pergemus ad Itabyrium et ad tabernacula saluatoris, non, ut Petrus quon-
dam uoluit, eum cum Moysi et Helia, sed cum patre cernemus et spir-
itu sancto, “We will go to Mount Itabyrium and the booths of the Sav-
iour, and we will behold him not, as Peter once wished, with Moses and

32 Cf. E.D. Hunt, Holy Land Pilgrimage in the Later Roman Empire ad – (Oxford

), .
 ton hilhorst

Elijah, but with the Father and the Holy Spirit.”33 Also in his Epitaphium
Paulae (Epist. )  (CSEL .), narrating Paula’s first exploration
of the Holy Land, he states that she scandebat montem Thabor, in quo
transfiguratus est dominus, “climbed Mount Tabor, on which the Lord
was transfigurated.” About , the Piacenza Pilgrim (wrongly called
Antoninus Placentinus) mentions the existence of three basilicas on the
mountain: De Nazareth uenimus in Tabor monte, qui mons exurgit in
medio campestri, terra uiua, tenens circuitum milia sex, ascensum milia
tria, susum contra unum miliarium planus; in quo sunt tres basilicas, ubi
dictum est a discipulo: “Faciamus hic tria tabernacula,” “From Nazareth
we went to Mount Tabor, a mountain rising out of a plain. It is formed of
good soil, and it is six miles round the foot of it, and three miles to climb.
When you arrive at the top there is a level place a mile in length, with
three basilicas, in the place where one of the disciples said ‘Let us make
three tabernacles’ [Matt :]” (trans. J. Wilkinson).
There is no need to continue quoting instances where the mountain
of Jesus’ transfiguration bears the name Tabor—suffice it to say that
these instances grow more and more numerous as time progresses, in
Byzantine texts as well as in those of Western Christianity.34 A new stage
is reached with the Reformation: whereas Protestants use the princi-
ple of sola Scriptura and take the mountain for what it is in the New
Testament—nameless—Catholics maintain the tradition and persist in
calling the mountain by its now familiar name. Thus, among Protes-
tants the awareness that the mountain was eventually given the name
Tabor is almost extinct. When I asked a friend who is a minister and,
in addition to that, an experienced patristic scholar, which mountain
was meant in the transfiguration account, after some hesitation he sug-

33 This Epistula  was ostensibly a letter of Paula and Eustochium (the “we” in the

quotation), but it is so thoroughly Hieronymian that it counts as written by him, cf.

G. Grützmacher, Hieronymus (Studien zur Geschichte der Theologie und der Kirche .;
Leipzig ), :.
34 See, for example, P. Thomsen, Loca sancta (Leipzig  = Hildesheim ), ;

Wilkinson, Jerusalem Pilgrims, , , , , , , and especially D. Baldi,
Enchiridion locorum sanctorum. Documenta S. Evangelii loca respicientia (d ed.; Jerusa-
lem ), –. Eventually, Mount Tabor received the name “Holy Mountain,” from
 Pet :, cf. Wilkinson, ibid.  n. . Two other traditions may have some connection
with the mountain’s status as the place of Jesus’ transfiguration: the fallen angels “landing”
on Mount Tabor, cf. T. Zahn, Geschichte des Neutestamentlichen Kanons (Erlangen ),
.: n. , and Melchizedek’s stay there, cf. J. Dochhorn, “Die Historia de Melchisedech
(Hist Melch)—Einführung, editorischer Vorbericht und Editiones praeliminares,” Le
Muséon  () –; also Dalman, Orte und Wege, , Kopp, Die heiligen Stätten,
–.
 the mountain of transfiguration 

gested Mount Horeb; the idea that it could be Tabor was new to him.
However, Catholic scholars tend (or should I say tended) to mention the
name Tabor as if it were used in the New Testament transfiguration narra-
tive. Thus, the Vulgate Concordance of Dutripon, while introducing the
lemma Elias, mentions the Tishbite’s presence during the transfiguration
on Mount Tabor as something obvious.35 The question could even give
rise to some suppressed mutual irritation. On the one hand, while men-
tioning that Mount Tabor traditionally was considered to be the scene of
Jesus’ transfiguration, the worthwhile travel guide of the Holy Land by
Karl Baedeker, seems to betray its Protestant inspiration by hastening to
add “chose d’autant moins admissible que du temps de J.-C. le sommet du
mont était certainement couvert de maisons.”36 Conversely, the Diction-
naire de la Bible in its article “Thabor,” while not decreeing that the moun-
tain was Mount Tabor, describes the tradition with obvious sympathy
and introduces the counterarguments with the testy words: “Cette tra-
dition séculaire est maintenant rejetée par de nombreux contradicteurs.
On soutient que . . . ”37

. Is Mount Tabor the Mountain of the Transfiguration?

Of course, the scene of Jesus’ transfiguration is not to be located on

Mount Tabor just because tradition has it, nor is it to be denied just
because the New Testament is silent on the matter. Scholarly discussions
have used other arguments. Starting from the premise that the Gospels
are referring to a real mountain in Galilee two conditions seem to be
required for Mount Tabor to be the location of the event: the mountain
should offer a place where Jesus and his three companions could be
without unwanted onlookers, for they were there “apart by themselves”
(Mark :), and the mountain should be reachable within six days (Mark
:) from Caesarea Philippi where Jesus had been before (Mark :). As

35 F.P. Dutripon, Concordantiæ Bibliorum Sacrorum Vulgatæ editionis (Paris ),

: “At non prætereundum Jesum Christum, cum transfiguratus est super montem
Thabor [italics mine] in conspectu trium Apostolorum, habuisse testes veteris Legis Eliam
et Moysen quibuscum loquebatur.” For a contemporary example, the current Roman
Catholic Lectionary of the Netherlands renders Luke : νβη ες τ ρος with “besteeg
de berg Tabor” (went up on Mount Tabor) (Lectionarium voor de zondagen: C-cyclus
[Boxtel ], ).
36 Italics mine. I quote from K. Bædeker, Palestine et Syrie (th ed.; Leipzig ), ,

but no doubt any edition of the guide would do.

37 DB :–.
 ton hilhorst

for the first condition, scholars denying the candidature of Tabor pointed
to the fact that there was a city on the mountain.38 Indeed, Polybius
(ca. –ca.  bc) in his Histories ..– mentions a πGλις called
5Αταβ ριον on the mountain, and Josephus in War .; .,  and
Life  mentions a fortified encampment there.39 Their opponents argue
that there was space enough left for retirement.40 The second condition
led those who denied the candidacy of Mount Tabor to assume that the
high mountain of Mark and Matthew suggested one of the summits of
Mount Hermon (whose height, , m., indeed leaves nothing to be
desired). Their opponents are of the opinion that the distance between
Caesarea Philippi and Mount Tabor could well be covered within a
week.41
Discussions of this kind, however, are fruitless, not just because the
meagre data in the Gospels allow both positions, but also and particularly
because the premise is vain. A modern reader will expect a text to be
either an account of verifiable facts or a fairy tale in which fantasy has
free play. Finding that the Gospels mention many real historical and
geographic items, one would assume that details that do not appear to
be so real at first glance, will also turn out to be real. If Herod, Pilate,
the Sea of Galilee, Tiberias, Nazareth, and so many other entities that
play a role in the life of Jesus, are elements of the real world, it is
difficult to accept that “a high mountain” might not be demonstrable.
Yet this must be the case. Parallels are not lacking in early Christian
literature: John was on Patmos, a well-known island in the Aegean, but
nevertheless he saw four angels standing at the four corners of the world

38 Zahn, Das Evangelium des Matthäus,  n. .

39 Here we cannot go into the question of the settlement of Mount Tabor, in particular
the relationship, if any, between the otherwise unknown πGλις of Polybius .., the
πεδον . . . τετειχισμνον of Josephus, War ., and the κμη 5Ιουδαων of Eusebius,
Onomasticon . (Klostermann). For a copious documention concerning the mountain,
primary sources as well as bibliography, see Y. Tsafrir et al., Tabula Imperii Romani:
Iudaea Palaestina: Eretz Israel in the Hellenistic, Roman and Byzantine Periods: Gazetteer
(Jerusalem ), –; add Dalman, Orte und Wege, –; F.W. Walbank, A
Historical Commentary on Polybius (Oxford ), :.
40 G. Wohlenberg, Das Evangelium des Markus (Kommentar zum Neuen Testament ;

Leipzig ), ; DB :; other references in Kopp, Die heiligen Stätten,  n. .
41 DB :. Cf also H. Baltensweiler, Die Verklärung Jesu (ATANT ; Zürich ),

– n. . For attempts in later periods to localize the mountain cf. those mentioned
by Baltensweiler, ibid.; J.M. Nützel, Die Verklärungserzählung im Markusevangelium
(Forschung zur Bibel ; Würzburg ),  n. ; Donaldson, Jesus on the Mountain,
 n. ; W.D. Davies and D.C. Allison, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the
Gospel according to Saint Matthew (ICC; Edinburgh ), :.
 the mountain of transfiguration 

(Rev :; :). Hermas lived in Rome and he had to convey a message
to Maximus, but we find him also sitting on a certain mountain, fasting
and thanking the Lord for his blessings, and descrying the heavenly
figure, the shepherd, sitting next to him (Shepherd .; .; .). The real
and the supernatural intermingle. This is also clear in Matthew. There
we have two corresponding mountains, the Mount of Temptation and
the Mount of Transfiguration; the similar vocabulary used with regard
to them underlines the correspondence: : παραλαμβ(νει α*τν %
δι#βολος ε!ς ρος ψηλν λαν—: παραλαμβ(νει % 5Ιησο4ς τν
Πτρον κα: 5Ι#κωβον κα: 5Ιω#ννην τν δελφν α*το4 κα: ναφρει
α*τοAς ε!ς ρος ψηλ ν. It might be thought that by hard reasoning
it would be possible to pinpoint the latter mountain on the map of
Palestine, but it will be impossible to do the same for the former, a
mountain, after all, from where “all the kingdoms of the world and
the glory of them” could be shown. If, then, the one mountain, that of
temptation, has to be considered as being beyond the ordinary world, in
principle the same might be said of the other. This possibility becomes
plausible or even compelling when attempts to identify that mountain
as a geographic element of Galilee fail to succeed, as is indeed the case.
Thus, both the “very high mountain” in Matt : and the “high mountain”
in Matt : and that before him in Mark :, are beyond the common
world.42
Luke takes an alternative direction; he rationalizes, we might say. In
:, he omits the Mount of Temptation and makes the devil take Jesus up
and show him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time—it is
more imaginable to show all the kingdoms of the world while suspended
in the air than while standing upon a mountain top. In :, he changes
Mark’s and Matthew’s “a high mountain” to “the mountain,” which is,
as we saw earlier, a real Galilean mountain and, indeed, almost Jesus’
habitual place of work. The whole subsequent history of our Mount
of Transfiguration is inspired by the same rationalizing. The idea was
that the mountain had to be a tangible one. As something “holy” had
occurred there, it deserved the title “the holy mountain,” which we find
from  Peter onward, and as, according to the Gospels it was to be found
in Galilee, the most outstanding and highest mountain of that region,
Mount Tabor, was eventually recognized as the desired place. Only if

42 Cf. W.D. Davies and D.C. Allison, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the

Gospel according to Saint Matthew (ICC; Edinburgh ), :–.

 ton hilhorst

we take the earliest accounts of the transfiguration seriously, will we

understand that originally the mountain was not part of the map of
Galilee.43

43 I gratefully acknowledge the help received in various forms during the preparation

of this essay from Wim Aerts, Dr J.L.W.M. Hermans, Carolien Hilhorst-Böink, Gerard
Luttikhuizen, and Lautaro Roig Lanzillotta.
 JOSUA IM URTEIL EINIGER FREIDENKER*

Cornelis Houtman

Josua, der Mann, der Israel in das verheißene Land hineinführte, diente
Jahrhunderte hindurch in erbaulicher christlicher Auslegung als Figur
von Jesus Christus, „der Gottes Volk in den Himmel hineinführen soll-
te,“1 während er in seiner Rolle als Kriegsherr—bildlich dargestellt in
einer festen ikonografischen Tradition (Abb. )2—als Vorbild für seinen
Glauben hingestellt werden konnte, nicht nur bei der Eroberung Jerichos
(Josua ; cf. Heb :), sondern auch bei der Schlacht von Gibea (Jos
:–). Dem Bild, das dort auf dem abgebildeten Druck zu sehen ist,
werden folgende Worte hinzugefügt:
Die liebe Sonn stund still, das gab ein dopplen Tag,
Der Mond blieb auch zurück, sieh was der Glaub vermag.

Josua, der christliche Heilige, ist seit dem . Jh. einer radikalen Bibelkri-
tik der Freidenker zum Opfer gefallen. Wir werden uns mit dem Urteil
einiger von ihnen über ihn und dem nach ihm benannten Buch beschäf-
tigen.

. Jean Meslier

Jean Meslier (–) war von  bis zu seinem Tod Pastor in
Etrépigny in der Gegend des nordfranzösischen Charleville-Mézières.
Als er starb, hinterließ er in dreifacher Ausfertigung ein umfangreiches
Manuskript, das an seine Parochianer gerichtet war, dessen Titel mit den
Worten beginnt „Mémoires des pensées et des sentimens de J.M. . . .
Prêtre, Curé d’Estrepy. et de But.“ In dem als „Le Testament“ bekannt

* Aus dem Niederländischen übersetzt von Walter Hilbrands.

1 So nach J.F. Schimsheimer, Bijbelsche gedichten (Amsterdam ), .
2 Historiae Sacrae Veteris & Novi Testamenti = Biblische Figuren, darinnen die für-

nembste Historien, in heiliger Schrifft begrippen sein = Figures de la Bible, demonstrans les
principales Histoires de la Sainte Ecriture = Bybelsche Figuren, vertonende de voornaamste
Historien der Heilige Schriftuur = Figures of the Bible, in which the chiefest Histories of the
holy Scriptures are discribed (Amsterdam ), .
 cornelis houtman

Abb. : „Iosua “ aus Historiae Sacrae Veteris

& Novi Testamenti (Amsterdam ), .

gewordenen Werk erweist sich Meslier, der zeitlebens als Dorfpastor treu
seinen Pflichten nachgekommen war, als ein Atheist und philosophi-
scher Materialist und als ein radikaler Kritiker der Religion und der Bibel
und der christlichen Religion in Gestalt der römisch-katholischen Kir-
che im Besonderen. Er äußert auch scharfe Kritik an den gesellschaftli-
chen Verhältnissen und Institutionen seiner Zeit und entpuppt sich als
werdender Kommunist.3 Vollständig wurde „Le Testament“ mit einer
Einleitung des Verlegers zuerst – in Amsterdam von Rudolf
Carel Meijer (–) veröffentlicht, der auch unter dem Namen
R.C. d’Ablaing van Giessenburg bekannt war, ein Vertreter niederländi-
scher Freidenker.4

3 S. zu ihm H.R. Schlette in Religionskritik von der Aufklärung bis zur Gegenwart

(Hg. K.-H. Weger; Freiburg i.Br. ), –. In RGG (. Aufl.) und TRE findet sich
kein Artikel über ihn, wohl aber in Wikipedia. Auch in M. Sæbø, Hg., Hebrew Bible/Old
Testament: The History of Its Interpretation (Göttingen ), Bd. , wird er nicht genannt.
4 S. zu ihm T. Haan und J.M. Welcker in Biografisch woordenboek van het socialisme

en de arbeidersbeweging in Nederland [ferner abgekürzt als BWSAN], (Hg. P.J. Meerten et

al.; Amsterdam ), :–. Die erste Ausgabe umfasste drei Bände mit insgesamt
 josua im urteil einiger freidenker 

Meslier geht nicht speziell auf das Josuabuch ein, aber aus seinen
Ausführungen und den Bemerkungen, die er über den Inhalt macht,
kann seine Sichtweise abgeleitet werden. Wir vermitteln einen Eindruck
seiner Ansichten über das Christentum und die Bibel, konzentriert auf
das Josuabuch und seine Hauptperson.
Nach dem Urteil von Meslier gibt es keine wahre Religion. Alle Reli-
gionen erweisen sich, wenn sie der Vernunft unterworfen werden, als
menschliche Schöpfungen. Auf Wahn und Betrug basierend, werden sie
von Machthabern zur Bestätigung und Legitimation ihrer Macht ver-
wendet. Seinem Urteil zufolge kann die Bibel unmöglich als Zeugnis für
einen allmächtigen, unendlich guten und weisen Gott betrachtet werden.
Eine Untersuchung ihres Inhalts kann nur zu der Schlussfolgerung füh-
ren, dass die christliche Religion eine Religion wie andere Religionen ist
und in jedem Fall nicht ein höheres Niveau aufweist (z. B. :; :).
Sollte das Christentum die wahre Religion und die Bibel das Zeugnis
für den allmächtigen, unendlich guten und weisen Gott sein, dann sollte
der Beweis hierfür mit soviel Evidenz geliefert werden, dass eine Diskus-
sion unmöglich ist. Dieser Beweis kann jedoch nicht geliefert werden.
Die biblischen Schriften können im Hinblick auf den Inhalt unmöglich
das Resultat göttlicher Inspiration und ebenso wenig menschlicher Weis-
heit sein. Infolgedessen steht ihnen nicht zu, dass man ihnen irgendeinen
Glauben schenkt (:; vgl. auch z. B. :).
Als Beweis für den unzuverlässigen Charakter der Bibel weist Meslier
u. a. auf die unzulängliche Überlieferung des Alten Testaments (:),
auf den Umstand, dass die Bibel keine allgemeine Anerkennung erhal-
ten hat, sondern von u. a. Marcion und den Manichäern kritisiert wurde
(:), und über die Grenzen des Kanons keine Einstimmigkeit bestand
und besteht (:). Es scheint keinen Prüfstein zu geben, an dem die
Sicherheit der Autorität der Bibel überprüft werden kann (:). Die
Erforschung der Bibel erweist, dass die Autorität und die Wahrheit, wel-
che die Christen für die Bibel einfordern, unbegründet ist. Es wimmelt
von Widersprüchen in der Bibel5 und von grauenhaften Vorschriften. Es
wird angeordnet, Gott Tiere zu opfern. Sogar Menschen werden ihm als

über  Seiten. In diesem Artikel wird der  beim Georg Olms Verlag, Hildes-
heim, erschienene Nachdruck verwendet. In Paris ist – eine kritische Ausgabe
von Mesliers gesamtem bekannten schriftlichen Werk erschienen, herausgegeben von
J. Deprun et al.
5 Detailliert diskutiert Meslier die Unterschiede zwischen den Evangelien (:–

).
 cornelis houtman

Opfer gebracht (:–). Dies führt Meslier zu der Bemerkung, dass

diese Menschen wohl verblendet gewesen sein müssen, wenn sie glaub-
ten, dass sie Gott eine Freude bereiten könnten, indem sie das Blut fließen
ließen und diese armen Tiere und ihr Fleisch verbrannten. Der grauen-
hafte Charakter der Vorschriften ist ein Hinweis darauf, dass sie nicht
von Gott stammen können. So liefern sie den Beweis, dass die sogenann-
ten Offenbarungen und diejenigen, die sie bringen, lügenhaft sind. Die
Propheten sind „Fantasten und Schwärmer“ (:, ), die sich ein-
bildeten, dass der Geist Gottes auf sie einwirkte, während doch unter
ihnen auch Betrüger waren, die es ihnen nachtaten. Der Umstand, dass
die Propheten einander bekämpften, liefert wohl den größten Beweis für
die Unsinnigkeit all dieser angeblichen Offenbarungen (:–). Ihre
zahllosen Verheißungen über das zukünftige Glück und die Größe Jeru-
salems haben sich als falsch erwiesen (:–).
Dasselbe Urteil trifft die im Neuen Testament über und von Jesus geäu-
ßerten Verheißungen (:–). Jesus war dann auch in keiner Weise
besser als die anderen Offenbarungsmittler. Er war einer der Betrüger in
seiner Zeit, die sich für den Messias ausgaben, und ein Illusionist (:–
). Von seinen Zeitgenossen wurde er betrachtet als „ein nutzloser, ver-
achtenswerter Mensch, ein zügelloser Schwärmer, der als ein jämmerli-
cher Taugenichts endetet“ (:; :).
Auch die Erscheinungen und Offenbarungen an die Patriarchen (Gen
:–; :–; : usw.) mit ihren Verheißungen großer Nachkom-
menschaft und des Besitzes umfangreichen Landes (:–) sind
nicht mehr als „triviale und eitle Trugbilder“, die nichts Göttliches bein-
halten und nur Gelächter hervorrufen.
Es ist genauso, als wenn einige Fremdlinge, z. B. einige Deutsche oder
einige Schweizer, in unser Frankreich kommen würden und behaupten
würden, nachdem sie die Gelegenheit hatten, die schönsten Gebiete des
Königreichs zu bewundern, dass Gott ihnen in ihrem Land erschienen sei
und ihnen gesagt habe, nach Frankreich zu gehen, und er ihnen und ihren
Nachkommen alle wunderschönen Gebiete, Herrlichkeiten und Provin-
zen des Königreichs, von den großen Flüssen Rhein und Rhône bis zum
Ozean, schenken werde und dass er einen ewigen Bund mit ihnen und
ihren Nachkommen schließen werde, ihre Nachkommen wie die Sterne
am Himmel vermehren werde . . . Wer würde diese Fremdlinge nicht als
Verrückte, als Fantasten und als zügellose Fanatiker betrachten? (:–
).
Ihr Anspruch auf Offenbarung wird in jedem Fall nicht anerkannt wer-
den. Kurzum: Die Erfüllung der Verheißungen, über die im Buch Josua
berichtet wird, kann nicht als „Gottes Wort“ ernst genommen werden.
 josua im urteil einiger freidenker 

Auch die in der Bibel beschriebenen Wunder können nicht als Beweise
für den besonderen Charakter der christlichen Religion angeführt wer-
den. Auch andere Religionen kennen Wunder und die Wundergeschich-
ten aus der Bibel sind nicht glaubwürdiger als vergleichbare Geschich-
ten aus der Antike, um nicht von den Wundern zu reden, von denen
die christlichen Heiligenlegenden zeugen (:–, –, –).
Die Wundergeschichten sind nicht mehr als „eitle Lügen“, die als Nach-
ahmung der Fabeln und Dichtungen heidnischer Poeten entstanden sind
(:). Die Schriften der klassischen profanen Autoren erweisen sich
als viel erhabener als die sogenannten heiligen Bücher, die Fabeln des
Äsop „sehr viel kunstvoller und lehrsamer“ als „die trivialen und plum-
pen Gleichnisse“ der vermeintlichen Evangelien (:).
Unter den angeblichen Wundergeschichten des Alten Testaments
nennt Meslier auch zwei aus dem Buch Josua: „Gott brachte in der Zeit
des Josua die Mauern einiger Städte durch den Schall von Hörnern zu
Fall [Jos :–] und die Sonne ließ er einen ganzen Tag still stehen, um
dem Volk für den Kampf gegen die Feinde Zeit zu geben und sie zu besie-
gen [Jos :]“ (:). Die Geschichten beeindrucken Meslier nicht.
Er weist darauf hin, dass aus der klassischen Antike eine Geschichte
über Theben bekannt ist, die mit der von Josua  vergleichbar ist, aber
noch wundersamer: Die Mauern der Stadt wurden durch die Klänge der
Musikinstrumente des Amphion gebaut; unter diesem Einfluss fügten
sich die Steine von selbst (:).6
Die Wundergeschichten sind nicht nur unglaubwürdig, sondern sie
machen auch deutlich, dass das Gottesbild der Bibel absurd ist und Gott
unwürdig. Sie führen nämlich zu der Schlussfolgerung, dass Gott mehr
Interesse an verschiedenen kleinen Dingen bekundet als am Wohler-
gehen der Menschheit als ganzer. Meslier arbeitet diesen Punkt detail-
lierter heraus (:–). Er weist u. a. darauf hin, dass Gott einen
Engel sandte, um einer einfachen Dienstmagd zu helfen (Gen :–),
aber es zuließ und noch immer zulässt, dass jeden Tag aufs Neue eine
unzählbare Menge unschuldiger Menschen Hunger leiden und in ihrem
Elend umkommen (:), dass er auf wunderbare Weise ein Volk vier-
zig Jahre lang versorgt hat (Deut :; :), aber offensichtlich für die vie-
len Güter und Reichtümer nicht sorgen wollte und sich nicht sorgt, die
für den Fortbestand der Völker nötig sind, von denen so viele als Folge
verhängnisvoller Ereignisse untergingen und noch untergehen (:).

6 Zu Amphion siehe H. von Geisau, in KlPauly :.

 cornelis houtman

Viele Wunder bestehen in der Heimsuchung von Völkern, der Verwüs-

tung von Landstrichen, Städten und Königreichen und der Vernichtung
von Völkern und ganzen Armeen.7 Sie machen deutlich, dass Gott sich
mehr um das materielle Wohlsein des jüdischen Volkes sorgt—er will
ihm ein fremdes Land als Besitz verschaffen—, als dass er darauf abzielt,
es weise und vollkommen zu machen, wie aus der Bibel selbst erkennbar
wird (Deut : [:]).
Das anstößigste Wunder für Meslier ist die Inkarnation. Göttlichkeit
werde „einem nutzlosen Mann, der kein Talent, Verstand oder Wissen
besaß“, „einem Verrückten, einem Wahnsinnigen“ zugeschrieben. Die-
ser Mensch, „der sich selbst nicht vom schmachvollen Tod am Kreuz hat
retten können“, wird von der Kirche als Retter und Heiland angebetet
(:). Ihn entdecken die Christen bereits im Alten Testament, in einer
Reihe von Personen, unter denen auch Josua ist, die sie als Figur von
Jesus Christus betrachten (:). Die Identifikation ist nicht mehr als
reine Einbildung, behauptet Meslier (:). Alle allegorische und typo-
logische Auslegung des Alten Testaments (:–; :–) bezeichnet
er als „Unsinn“, der zum Lachen provoziert. „Wenn man alle Worte, alle
Taten und alle Abenteuer des berühmten Don Quichote von La Manche
auf dieselbe Weise allegorisch und figürlich interpretieren würde, würde
man dort zweifellos nach Belieben ebenso viele Geheimnisse und Sinn-
bilder entdecken können,“ so behauptet er (:).

. Hermann Samuel Reimarus

Bekannter unter den Vertretern der Bibelwissenschaft als Meslier ist

Herrmann Samuel Reimarus (–), ein vielseitiger Gelehrter8
und ebenfalls Verfasser eines „Testaments“, Apologie oder Schutzschrift
für die vernünftigen Verehrer Gottes,9 das vollständig erst  veröffent-
licht wurde. Von dem im ersten Band Josua gewidmeten Kapitel (–
) vermitteln wir einen Eindruck.
Nach dem Urteil von Reimarus wird Josua von Juden und Christen
zu Unrecht als ein Offenbarungsmittler betrachtet. „Bloß die Worte, der

7 Meslier erwähnt in diesem Zusammenhang das Buch Josua nicht explizit, aber es

gehört zweifellos zu den Bibelabschnitten, die er vor Augen hat.

8 S. zu ihm z. B. H. Reventlow, Epochen der Bibelauslegung (München ), :–

.
9 In zwei Bänden ( über das AT;  über das NT) herausgegeben von G. Alexander

(Frankfurt a.M. ).

 josua im urteil einiger freidenker 

Herr hat es Mosi geboten“, hat ihn, „der eine Galgen und Rad verdient“, zu
jemandem gemacht, der „als ein Heiliger, als ein Bote und Prophet Gottes
gepriesen wird“ (). In Wirklichkeit ist er „der gröste Straßenräuber“
(), der „von Mosi gelernt [hat] das Jus fortioris mit dem Vorwande
eines göttlichen Befehls zu bemänteln, und dabey alle Barmhertzigkeit
gegen die Unschuldigen aus den Augen zu setzen“ (). Josuas Erobe-
rung des Landes und die Vernichtung seiner Bewohner kann nicht von
Gott gewollt sein. Die Argumentation, mit der „die Herrn Theologi“ die
Vorgehensweise von Josua rechtfertigen—Josua und die Israeliten tre-
ten als Schiedsrichter Gottes auf, weil das Maß der Ungerechtigkeit der
Bewohner Kanaans voll war (z. B. Gen :)—ist nicht stichhaltig und
ungerecht gegenüber den Kanaanitern, welche die Vorfahren Israels als
Fremdlinge freundschaftlich aufgenommen hatten. Über den von ihnen
betriebenen Götzendienst fehlt jede Andeutung im Buch Genesis ()10
und auch im Buch Josua (). Er wird als falscher Vorwand zur Legiti-
mation für „Raubbegierde“ () gebraucht, die Gott unwürdig ist: „so
ist es doch weder seiner Weißheit und Güte, noch seiner Regierungsart
und Haushaltung unter den Menschen gemäß, daß er die wahre Religion
durch gewaltsame Mittel pflantzen, und die Abgötterey durch Vertilgung
der Völker bestrafen wollte“ (). Sollte Gott darauf bedacht sein, die
Abgötterei auszurotten, dann würden für eine Ausrottung andere Völ-
ker viel stärker in Betracht kommen als „die unschuldigen Cananiter,
welche nach allen Datis ein weit besseres praktisches Erkenntniß von
Gott gehabt haben mögen, als die zur Abgötterey gewöhnte und stets
geneigte Israeliten“ (). Wenn das Vorbild von Israel zur Legitimation
für die Eroberung Kanaans—ein göttlicher Befehl wird ersonnen—von
anderen Völkern befolgt werden würde, entsteht eine Situation, die „der
wilden und gesetzlosen Natur der wütenden Raubthiere“ gleicht (;
vgl. auch ). Ein Natur- und Völkerrecht, das sich an Gott orientiert,
muss hingegen als unveränderlichen Ausgangspunkt die Regel haben:
Fügt einander kein Leid zu, wenn dir vorher kein Leid zugefügt wurde
().
Für die Auffassung, dass das Morden, Rauben, Plündern, Brandschat-
zen und Ausrotten von Josua im Namen Gottes geschieht, kann man sich
nicht auf die Wundergeschichten berufen. Die Geschichten im Josua-
buch widersprechen selbst der wunderbaren Art und Weise, mit der
Josua die Eroberungen zustande gebracht haben soll. Erzählt wird von

10 Vgl. C. Houtman, De Schrift wordt geschreven: Op zoek naar een christelijke herme-

neutiek van het Oude Testament (Zoetermeer ), –.

 cornelis houtman

Verrat, der Verbreitung falscher Gerüchte und durchdachten Strategien.

Dies alles sind nur Hilfsmittel von machtlosen Menschen, die nicht mit
Wundern rechnen. Josua ist offensichtlich kein „Wundermann“. Viele
Städte vermochte er nicht einzunehmen, weil sie allzu feste Mauern hat-
ten. Viele Völker konnte er nicht mehr besiegen, weil sie eiserne Wagen
hatten (). In Wirklichkeit scheint Josua offenbar nur in geringem
Maß Erfolg gehabt zu haben (–). Das Buch Josua macht deutlich,
dass das, was er verrichtete, „lauter unvolkommenes Werk und Kröpe-
ley“ war () und ganz und gar verrät, wie unbequem er war ().
Das Bild von ihm als der von Gott Gerufene hält nicht stand. Bei Ai
erlitt er eine Niederlage und macht Achan zum Opfer seines Vergehens
(Josua ), um seine Reputation eines von Gott gesandten Leiters auf-
recht zu erhalten (–). Seine Vorgehensweise gegen Achan war nur
„ein kahler Vorwand“, um sein Vergehen zu verbergen (S. ). Er han-
delte, wie Generäle es zu tun pflegen, aber verhielt sich charakterlos, als
er Achans gesamte Familie bestrafte. Eine derart grausame Ungerechtig-
keit lässt sich nicht mit einem Ausspruch Gottes in Übereinstimmung
bringen ().
Die Wunder, mit denen sein Name verbunden ist, lassen sich leicht
erklären (–).11 Der Schreiber des Josuabuches hat in seinem Be-
richt von der Schlacht von Gibea (Jos :–) aus Liebe für das Wun-
dersame „aus einem Gedichte [Josua hat Sonne und Mond befohlen, still
zu stehen] eine Geschichte gemacht“ (). Die wirkliche Geschichte,
der Hintergrund des Gedichts, sah wie folgt aus: Die Israeliten hatten in
der Schlacht von Gibea als Folge des Scheins der untergehenden Sonne
und des aufgehenden Mondes einen derart hellen Abend und eine lichte
Nacht, dass es so erschien, als ob der Tag noch eine Zeit länger andauerte.
Auch die Beschreibung der Eroberung Jerichos (Josua ) ist nach Rei-
marus poetischer Art. Der Poet stellt es so dar, als ob die gesamte Mauer
sich von selbst auf einmal zu den Füßen der Israeliten erniedrigt hatte,
während in Wirklichkeit die Israeliten „die Einwohner der Stadt Jericho
mit ihren öfteren müssigen Processionen um die Stadt beynahe irre und
sicher gemacht [hatten], und dann unvermuhtet, auf einmal von allen
Seiten, die Mauer mit einem Grossen Feldschrey bestiegen, und einnah-
men“ ().
Josuas Laufbahn muss als missglückt betrachtet werden. Er hat sein
Volk weder in materieller noch in geistlicher Hinsicht in glücklichen

11 Zu Reimarus’ rationaler Erklärung der Wunder siehe Houtman, De Schrift wordt

geschreven, –, –.

 josua im urteil einiger freidenker 

Umständen zurückgelassen. „Man kann sich, nach allen Aussichten,

nichts kläglicheres und ungereimteres vorstellen, als die hebräische Re-
publik war, wie sie Josua verließ“ (), so Reimarus am Schluss seiner
Ausführungen über Josua. Schon zeitig hatte Josua, ob aus freiem Willen
oder gezwungen, seine Tätigkeiten als allgemeiner Heerführer beendet
(, , ). Die Macht lag danach in den Händen der Hohepries-
ter und Ältesten, was zu einem Vakuum in der Leitung führte (): „Es
sollte und muste kein König in Israel seyn: der Herr allein, oder vielmehr
der Hohepriester, war König; und wer von einem rechten Könige sprach,
der hatte nicht so wohl den Usurpatör, als Gott selbst verworfen“ ().
Es war Josua nicht geglückt, die mosaische Religion gänzlich einzufüh-
ren und das mosaische Gesetz zur Anerkennung zu verhelfen und—was
angesichts seiner Unvollkommenheit sehr notwendig war—zu reformie-
ren (–). Die Priesterschaft mit ihren Privilegien bildete hier ein
Hindernis: „Wer diesen Augapfel anzutasten, ein ordentlich Regiment
einzuführen, und das Volk von den übermässigen Priester-Gaben und
Levitischen Plackereyen zu entbinden gewagt hätte, der würde die gantze
heilige Schaar gegen sich gehabt haben. Die maaßte sich auch zu Josuä
Zeit alsobald der Obermacht, selbst in politischen Dingen, an“ ().

. Alexander de M.

Alexander de M.—hinter dieser Abkürzung verbirgt sich Junker Ferdi-

nand Alexander de Mey van Alkemade (–)12—ist der Verfas-
ser eines umfangreichen Werks De Bijbel beschouwd in zijne eigenlijke
waarde (Die Bibel in ihrem eigentlichen Wert betrachtet), eine durch-
gehend kritische Überprüfung aller Bibelbücher, das  erschien.13
Triebfeder für die Veröffentlichung seines Kommentars zur Bibel war
für De M. das Bedürfnis aufzuzeigen, dass der Schrift der Christenheit
das Attribut „heilig“ wegen des verwerflichen Gottesbildes und ihrer

12 Bisher ist es mir nicht gelungen, nähere biografische Angaben über ihn zu erhalten.

Der Schreiber Multatuli (Eduard Douwes Dekker [–]) rechnet Alexander de M.

in „Idee “ zu denjenigen „unter uns, die Schmach ertragen um der Wahrheit willen.“
Siehe Volledige werken (Amsterdam ), :. S. zu Multatuli J.M. Welcker in BWSAN
:–.
13 Das Werk erschien in drei Bänden ( und  über das AT;  über das NT) in Am-

sterdam auf Kosten des Autors bei F. Günst, Verleger und Sympathisant der Freidenker.
S. zu ihm H. Moors in BWSAN :–.
 cornelis houtman

Legitimierung von Gewalt und Betrug keineswegs zusteht.14 Die Vor-

stellung, dass die Bibel von Menschen geschrieben wurde, die vom Geist
Gottes inspiriert waren, hält er angesichts des Inhalts für einen geistes-
kranken Gedanken. Eine Untersuchung der Bibel erweist, dass es ein
Buch von Menschen ist und von leichtem Gehalt. De M.s Ausführun-
gen beruhen auf einer eigenen Analyse der Bibel anhand der Statenverta-
ling, der „nationalen“ niederländischen Bibel, und einer jüdischen Über-
setzung „auf Englisch von Dr. Leeser in Philadelphia“ (xiii).15 Niemals,
so teilt er mit, las er „irgendein Buch, das gegen die Bibel geschrieben
war“ (xiii). De M. betrachtete sich selbst nicht als einen Atheisten, son-
dern glaubte in „die Vorsehung“, die in der Natur durch die Vernunft zu
erkennen ist (:x), „das unendliche Wesen . . . , das man gewöhnlich Gott
nennt“, das jedoch nichts zu tun hat mit „dieser launischen und leeren
Figur“, dem Gott der Bibel (:v). Von seinen Ausführungen zum Josua-
buch (:–) vermitteln wir einen Eindruck.
De M.s Augenmerk liegt darauf, das Handeln Josuas und damit „die
großen Taten“ des Herrn anhand dessen zu entsakralisieren, was im Buch
Josua geschrieben steht. Im Prinzip kommt dessen Inhalt „einer Mord-
übungsschule mit zwischenzeitlichen Wunderdarstellungen“ gleich. Iro-
nisch fügt De M. dem hinzu: „alles zum Nutzen und zur Erbauung!“
(). Das Buch macht deutlich, „in welche Extreme man den Menschen
führen kann, indem man sie glauben macht, dass sie durch unnatürliche
Handlungen Gott dienen können“ (). Zur Illustration weist De M. auf
die Geschichte über die Plünderung und Vernichtung von Ai (Josua ).
Auch wehrlose Frauen und Kinder werden von „den gnadenlosen Hän-
den“ der „Kämpfer vor dem Herrn“ ermordet (), worauf ein Fest mit
vielen Dankopfern für den Herrn folgt (vgl. Jos :). Dies entlockt De M.
die Bemerkung: „Es wäre ihr verdienter Lohn gewesen, wenn der Herr
diesmal die Idee gehabt hätte, um die Opfernden von der Erde verschlin-
gen zu lassen“ ().16 Denn „Horden von Barbaren oder Wilden werden
in der Tat weniger rachsüchtig gehandelt haben als dieses heilige Volk auf
Befehl des Herrn, der sich selbst ein Gott nannte“ ().

14 S. die Vorrede zu Band , v–xv.

15 Gemeint ist die Übersetzung von Isaac Leeser (–): Twenty-Four Books of
the Holy Scriptures Transl. after the Best Jewish Authorities.
16 De M. spielt auf Num :– auf, worauf er auf – eingeht. Damals handelte

der Herr völlig ungerecht. Ihm gegenüber muss man sich aber vor Kritik hüten. Er ist
„so mächtig, dass er den Boden unter den Füßen derjenigen aufspalten lässt, die seine
Meinung nicht vertreten“ ().
 josua im urteil einiger freidenker 

Auch an anderer Stelle schildert De M. den Gott des Josuabuches als

einen bösartigen Gott. In Zusammenhang mit der Verhärtung des Her-
zens der in Jos :– genannten Könige bemerkt er: „Der Herr hatte
ihr Herz noch nicht in dem Maße verhärtet, oder das Schwert der Israe-
liten konnte noch mächtig vorstoßen. Vermutlich wollte der Herr durch
diese Mordübung auch das Herz der Kinder Israels verhärten“ (). Die
Geschichte über Achan (Josua ), der, obwohl er seine Missetat bekannte
(:–), nichtsdestotrotz mit Haus und Habe exekutiert wurde (:–
), führt De M. zu der Bemerkung: „Der Herr war also, nach dem Tod
des Mose, weder gerechter in seinen Urteilen geworden noch mitleids-
voller“ (). Und was Josua und die Israeliten betrifft, verhalten sich
diese im Fall der Gibeoniter (Josua ) nur augenscheinlich anständiger,
als der Herr sich zu verhalten pflegt. Sie bleiben dem geschworenen Eid
treu (Jos :, , ). Hierzu macht De M. folgende Aussage: „viele sol-
cher Beispiele für Ehrlichkeit kommen in diesen Geschichten nicht vor“
(). Bedacht muss jedoch werden, dass nicht Ehrlichkeit die Triebfeder
war, sondern Diplomatie. Josua wurde sich bewusst, „dass es ratsam war,
die kananitischen Städte nicht noch mehr zu verärgern, nachdem sie, die
miteinander verbunden waren, stärker waren als Israel“ ().
Eine Analyse des Josuabuches erweist De M. zufolge, dass die Erobe-
rung des Landes Kanaan gewiss nicht beeindruckend war. Dreißigtau-
send Helden wurden eingesetzt, um die Stadt Ai zu erobern, die nicht
mehr als . Einwohner zählte. Andere eroberte Städte waren nicht
mehr als Dörfer (, ). Die Israeliten nahmen ein Land in Besitz, das
nicht größer als ein Viertel des Königreiches der Niederlande war ().
Immer wieder wird gesagt, dass Josua sie in den Besitz des Landes setzte
(, –), aber tatsächlich mussten die Israeliten es selbst in Besitz
nehmen. Anstatt alles fertig vorzufinden, mussten sie anfangen „Häuser
für sich zu bauen und sich mit Milch und Honig zu versorgen“ ().
Auch scheint Josua, ebenso wie sein Vorgänger Mose, Gefallen daran
gefunden zu haben, die Siege größer darzustellen, als sie in Wirklichkeit
waren. So wird z. B. aus einem Vergleich von Jos : mit Jos ; :
deutlich, dass die Eroberung Jerusalems „von Josua lediglich geträumt
worden war“ ().
Die Wunder, die im Josuabuch beschrieben werden, sind nur schein-
bar übernatürlicher Art. Sie beruhen auf Betrug oder falscher Wahrneh-
mung. Der Durchzug durch den Jordan (Josua ), „dieses große Wun-
der, das Josua groß machte“, war möglich, weil die Leviten, indem sie
bei einer Abzweigung einen Damm in dem Fluss machten, den Strom
 cornelis houtman

umleiteten (). Die Mauern von Jericho stürzten ein (Josua ), weil
Josua im Komplott mit den Leviten, „diesen Kriegsknechten Gottes,“ die
Mauern hatte untergraben lassen und durch Schießpulver hatte sprengen
lassen (). Das Wunder von Gibeon—Sonne und Mond unterbrachen
ihren Lauf (Jos :–)—, das Josua zu „einem Sterndeuter“ machte
„so groß, wie es nie zuvor noch nach ihm einen gab oder jemals geben
wird“ (), wird von De M. auf die Wahrnehmung „dieses oder jenes
betrunkenen Kriegshelden“ reduziert, der den Mond, der diese Nacht
ganz hell geschienen haben kann, als Sonne ansah und ihren Wider-
schein im Meer für den echten Mond ().
Nachdem er den Tod Josuas und des Priesters Eleasar (Jos :–)
erwähnt hat, beschließt De M. seine Auslegung des Josuabuches mit der
Anmerkung: „Ob sie beide nach diesem Sterben an denselben Ort ange-
langt sind, an dem Mose und Aaron sich aufhielten, wird nicht gesagt,
aber dies ist wohl anzunehmen; denn solch würdige Menschen gehören
zusammen“ ().17 Alle vier waren sie Schurken, und der schlimmste
von ihnen war wohl Mose. Seine Charakterisierung schließt De M. mit
der Bemerkung ab, „denn man muss wissen, dass in jedem Wort, das
Mose ausschließlich vor dem Volk sprach, eine Irreführung begründet
liegt“ ().
De M. schrieb sein Werk, bevor in den Niederlanden die Ergebnisse
der historisch-kritischen Bibelforschung Eingang gefunden haben.18 So
befremdet es nicht, dass er traditionelle Auffassungen hinsichtlich der
Entstehung des Alten Testaments fast unbehelligt ließ und die histo-
rischen Bücher als Quelle für die Geschichte ernst nahm. So schreibt
er z. B. den Umstand, dass Rahab mit Israels wundersamer, vom Herrn
geleiteten Geschichte vertraut war (Jos :–), der zum Teil erfolgrei-
chen Propaganda von Mose und Josua zu, die dafür gesorgt hatten, „viele
Wundergeschichten verbreiten zu lassen, um am Ende auf diese Weise
den Einwohnern Kanaans allen Willen zum Widerstand zu nehmen“
(). Er weist zwar auf Diskrepanzen im Josuabuch hin, aber macht kei-
nen Versuch, diese zu erklären. Für ihn liefern sie nur Stoff für spöttische
Anmerkungen.
Die Erwähnung von Gosen in Jos : (vgl. auch :; :), das
nach u. a. Gen :; Ex : in Ägypten gelegen war, führt zu der Bemer-

17 Über Aarons und Moses Ende spricht De M. auf –, – und . Er

macht u. a. den Vorschlag, dass Aaron und Mose nach Ägypten zurückgekehrt sind.
18 Siehe C. Houtman, Der Pentateuch: Die Geschichte seiner Erforschung neben einer

Auswertung (Kampen ), –.

 josua im urteil einiger freidenker 

kung, „wie es Josua unversehens dorthin verschlagen hat, hat er nicht

notiert“ (). Die Tatsache, dass mehr als einmal über die Ausrottung
der Enakiter berichtet wird (Deut :–, ; Jos :–; :, ),
entlockt ihm die Bemerkung: „Diese Riesen wuchsen also sicherlich aus
dem Boden empor; wir haben bereits so viele Wunder vernommen,
dass ein weiteres Wunder leicht anzunehmen ist“ (; vgl. ). Bei
Josuas Androhung, dass die Israeliten im Fall von Untreue dem Herrn
gegenüber umkommen würden (Jos :, ), merkt De M. an, dass
dies „einigermaßen im Widerspruch“ mit dem steht, was Mose vorher-
sah, nämlich dass sie verstreut werden würden (Deut :; :; :),
„hierzu war jedoch erforderlich, dass sie nicht starben, sondern leben
blieben!“ (). Beiläufig berührt De M. auch Einleitungsfragen. Auf-
grund des Unterschieds im Stil zwischen Deuteronomium und den vor-
angehenden Büchern nimmt er an, dass der alte Mose das Schreiben von
Deuteronomium Josua überlassen hat ().

. Léo Taxil

Léo Taxil, Pseudonym von Marie Joseph Gabriel Antoine Jogand-Pagès

(–), Atheist und Verfasser antiklerikaler Publikationen, ist vor
allem durch den „Taxil-Betrug“ bekannt geworden.  bekehrte er
sich zum römischen Katholizismus und entpuppte sich sehr zur Freude
des kirchlichen Establishments zu einem Gegner der Freimaurerei. 
bekannte er, dass seine Bekehrung vorgetäuscht war und die Enthüllun-
gen über die Freimaurerei erfunden.19
Taxil ist der Verfasser der La Bible amusante (Paris ), einer fort-
laufenden Entsakralisierung des Alten Testaments, basierend auf den
Schriften von Voltaire (–), Henry St. John Bolingbroke (–
), John Toland (–) und anderen. Der „amüsante“ Charak-
ter wird noch durch  Cartoons von Frid’Rick erhöht.
Selbstverständlich ist auch in Taxils Erklärung des Josuabuches die
Gewalt ein wichtiges Thema. Die Rolle Josuas wird wie folgt beschrieben:
„Er hat alles ausgerottet; die Kapitel seines Buches wiederholen bis zum
Überdruss wie sein fortwährender Sieg kein lebendiges Wesen übrig-
ließ“ ().20 Gleichzeitig wird deutlich gemacht, dass das Buch voller

19 Zu Taxil findet sich kein Eintrag in RGG (. Aufl.) und TRE, jedoch in RGG (. Aufl.)

:–, und LThK (. Aufl.) :, und in Wikipedia.

20 Verwendet wird ein Nachdruck der niederl. Übersetzung aus dem Jahr : De
 cornelis houtman

Abb. : Frid’Rick, „Das Wunder von Gibea (Jos :–)“

aus Léo Taxil, La Bible amusante (Paris ), .

Aufschneiderei ist, indem den vorhergehenden Worten ergänzt wird:

„Und nach dem Tod von Josua finden wir bereits die vernichteten Feinde
wieder! Mächtiger als je zuvor, hielten sie die Juden in rücksichtsloser
Sklaverei bis in die Zeit von Saul und David nieder!“ ().
Die Unwahrscheinlichkeit von vielem, was mitgeteilt wird, wird her-
ausgestellt. So wird z. B. die Anordnung von den sechs Freistädten und
den  Levitenstädten (Josua ; ) charakterisiert als die Vorstellung
eines „levitischen Fälschers“, die nicht in das damalige Israel passt, „ein

amusante Bijbel (Zandvoort o. J. [ca. ]). Zum Buch Josua s. –; zu den 
Cartoons zu Josua s. –.
 josua im urteil einiger freidenker 

Miniaturvolk, herumirrend und -schweifend bis in die Tage Sauls“ (–

). Mit den Wundern und anderen Ereignissen wird Spott getrieben.
Taxil weist darauf hin, dass ungefähr zwei Millionen Männer beschnitten
wurden und man sich folglich nicht darüber wundern müsse, dass diese
„fantastische Menge Vorhäute“ einen ganzen Hügel bildete, „den Berg
der Vorhäute“ (Jos :– []). Das Wunder von Gibea (Jos :–)
hat, so Taxil, zu Recht „ein fröhliches Lachen erweckt“ (S. ) und ver-
mag noch stets durch einen „fröhlichen“ Cartoon zu unterhalten (;
hier Abb. ).
Auch das niedrige ethische Niveau des Buches und das minderwertige
Gottesbild müssen abbüßen. Rahab, eine schamlose Frau, die ihr Vater-
land verrät (), „eine schlampige Hure . . . , die es verdient, hingerich-
tet zu werden“ (), wird verschont (Jos :; :–). Die Geschichte
von der Eroberung Jerichos macht deutlich—so zu Recht Bolingbroke—,
dass „Gott der Vater aller Menschen“ diese Geschichte nicht anzulasten
ist: „Nur ein betrunkener Schurke kann sie geschrieben haben und ein
betrunkener Dummkopf kann sie glauben“ ().
Taxils „Bibel“ wird von Führern der sozialen Bewegung verwendet,
auch in den Niederlanden. Er lieferte die Munition in ihrem Kampf gegen
die Kirche und ihre Ehrfurcht vor der Bibel als Quelle der Offenba-
rung. Ferdinand Domela Nieuwenhuis (–), lutherischer Pfar-
rer von –, Sozialist und später Anarchist,21 zitiert aus der Amu-
sante Bijbel wegen des Porträts von Josua in einer Broschüre Een gale-
rij van bijbelsche personen (ter leering en navolging voorgehouden) (Eine
Galerie biblischer Personen [als Anleitung für die Lehre und Nachfolge]),22
die den Beweis liefern muss, dass Christen völlig zu Unrecht verschie-
dene biblische Personen als Vorbild in der ethischen Unterweisung hin-
stellen. Domela Nieuwenhuis urteilt wie folgt: Das Buch „wird durch
Morde, Plünderungen usw. zusammengehalten“; die Hauptperson war
„ein rasender Roland“; „wenn ein Attila oder ein Geuserik . . . als ‚Gei-
ßel Gottes‘ dargestellt werden, wie muss man dann diesen Josua sehen?“,
seufzt er (). Zustimmend zitiert er den Autoren Multatuli, der sei-
ner Verwunderung darüber Ausdruck verliehen hatte, dass Eltern ihren
Kindern die Bibel in die Hand geben, ein Buch, „das in schändlicher
Sprache und abscheulichen schmutzigen Dingen unübertroffen ist,“ und
sich fragt: „Mit welchem Recht verbannt man De Sade, Pigault Lebrun

21 S. zu ihm G. Harmsen, in BWSAN :–; C.C.G. Visser in Biografisch lexicon

voor de geschiedenis van het Nederlandse protestantisme :–.

22 . Aufl.; Amsterdam .
 cornelis houtman

oder Paul de Kock aus seinem Haus, wenn man seinen Töchtern die
Geschichten von Abraham, Lot, Jakob, Delila, Judith, Rahab, Bathseba
und Konsorten in die Hand gibt?“23

. Schluss

Die radikale Bibelkritik hat sich am Leben erhalten. In den Niederlanden

tritt derzeit u. a. der Romancier Maarten ’t Hart (geb. ) als Wort-
führer auf. Seine Auslegung der Bibel hat er in einem Doppelwerk De
Schrift betwist (Die Schrift bezweifelt)24 präsentiert. Auch für ihn hat die
Bibel verschiedene Seiten. Sie ist „amüsant“. Das gilt auch für das Buch
Josua. Ausgehend von Josua als Subjekt der in Josua  beschriebenen
Beschneidung (:) und der Prämisse, dass ca. . israelitische Män-
ner beschnitten wurden, berechnet er, dass Josua viertausend Stunden
(„pro Verstümmelung zwei Minuten“) beschäftigt gewesen sein muss,
d. h. bei einem Arbeitstag von  Stunden eineinhalb Jahre (:). Die
Bibel ist auch gräulich und voller Inkonsequenzen. Trotz der Gebote „Du
sollst nicht morden“ und „Du sollst nicht stehlen“ wird „unter dem wohl-
gefälligen Auge des höchsten Wesens“ (:) in großem Maßstab geraubt
und geplündert, während—wie inkonsequent und ungerecht angesichts
des schlechten Beispiels das immer gegeben wird—Achan (Josua ) für
Diebstahl, der bei Jericho vom Herrn nicht erlaubt ist, mit seiner ganzen
Familie unbarmherzig bestraft wird und während Stehlen und Rauben
für den eigenen Gebrauch bei Ai wieder erlaubt ist (Jos :, ) (:–
).
Rückblickend können wir feststellen, dass immer dieselben Themen
angeführt werden: die unverhältnismäßige Gewalt, das niedrige Gottes-
bild und die Unglaubwürdigkeit der Geschichten. Es bestehen jedoch
auch Unterschiede. Das Bedürfnis, die Wunder zu erklären, besteht nur
bei einigen.

23 Multatuli, „Idee “ in Volledige werken (Amsterdam, ), :.

24 Bd. : Wie God verlaat heeft niets te vrezen; Bd. : De bril van God (Amsterdam ,
).
 THE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH:
PIETY, PROPHECY, AND THE HERMENEUTICS OF
SUSPICION IN 1 KINGS 22

Eep Talstra

. Biblical Theology and the Status of the Text

Biblical theology as a discipline is struggling with the question of its

point of departure. For instance, when studying Old Testament theology
how does one organize textual materials? Should one search for a recon-
struction of ancient Israelite religion and its continuation in Persian and
Hellenistic times? Should one concentrate on various groups and their
struggle(s) for true speech about God, so that their debates and the pro-
cesses of selection and reception become the area of biblical theology?
Or should one skip that stage and investigate the theological profile of
the final text of the Old Testament as such?
Ed Noort, in an article on methods of biblical theology has tried to
find the balance. As the starting point for biblical theology of the Old
Testament he takes the period where the Hebrew Bible can be assumed
to have reached its more or less final form, i.e., in the third century bc.1
In Noort’s view, his approach to reading the Hebrew Bible as a completed
literary corpus is located not far from the so called “canonical” approach
to biblical theology. However, there is an important difference.
For Noort, not only the completed text, but also the reconstruction of
various historical stages of the text and the experiences and debates that
led to its final composition, are of great importance for the discipline.
Biblical theology cannot start as a project of abstract thinking about
God or evil, originating beyond categories of time and place without any
interest in the concrete manuscripts and the historical communities to
whom we owe the canonical texts. Theology of the Old Testament can
also not be based solely on a reconstruction of religious institutions and
concepts to be searched for behind the final texts. By only searching

1 E. Noort, “Tussen geschiedenis en theologie,” Kerk en Theologie  () –,

see –.
 eep talstra

backwards one will not be able to give much theological credit to the
outcome of the processes of textual composition, such as the fact that
we have both a Hebrew and a Greek canon. One should, according to
Noort, search for a balance between the reading of the Hebrew Bible
text as it can be assumed to have been present in the third century bc
and its reception by both the Hebrew and the Greek speaking religious
communities before and after that period.
Ed Noort’s profound interest in the theme of the land in the Old Tes-
tament is a clear illustration of his love for archaeology in the first place.
But it also is a clear marker of the position he takes in the discipline of Old
Testament theology. Fully opposite to the position of W. Brueggemann,2
the archaeological artefacts, the historical episodes, and the ancient Near
Eastern religions are for Noort not just the scenery providing us with
contrast information needed to define the profile of Old Testament the-
ology. Ancient Near Eastern gods and cultures are not the theatre where
the Old Testament testimonies about Yhwh have been heard for the first
time; rather they are a constitutive part of the play itself. Brueggemann
avoids the land as a theme in itself. It is not present in his section on
the “Embodied Testimony” where the institutions such as king, cult, or
prophets are discussed. In the “Core Testimony” very few of the classical
texts about land are mentioned, such as Gen :–, but there they only
are mentioned to testify about Yhwh as a promise maker, or as a God who
by his oath to the fathers gives the power to survive.3 Brueggemann’s hes-
itation towards the theme land is related to the actual political conflict of
Israel and the Palestinians,4 but it is also part of his methodology in gen-
eral: biblical theology is a testimony, a dispute, that is: speech. From this
point of departure it is difficult for Brueggemann to define a proper func-
tion for all that is beyond speech: the social and religious institutions, the
cultural artefacts or the historical communities, as he also himself admits
in the first lines of the “Embodied Testimony.”5
In the following I want to start from the claim that it is methodologi-
cally not possible to establish a biblical theology on the category of testi-
mony defined exclusively as speech. The Old Testament is not speech—it
is text. And text in the first place is a cultural artefact, reflecting debates

2 W. Brueggemann, Theology of the Old Testament: Testimony, Dispute, Advocacy

(Minneapolis ).
3 Ibid., , .
4 Ibid.,  n. .
5 Ibid., .
 the truth and nothing but the truth 

of historical communities on God, Israel, land, or cult. Not the study of

their speech, but the study of the resulting texts is the area of biblical the-
ology. This claim, I think, is in line with Ed Noort’s approach to biblical
theology. In my opinion, Noort’s view on text and canon as expressed in
“Tussen geschiedenis en theologie” (“Between History and Theology”)6
is in analogy with his view on the research of land or Canaanite religion:
with the texts of the Hebrew Bible we possess the artefacts resulting from
the actual debates and traditions of religious communities, preserved and
rearranged in an overall structure called canon. My second claim is that,
when following Noort in his approach of data first, one will not at all be
restricted to the attitude Brueggemann wants to avoid, i.e., the detached
analysis of ancient texts. On the contrary, in studying texts as completed
discourse one will have access to an engagement that guided the com-
position and preservation of these texts and that invites its readers to an
engagement similar to the one Brueggemann seeks to achieve with his
own readers.7
It is challenging to try to proceed with reflections on biblical theology
along the lines Noort has drawn. How would it work to take a position
that deliberately tries to cover most of the two contrastive positions that
determine so much of the debate in biblical interpretation, i.e., the history
of religion and the presence of a canon? In any case, it implies a great
interest in texts and in textual composition, with the word “composition”
having both the meaning of the activity of composing as well as its final
result. As an exercise I have chosen the text of  Kgs :– to look
at the possible contribution to biblical theology, if one tries an analysis
in the text oriented way Noort’s proposal implies. This textual turn in
biblical theology, even when it is no longer a completely new project, still
requires a lot of dialogue among both biblical scholars and systematic
theologians.8 It implies that topics of theology are to be regarded as
present in the act of communication in concrete contexts, rather than
in particular religious statements and testimonies made in the texts. That
changes the way biblical theology reads texts. A discussion of the story
of Ahab and Micaiah may demonstrate that.
Exegetical reading and theological interpretation of the story of
 Kings  frequently is triggered by the question that arises from the
reader’s surprise about verse , where it is told that God is consulting

6 See n. .
7 Ibid., .
8 Noort, “Tussen geschiedenis en theologie,” .
 eep talstra

his heavenly court on the question: can we deceive Ahab in order to

destroy him, and if so, who is going to execute this task? The words given
in verse  are: “Who will deceive Ahab, so that he will go into battle and
fall at Ramoth Gilead?”
Can God really be the one who is searching for an instrument for the
destruction of a human being? Is that a statement about God to be read
in this text? Or is verse  not to be read as a statement about God, but
rather to be read as part of an ongoing discourse among a number of
participants?
When working from the classical routine that texts are to be analyzed
in terms of statements about God, one has two options. Some exegetes
will try to protect God from being judged by the reader and they will do
so, either by blaming Ahab himself for all the harm done, or by suggesting
that the narrators describe an older version of Israelite religion where
the problem of God and evil had not yet been analyzed properly. Other
biblical theologians hold that the texts suggest that Israel just had to
live with God being unreliable in his actions. And with the one God
being unreliable, biblical monotheism may be morally problematic as
a religion.9 So, whether one finds reason either to protect God or to
expose God to moral criticism, in classical literary critical analysis the
task of biblical theology always has been perceived as making statements
about God. An exegete should filter from the details of a text its kernel,
its general claim about God, such as: God is in power, he can decide to
deceive people in order to execute his will.10 Modern literary rhetorical
reading developed a method of textual analysis where the emphasis is
solely on the debate between the actual reader and the text in order to
agree or disagree with the general testimony about God found in it, such
as God having a “problematic character.”11

9 R.W.L. Moberly, “Is Monotheism Bad for You? Some Reflections on God, the Bible,
and Life in the Light of Regina Schwartz’ The Curse of Cain,” in The God of Israel (ed.
R.P. Gordon; University of Cambridge Oriental Publications ; Cambridge ), –
.
10 G. Fohrer et al., Exegese des Alten Testaments: Einführung in die Methodik (UTB ;

Heidelberg ), ff.: “Reden von Gott”; O.H. Steck, Exegese des Alten Testaments:
Leitfaden der Methodik (Neukirchen-Vluyn  [th ed.; ]); English translation
of this edition by J.D. Nogalski, Old Testament Exegesis: A Guide to the Methodology
(SBLRBS ; Atlanta ), –, ; see E. Talstra, Oude en Nieuwe lezers: Een
inleiding in de Methoden van Uitleg van het Oude Testament (Ontwerpen ; Kampen
), ch. .
11 Brueggemann, Theology, .
 the truth and nothing but the truth 

However, when looking at the text with an interest in its plot and its
dialogues, one will find that it may not be a good starting point for bib-
lical theology to search for statements or testimonies about God. In this
context, the question raised by Noort’s proposal is important. Can bibli-
cal theology go beyond either ancient religious statements about God or
the modern debate on testimonies about God? That is, should the disci-
pline remain dependent on a choice for one of the dominating exegetical
methods, i.e., either literary critical reconstruction of ancient religious
speech about God or the literary rhetorical interest in conflicting textual
testimonies about God’s character? Or can one try, with Noort, to make
the methods cooperate and cover more ground? In the following sec-
tions, I will try to explore the mutual relationship of exegetical method
and the concept of biblical theology. The question of who is being ana-
lyzed or criticised will be addressed: literary critical analysis and history
of religion implies a test of the text (§ ); a reader oriented analysis of the
texts’ testimonies implies a test of its main character: God (§ ). The study
of the text as discourse, however, in my view implies a test of the post-
modern authority of the reader (§ ). The final question is, can one, as
Noort proposes, integrate these different types of testing in the discipline
of biblical theology?

. Literary Critical Analysis: The Text Being Tested

The question classical literary methods raise concerns who presented in

ancient times, for what reason, a special text as a message to a particular
set of addressees. Often the answer does not refer to one writer since
many texts can be demonstrated to have been composed and recomposed
by a number of authors. Thus the story of Ahab and Micaiah usually
is analyzed as a composite record of various views in ancient Israelite
religion: on prophecy, on the role of the kings in the conflict of Yhwh and
Baal, and on God and evil. Literary critical reading means to analyze a
text for its ancient religious concepts about God and humans. In this way
the text is being tested: is it theologically consistent? Can we explain the
behaviour of the characters in the text; whose interest do they represent?
It is important to note that the proposal by Noort does not at all exclude
the need for an analysis of the Hebrew Bible in terms of the history
of religion, such as an inquiry into the concept of the divine council,
the role of angels and concepts in ancient religion about God and evil,
and how they may be discussed in various ways by different parts of the
 eep talstra

Hebrew Bible.12 Modern rhetorical approaches to the Bible, by skipping

that historical orientation, simply allow the reader too much authority in
confrontation with the texts, to the effect that in the end one has to ask
what it means when a design of biblical theology is located primarily in
the act of reading. Classical literary critical reading detects behind the
text one or more dialogues between various authors or redactors with
their respective audiences, which implies that one has to ask what it
means when biblical theology is located primarily in the act of writing.
Following Noort, one can claim that the analysis of the text in terms
of its redactions is not a principle obstacle for reflections on biblical the-
ology. The original story of Ahab’s death in battle is likely to have been
expanded by redactions addressing the topic of true and false prophecy.
That raises the question: does this make biblical theology equivalent to
a compilation of the religious concepts found in the various redactional
layers in the text? And if not, should one then try to abstract a general les-
son from them? Scholars using literary critical methods of textual analy-
sis usually accept that as a researcher of ancient religion one can proceed
with a theological evaluation of the results found: not all ancient state-
ments about God are acceptable to the modern interpreter. So, is there
a “lesson” that goes beyond these ancient thoughts about God? Where
is, as O.H. Steck would phrase it, “the compelling character of the text
which is not historically limited”?13 That, however, is a research question
fully contrary to Noort’s proposal. He does not think biblical theology
should try to escape from history in order to be able to produce com-
pelling statements about God; rather the completed canon is witnessing
various religious debates by several groups that took place in history. The
points of interest debated, either in the texts or in the process of composi-
tions and transmission are the very material for biblical theology. History
itself is the play, rather then just being its theatre. To experiment with this
line of thinking, let us first explore some lines drawn by literary critical
research of  Kings .
E. Wurthwein, in his commentary to the books of Kings, finds several
literary strata in the text, each of them presenting a different theologi-
cal outlook.14 Basically the story is a pre-Deuteronomistic narrative on

12 Cf. K. van der Toorn et al., eds., Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible (d

ed.; Leiden ), e.g.  (Spirit);  (Council).

13 Steck, Exegese, .
14 E. Würthwein, Die Bücher der Könige (ATD ; Göttingen ; d. ed. of vol. :

; vol. : ), :–,  ff.

 the truth and nothing but the truth 

Ahab’s death in battle at Ramoth Gilead in  Kgs :–, –. Next

he recognizes three different layers in the text of the verses –a. The
first layer (vv. –, –) is about the kings, the interaction of king
Jehoshaphat and the king of Israel (Ahab) and their different reactions to
prophecy. Jehoshaphat is suspicious of the words of the prophets (v. ).
Ahab, however, does not trust the first answer by Micaiah (v. ), even
when it equals the answer of the four hundred (v. ): “Go into battle and
be successful. Yhwh will give it to the king.”
The second layer (vv. –, ) is about the direct confrontation
between Micaiah and Zedekiah. What does it mean to have the Spirit?
Who is the true prophet? The conflict is about the ecstatic evocation of
spiritual powers against the power of the divine word received by the
prophet. Micaiah receives that word by his visions.
The third layer (vv. –) is an inserted narration of the divine con-
sultation in the heavenly court about the question of how to entice Ahab,
which implies that the decision against Ahab has already been made.
Now this consultation is just about the execution: the question of how
to do it. From this section, according to Würthwein, it can be concluded
that the spirit is an instrument of the destruction decided by Yhwh. This
is, in the words of Würthwein, a very ambiguous situation: “Ein höchst
zweideutiges Phänomen.” The story is about Yhwh being determined to
destroy (“die Unheilswille Jahwes”).15 Ahab cannot escape. This makes it
a story of religious instruction: even the prophets of salvation are serving
Yhwh in their act of misleading the king.
One can observe that in the discussion resulting from literary critical
reading the emphasis is on the viewpoint of the characters in the story.
They represent theological positions. What is the role of the prophet and
what is the position of God in ancient Israelite thinking? Is God somehow
causing the fate of Ahab? Is the evil spirit an independent power or in any
way related to God? In view of the study of the history of religion the story
is read as a beginning of a somewhat purer view of God. Yhwh makes all
the decisions, but by the presence of the lying spirit the distance between
God and evil begins to grow.
This concentration on the characters in the story is also present in
other commentaries, such as in the interpretation by M. Rehm.16 Rehm
tries to explain the behaviour of Micaiah in his first, positive answer to

15Würthwein, Bücher der Könige, :.

16M. Rehm, Das erste Buch der Könige: Ein Kommentar (Würzburg ), :
“Mienenspiel, Ton der Stimme.”
 eep talstra

Ahab from a psychological point of view, i.e., the prophet’s body lan-
guage. In this first answer he only plays with Ahab. Micaiah must have
made clear by the way he presented himself and by his voice that his posi-
tive prophecy should not be taken seriously at all. Rehm seems to suggest
that if this story is about true and false prophecy, there should always be a
clear and consistent difference between the two, since both claim to speak
in the name of Yhwh. The lying spirit poses another problem: does evil
come from God? Rehm agrees, it is all the will of God, however, as can be
derived from the role of the spirit, there is some distance kept between
God and evil, so we find here already some purification of the concept
of God.17 Rehm apparently observes a development: a better theology
seems to be on its way.
To J. Gray, the first answer of Micaiah repeating the favourable oracle,
as incited by the officer, only shows how easily prophets could give moral
support to those in power.18 Apparently Micaiah did not yet have a
revelation, so he felt free to prophesy as expected. But, as Gray sees it,
Ahab wants something deeper. So Ahab’s suspicion causes the narrative
to move on. With respect to the lying spirit, Gray offers an explanation
similar to the one by Rehm. It is theology at an early stage of Israelite
religion. The spirit is not Satan, since that is only a post-exilic concept.
The spirit of falsehood is an extension of the divine personality; his
action is intended by God and represents the divine will in the positive
message of the prophets. This is biblical religion at an early date, where,
in Gray’s words, a distinction is not yet found between the positive and
the permissive will of God.
In debate with these interpretations E.G. Dafni holds a different view.19
She is in favour of the original literary unity of the story. The plot is
consistent. In her analysis there is no negative action to be ascribed to
God. Only Ahab himself is to blame for his fate. Knowing better, he still
decides to listen to the positive prophecy of the four hundred. According
to Dafni, Ahab knows that Yhwh is against his plans for battle but he
wants to hear a positive prophecy. Micaiah just behaves like a prophet of
the royal court, but he does so in a “Kontrastverhalten,”20 which was only
meant to provoke the king and his prophet Zedekiah and to illustrate the
difference between human words and the word of God. With respect to

17 Ibid., : “bereits (italics mine) eine Läuterung der Gottesvorstellung.”

18 J. Gray, I & II Kings (OTL; London [] ),  ff.
19 E.G. Dafni, “çåø ø÷ù und falsche Prophetie in I Reg ,” ZAW  () –.
20 Ibid., .
 the truth and nothing but the truth 

the lying spirit Dafni claims that this is an evil power, which is a separate
figure, a visitor, not a member of the divine council. God is not “Urheber
des Bösen”; he does not cause the evil, but he permits it to happen. The
story thus explains the existence of two spirits, one of true prophecy and
one of false prophecy.
Having considered these various results of literary critical testing of
the text for its religious concepts, what is the result for biblical theology?
A literary critical reading seems to feel obliged to present to the reader
an apology of God and his prophet based on the argument that we
read here about early religious concepts of God and evil. The effect
is that the statement about God deceiving Ahab is evaluated as early
Israelite religion and cannot be part of a final concept of Yhwh that is
not historically limited in the biblical theology of the Old Testament. But
why not? That is the question raised by a reader oriented type of biblical
theology.

. Biblical Theology and the Courtroom Metaphor:

God Being Tested

At the other end of the spectrum of methods one finds a concept of

biblical theology that is dependent on a reader oriented analysis and
evaluation of the text. It does not see theology related to a reconstruction
of the text’s historical background and concentrates fully on the reaction
of its readers. It concentrates on the text’s testimony about God in the
final text and it finds that, whatever their historical situation, contrastive
theological statements are presented to the reader of the Hebrew Bible.
Does God, though being creator and liberator, indeed even work with
deception, as  Kings  suggests, and can one thus form this observation
from the text into the general statement that Brueggemann has coined for
it: Israel has experienced that God is unreliable?21 In terms of method one
can see that the text is no longer being tested by the question over whether
there is unity in the plot of the story. Rather the concern is the main
character in the text: God is being tested. The question is raised whether
there is a unity in this literary character. And given the answer no, would
one as a reader be ready to trust this character as presented in the text?
Putting it this way, reading of the Old Testament implies that one enters

21 Brueggemann, Theology, : “deception”; : “unreliable.”

 eep talstra

upon a dialogue or even a confrontation between the religious views one

can derive from the text and modern views on God and religion. The
question this confrontation is about is whether in modern culture texts
about God being unreliable could ever be presented as an acceptable
religious message? Biblical theology becomes a dispute, a court session
between reader and modern society about the value of speaking biblical
words about God.
Thus a reader oriented exegesis leads into a hermeneutics of suspi-
cion:22 can we trust the ideology of the text? No doubt the text tries to
manipulate its reader into a particular point of view. Can one as a reader
accept the way God is being portrayed here? Can one take the liberty
to resist that picture? In Brueggemann’s work this means that a reader
is reacting to God as the main character in the text. The difference with
literary critical types of analysis is that with the conclusion “God is unreli-
able” we no longer see attempts to rescue God from any relationship with
evil. Rather it is an attempt to rescue the reader from having to agree with
or defend the morally disputable elements of the textual character God.
But, similar to what can be observed in literary critical approaches, as
also in the work of Brueggemann, the focus remains on the characters in
the text, not on the text as a discourse. His biblical theology remains in
the area of making statements about God and about the additional char-
acters on the scene. So on the one hand, instead of trying to save God’s
reputation of moral perfection, the reader feels free to admit that we read
in the Old Testament a number of contrasting statements and concepts,
testimony and countertestimony, as Brueggemann has called them. On
the other hand, the question remains: how meaningful is the metaphor
of a biblical theology of testimonies about God that are being discussed
in court, i.e., in modern culture? Can a text, instead of being read as a
completed narrative or discourse, be filtered to find its testimonies about
God? And specifically, what testimony about God is there to be found in
 Kings ?
Brueggemann repeatedly describes how the Old Testament texts pres-
ent God as contradictory, or even as unreliable. The first section of his
Theology, the “Core Testimony,” although it concentrates on positive tes-
timonies about Yhwh, already closes with the statement that Israel has to

22 A.C. Thiselton, New Horizons in Hermeneutics: The Theory and Practice of Trans-

forming Biblical Reading (Grand Rapids ), –, –; M. Oeming, Biblische
Hermeneutik: Eine Einführung (d ed.; Darmstadt ), –.
 the truth and nothing but the truth 

live with the “problematic character of God,”23 for God shows his wrath,
and can even abandon his people for a while and then come back to them
with great compassion (Isa :). In the second part, the “Countertes-
timony,” a whole chapter is dedicated to the theme: “Ambiguity and the
Character of Yahweh.”24 In this chapter the ambiguity seen in God’s char-
acter is labelled in rather strong terms. Brueggemann finds texts that
express abusiveness, contradictory conduct and unreliability. He illus-
trates God acting with abusiveness through reflections on the role of God
and the lying spirit in  Kings .25 In the narrative of the heavenly coun-
cil God is told to act with deception. The verb äúô, meaning to act with
deception and enticement, has sexual overtones, Brueggemann says. It
is often used to refer to manipulative or violent sexual exploitation. The
term is also used in a cultic context. Serving other gods means a violation
of one’s proper loyalty. So, the usage of the term is, as Brueggemann terms
it, “grossly negative,” and he finds it “astonishing that in three cases the
verb is used for Yahweh with such implications,” one of them being  Kgs
:– (the other cases: Jer : and Hos :). Showing the purpose
of the narrative, Brueggemann claims that it wants to “assert Yahweh’s
decisive hostility toward Ahab.” The heavenly court is planning how to
deceive the king and “Yahweh is at the head of the conspiracy.” Clearly
the observed negative overtones of the verb äúô have been the main rea-
son to add the story to the list of countertestimonies. However, can one
do theology by analysing individual words? What about the story as such?
After all, in the end no one seems to be deceived at all in this story. Do
not the words of the prophet prevent the king from being just the vic-
tim of a conspiracy? Thus, it is not correct to make this story part of the
countertestimony based only on a verb related to the role of the main
character.
The role of the prophet in this particular context is not analyzed by
Brueggemann. The position of the prophets is reflected in more gen-
eral terms in Part  of his Theology, called: “Israel’s embodied Testi-
mony” (–). Prophecy is analyzed as one of the religious insti-
tutions described in this section. The prophets’ function according to
Brueggemann’s Theology is to be mediators between God and humans.
The Old Testament texts do report on direct personal encounters of
God; Abraham, Moses, and Elijah are the classical examples. But God’s

23 Brueggemann, Theology, .

24 Ibid., ch. , –.
25 Ibid., –, , quotes:  and .
 eep talstra

presence with Israel is organized through mediators, actually institutions:

the Torah, the king, the prophets, the cult, or teachers of wisdom. With
respect to the task of the prophets, Brueggemann stresses their role
as an opposition movement.26 Prophets evoke crisis where none had
been perceived previously, and they have to act often in opposition to
royal powers, as is demonstrated by Elijah and Micaiah ( Kgs :):
“These prophets must deal with dominant modes of power and dominant
definitions of reality.”
It is interesting to find the role of the prophets in the section on reli-
gious institutions. Clearly they are not to be regarded by Brueggemann
as part of the testimonies but as part of temporary institutions that act
as vehicles of the testimonies about God. In this fourth and final sec-
tion of his book Brueggemann accepts that his metaphor of testimonies
and courtroom has clear limits. We have not only Old Testament state-
ments to be debated and judged. More than language is given here. Apart
from the verbal testimonies about Yhwh, the Old Testament also presents
much nonverbal testimony concerning God. These testimonies are of
importance, since the relationships of God and Israel, God and the peo-
ples, and/or God and creation may be discussed in language, but they are
expressed and made visible in cultural forms and artefacts: social struc-
tures, religious or political institutes, buildings, and practices. However,
according to Brueggemann, these cases of embodied testimony are vul-
nerable; they appear only to exist on a temporary basis. In the closing
lines of the chapter on “Is Yahweh Unreliable?” he remarks, in speaking
of the kingship of David: “Yahweh will make provisional alliances in the
historical process; thus Yahweh may cohere for a time with historical per-
sons, movements, or power arrangements, but only for a time. . . . and in
the end Yahweh’s holiness, glory, and jealousy will not be captured any-
where in creation.”27
The problem with this approach is that it focuses almost exclusively
on the main character of the text: Yhwh, acting in this story as the
head of a conspiracy against Ahab. The interaction between the various
participants of the plot does not seem to be important for the testimony
about God. The prophet only acts as prophets should do: he opposes the
royal power. The royal power itself is evaluated as without defence against
the divine conspiracy.

26 Ibid., , , –, quote: .

27 Ibid., .
 the truth and nothing but the truth 

So the question is, should one not allow the full story to challenge
the reader? Why only allow God’s direct speech (on deception) to be
of importance for biblical theology? Brueggemann does not comment
upon the first answer of Micaiah (v. ) that is equal to the answer of
the four hundred (v. ),28 or upon the king’s reaction to it. Nor does
he comment upon the fact that the prophet does not at all conceal the
conspiracy from the king. Therefore, the question of method should
be addressed again. Should not the discipline of biblical theology, as
Noort suggested, concentrate on the very data we have—that is, textual
compositions and manuscripts made and handed down by particular
religious communities? In search for biblical theology, therefore, one
cannot skip analyzing the processes in the text, i.e., the interaction by
its participants, to be revealed by reading and analyzing its plot. That
includes the implied reader and then also the actual reader: where does
reading this text lead me; shall I accept that position or not? What about
biblical theology and the text as a composition, as a discourse?

. Analysis from a Discourse Perspective: The Reader Being Tested

In terms of method the question is whether biblical theology, apart from

being author centred or reader centred, can also be text centred? This is
not a structuralistic concept of text as a closed world in itself, but instead
text as cultural artefact, which includes interest in the processes of its
construction and the final canonical form of its composition. The various
layers and redactions identified by Würthwein and others may in one
way or another be an acceptable hypothesis of its construction; they also
produced a final text that is to be read as a complete discourse,29 capable
of addressing its reader about the theatre we as readers share with it, i.e.,
the complex world of interaction between God and human beings. The
reader is being tested: can I understand the position where the text tries
to locate me in this complex world? And only after that, can agreement
or disagreement be decided.
A reading that is interested in the plot of the text and in the interaction
of its participants starts the interpretation by asking questions about the

28 M. Sternberg, The Poetics of Biblical Narrative: Ideological Literature and the Drama

of Reading (Bloomington ), ch. : “The structure of repetition,” see –.
29 Cf. E. Blum, “Der Prophet und das Verderben Israels: Eine ganzheitliche, historisch-

kritische Lektüre von  Regum xvii–xix,” VT  () –.

 eep talstra

features that are marking its plot, such as how the various participants
in the text are introduced. What dialogues do we find among them? This
is a reversal of Brueggeman’s paradigm; it is the text that has the status
of a courtroom, ready to test the validity of certain claims the reader
may have about the character of God or about other characters in the
text.
An analysis of the textual structure and its discourse can be made in
dialogue with literary criticism. It does not require that one defends the
original unity of the composition; if transitions or inconsistencies are
present in the text, discourse analysis will identify them. The question it
raises is what happens to the reader when following the plot of the final
composition as we have it in the Hebrew Bible. In other words, what is
being asked from the reader when confronted with the text as discourse?
From this perspective it is useful to ask again what the discourse
function is of the “good” prophecy by Micaiah in  Kgs : and what the
discourse function is of the words of God on deception and the evil spirit.
If one follows the plot of the story presented to the reader by the narrative
frame and the various dialogues in it, one has to question whether there
is really someone being deceived at all in this story.
The following is a summary and some commentary on the dialogues:

V.  the prophets: “Go into battle and Yhwh will give you . . . ”
V.  the king: “Micaiah does not prophesize ‘good’ but ‘bad.’ ”
This implies that the king qualifies the words of the prophets as “good.”
V.  the prophets: “Go into battle, be successful, Yhwh will give you . . . ”
V.  the officer: “the prophets have spoken ‘good,’ so speak ‘good.’ ”
The officer makes the king’s view explicit.
V.  Micaiah: “Go into battle, be successful, Yhwh will give . . . ”
Micaiah speaks exactly the same words as the prophets did in verse .
V.  the king: “Speak ‘truth’ in the name of Yhwh.”
The king does not accept these words from Micaiah’s mouth. The king’s
comment implies: “good” does not equal “truth.” In this way the king
himself introduces a new opposition: “truth” versus “lie.”
When Micaiah then reports his vision of Israel without a shepherd, the
king (v. ) repeats his words of verse :
V.  the king: “Micaiah does not prophesize ‘good’ but ‘bad.’ ”
This implies that the king understands, the “truth” he just asked for
equals “bad.”
With this in mind both the king and the reader of the story will hear
the word of Yhwh, introduced by ïëì in verse , summarized in
verse  after äúòå and presented by the vision of the divine council
in vv. –. The dialogue in these verses elaborates the opposition of
“truth” versus “lie.”
 the truth and nothing but the truth 

V.  Yhwh: “Who will deceive Ahab?”

V.  Spirit: “I will deceive him.” “I will become a spirit of ‘lie’ in the mouth of
the prophets.”
V.  Yhwh: “You will deceive.”
V.  The conclusion after äúòå is:
Micaiah: “Be aware of the fact that Yhwh has given a spirit of ‘lie’ in the
mouth of the prophets, while Yhwh himself (in the second clause the
subject is repeated and fronted) has spoken ‘bad’ about you.”
The good message is a lie, the truth is the bad message.

Interestingly, verse  has been qualified by Würthwein as a possible

addition.30 In terms of textual production I would rather see it as an
integrated part of the final redaction. In any case, for the reader this verse
ties the various narrative threads together: now both the king and the
reader know all they need to know to determine their own position.
How would a biblical theology, reading the text as a discourse, evaluate
the role of the prophet, the role of the king, the role of God and also the
role of the reader? The dialogues present the logic of the discourse, e.g.,
they cause the king (the proper name Ahab is only mentioned in verse )
to demonstrate that he knows exactly what is going on and what the value
is of the two contrasting prophetic positions with which he is confronted.
This effect is achieved by the play of the two oppositional pairs: good
versus bad, and truth against lie. Truth and the word of God is a theme
in the prophetic stories starting with  Kings .31
The function of the first “good” prophecy in  Kgs : by Mica-
iah, who exactly repeats the words of the four hundred prophets from
verse , is that it provokes the king to reveal that he himself knows
about truth and lie. He refuses to accept the good prophecy and he wants
truth “in the name of Yhwh.” By not accepting the good message from
the mouth of Micaiah, even when it is identical to the message of the
prophets he just heard, the king changes the opposition of good vs. bad
used until now into the opposition of truth vs. lie. That creates tension,
since the name of Yhwh is also mentioned by the competing prophets,
e.g., “Thus Yhwh has spoken” (v. ). This means that the repetition of the
prophecy is not a matter of psychology, like creating some delay before

30 Würthwein, Die Bücher der Könige, : “vielleicht nachträglich.”

31 Blum, “Der Prophet und das Verderben Israels.” Blum sees two main themes in chs.
–: i.e., the conflict of Yhwh and Baal, and the position of prophecy and the Word of
God. See  Kgs :: “Now I know that you are a man of God and that the word of God
in your mouth is truth.” In my view this theme continues in ch. .
 eep talstra

the real confrontation starts, or Micaiah teasing the king by being sarcas-
tic. It is functional because it reveals a further step in the plot. Sternberg,
in his Poetics of Biblical Narrative, has dedicated a full chapter to “the
structure of repetition,”32 in order to find in what way various types of
repetition in stories are functional to the plot. In the case of  Kings ,
he sees verse  repeating verse  as a technique of marking the con-
trast with Micaiah’s true prophecy in the next verses. That would make it
an artistic device to cause surprise to the reader. The discourse function,
however, goes beyond that. The reader is not made surprised; the reader
is informed of a next step in the discourse: Ahab is challenged to reveal
his position.
The question arises then whether Yhwh is indeed misleading Ahab.
Is this a story that has to be made part of the countertestimony, since
it is showing a problematic God who can be unreliable? In terms of
discourse it may be more appropriate to ask whether anyone has really
been misinformed in this story.
If the prophet straight from the council of God explains to Ahab that
he is being deceived, is he still being deceived? The text is about choice.
The choice is not about God and evil, but about the action of the prophet
whom God actually charges: tell them all, reveal what goes on in the
heavenly court, tell them the truth about the lies.33 Now that all this
has been made explicit to the king, not just to the reader, and the king
himself has demonstrated in verse  that he is aware that the good
message cannot be the truth, can one still hold that Yhwh is deceiving
the king? The reader does know now where the good message of the
prophets comes from. Ahab, who challenged the prophet to speak, is
being informed at the same time.
It is important not to isolate the words of Yhwh in heavenly court from
the plot of the story. The deception by the lying spirit in the prophets has
been successful, as can be heard in their optimistic prophecy. Ahab is
fully aware of the lack of value of these prophetic words, as can be heard
from his refusal to accept the very same optimistic words from the mouth
of Micaiah. Now he is informed about the background of the optimistic

32 Sternberg, The Poetics of Biblical Narrative, ch. , –, : “verbatim repeti-

tion serves to foreground marked variation.”

33 R.P. Gordon, “Standing in the Council: When Prophets Encounter God,” in The God

of Israel (ed. idem; University of Cambridge Oriental Publications ; Cambridge ),
–; D. Lipton, “By Royal Appointment: God’s Influence on Influencing God,” in
Gordon, The God of Israel, –.
 the truth and nothing but the truth 

prophecy: it is a lie, organized in the heavenly court.34 In this way also

the reader of these dialogues is being tested. One should not be puzzled
about either accusing God or protecting God against the accusation of
a morally wrong initiative, for his prophet tells the truth about the lies.
Rather the question is: what would I do? Am I going to decide against
what I now know myself?
As a result, the story is not about God’s will to destroy Ahab, by making
use of deception. Ahab’s death is not the inescapable fate decided upon
in the heavenly council. In the full plot of the final redaction of the
narrative, the story produces an evaluation of Ahab’s choice to go into
battle (whatever may have been the original setting of the story of the
battle). The king, well informed as he may be, is gambling with prophecy:
we will see who is going to be right. I am postponing a decision and I will
see whether “good” equals “lie” and whether “bad” equals “truth.” In other
words, by going into battle the king actually allows the true prophetic
word to happen, instead of reading it as knowledge urging and allowing
him to change.

. Conclusion

Rather than searching for statements about God, doing discourse analysis
is fully in line with the way Noort wants biblical theology to concentrate
on the Hebrew Bible as a completed text. This means two things. We
read full texts as well-structured compositions, with a logic and a plot,
challenging their readers to take a stand. At the same time we analyze
these texts as historical artefacts, since they are the outcome of a long
interaction of history, traditions of religious speech, and the communities
that formed and used those traditions. Noort called this approach: doing
biblical theology in dialogue with Scripture,35 which means, basic to
his proposal is the analogy of writers and readers. We who read are
in the same process of interaction with tradition as those who wrote:
being challenged by the prophetic word to take a stand. The texts as we
have them represent historical answers to those challenges. No doubt it
requires the skills of an archaeologist to make us aware of that analogy.

34 W. Dietrich and C. Link, Willkür und Gewalt (vol.  of Die dunklen Seiten Gottes;

d ed.; Neukirchen-Vluyn ); Allmacht und Ohnmacht (vol.  of Die dunklen Seiten
Gottes; d ed.; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), see –.
35 Noort, “Tussen geschiedenis en theologie,” .
 MONOTHEISM AND VIOLENCE:
HOW TO HANDLE A DANGEROUS
BIBLICAL TRADITION*

Rainer Albertz

Since September the th, , it has become obvious to everyone in

the world that religiously motivated fanaticism and violence constitute
a dangerous political threat to all human civilizations. And the bomb
attacks on the public traffic system in Madrid and London have demon-
strated that also we here in Europe are directly involved in this new
kind religiously induced cruelty. Being confronted by these alarming
experiences, which cannot be limited to Islamic religion, all theologians
are asked to examine the violent potential of their own religious tradi-
tion.
Often, the monotheism of the Jewish, Christian and Islamic religion
is suspected to have such an aggressive and violent potential. The Ger-
man Egyptologist Jan Assmann from Heidelberg, for example, who has
elaborated the intolerant elements of Pharaoh Echnaton’s monotheis-
tic reform, stated with regard to the Hebrew Bible: “Der Monotheis-
mus erzählt die Geschichte seiner Durchsetzung als eine Geschichte der
Gewalt in einer Serie von Massakern.”1 And he referred to the massacres,
which were told after the veneration of the golden calf (Exodus ), of
Elijah’s murder of the Baal priests ( Kings ), and the forced divorce
of mixed marriages under Ezra (Ezra ). Finally Assmann demands:
“Wenn man die monotheistische Idee retten will, dann muß man sie ihrer
inhärenten Gewalttätigkeit entkleiden.”2

* Ed Noort is one of the leading Dutch Old Testament scholars who always felt

responsible for bringing his vast historical, archaeological, and religious historical in-
sights in contact with profound theological reflections on what the significance of those
insights for present challenges could be. Therefore, I am happy to dedicate this article,
which tries to do something similar, just to him.
1 J. Assmann, Moses der Ägypter: Entzifferung einer Gedächtnisspur (München ),

.
2 J. Assmann, Herrschaft und Heil: Politische Theologie in Altägypten, Israel und in

Europa (München ), .

 rainer albertz

I would like to accept Assmann’s provocation and ask the question,

whether Israel’s monotheistic belief has necessarily violent consequences
and how we could handle its dangerous potentiality in a theologically
responsible way.

. The Origin of Israelite Monotheism

According to the biblical tradition monotheism emerged in the very

beginnings of Israel, when Yhwh revealed to Moses all the Torah on
Mount Sinai including the prohibition of syncretism and idolatry (Exod
:–). This biblical view was accepted by many older scholars.3 How-
ever, during the last thirty years it has been heavily opposed by many
younger scholars,4 who destroyed the biblical picture more or less com-
pletely. According to their opinion, most of the pre-exilic period, the reli-
gion of ancient Israel can be categorized as a polytheistic religion without
any remarkable differences to the religions of its environment. Only dur-
ing the late monarchic period some radical minority groups tried to push
it into a monotheistic direction, but not before the period of exile or even
later monotheism was accepted by a majority.
Looking for the reasons of this new view, three can be named: first,
new archaeological material like inscriptions, icons, seals, and figurines
impressively show that other gods and goddesses than Yhwh were ven-
erated in monarchic Israel.5 I mention only the inscriptions of Kuntillet

3 For example G. von Rad, Theologie des Alten Testaments;  vols. (th ed.; München
), :; W.H. Schmidt, “ ‘Jahwe und . . .,’ ” in Die Hebräische Bibel und ihre zweifache
Nachgeschichte, (ed. E. Blum et al.; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), –, esp. –.
4 See B. Lang, “Die Jahwe-allein-Bewegung,” in Der einzige Gott: Die Geburt des

biblischen Monotheismus (ed. idem; München ), –, esp. –; H. Vorländer,
“Der Monotheismus Israels als Antwort auf die Krise des Exils,” in Der einzige Gott: Die
Geburt des biblischen Monotheismus (ed. B. Lang; München ), –, esp. –;
M. Weippert, “Synkretismus und Monotheismus: Religionsinterne Konfliktbewältigung
im alten Israel,” in Kultur und Konflikt (Frankfurt a.M. ), –, esp. ; repr.
in idem, Jahwe und die anderen Götter: Studien zur Religionsgeschichte des antiken Israel
in ihrem syrisch-palästinischen Kontext (FAT ; Tübingen ), –; R.K. Gnuse, No
Other Gods: Emergent Monotheism in Israel (JSOTSup ; Sheffield ), –.
5 Cf. for example the material collected by S. Schroer, In Israel gab es Bilder: Nach-

richten von der darstellenden Kunst im Alten Testament (OBO ; Fribourg ); O. Keel
and C. Uehlinger, Göttinnen, Götter und Gottessymbole: Neue Erkenntnisse zur Religions-
geschichte Kanaans und Israels aufgrund bislang unerschlossener ikonographischer Quellen
(QD ; th ed.; Freiburg ); Z. Zevit, The Religions of Israel: A Synthesis of Parallactic
Approaches (London ).
 monotheism and violence 

Ajrud and Khirbet el-Qom, which testify the goddess Asherah as a con-
sort and mediatrix of Yhwh, along with the masses of female figurines
found mostly in household or burial context.6 They verify some sort of
worship of the goddess in the Israelite and Judaean family religion. Thus
according to these and other material, Yhwh was worshipped in Israel as
the national god, but along with several other gods and goddesses on the
official, local, and familial level.
Second, we can notice in Old Testament scholarship an increasing
readiness for dating many texts of the Pentateuch that were given a pre- or
early monarchic date before, to a later period. I only mention the denial
of an early Yahwist,7 the dating of the Decalogue in the th or the th
century,8 and the re-dating of the book of the covenant from the pre- or
early state period to the late th or th century.9
Third, in the field of Israelite religion we can notice a general tendency
to say goodbye to the generation, who has heavily been influenced by
Karl Barth’s theology, and to go back to the positions of the th cen-
tury. Already in  Julius Wellhausen pointed out the opinion, which
accords with recent insights: “Die israelitische Religion hat sich aus dem
Heidentum erst allmählich emporgearbeitet; das eben ist der Inhalt ihrer
Geschichte.”10
6 See in J. Renz and W. Röllig, Handbuch der althebräischen Epigraphik ( vols.;

Darmstadt ; ), .:–, –.

7 See for example H.H. Schmid, Der sogenannte Jahwist: Beobachtungen und Fragen

zur Pentateuchforschung (Zürich ); J. Van Seters, Abraham in History and Tradition
(New Haven ); C. Levin, Der Jahwist (FRLANT ; Göttingen ).
8 See for the former, F. Crüsemann, Die Bewahrung der Freiheit: Das Thema des

Dekalogs in sozialgeschichtlicher Perspektive (KT ; München ), ; and for the latter,
L. Perlitt, Bundestheologie im Alten Testament (WMANT ; Neukirchen-Vluyn ),
–; F.-L. Hossfeld, Der Dekalog: Seine späteren Fassungen, die originale Komposition
und seine Vorstufen (OBO ; Fribourg ), .
9 The early dating by J. Halbe, Das Privilegrecht Jahwes Ex ,–: Gestalt und

Wesen, Herkunft und Wirken in vordeuteronomischer Zeit (FRLANT ; Göttingen

), , was independently rejected by F. Crüsemann, Die Tora: Theologie und Sozial-
geschichte des alttestamentlichen Gesetzes (München ), –, and R. Albertz, A
History of Israelite Religion in the Old Testament Period ( vols.; Louisville, Ky., ),
:–; a late dating is now established by Y. Osumi, Die Kompositionsgeschichte des
Bundesbuches Exodus ,b–, (OBO ; Fribourg ), , and L. Schwienhorst-
Schönberger, Das Bundesbuch (Ex ,–,): Studien zu seiner Entstehung und Theolo-
gie (Berlin ), –. The only prohibition of venerating foreign gods, whose origin
is still disputed, is Exod : in the so called “Privilegienrecht” (:–); while Halbe,
Privilegrecht, –, and Crüsemann, Tora, –, still defended a pre-state dating,
Hossfeld, Dekalog, , has pleaded for an early Deuteronomic, and E. Blum, Studien zur
Komposition des Pentateuch (BZAW ; Berlin ), –, for a post-priestly origin.
10 J. Wellhausen, Israelitische und jüdische Geschichte (d ed.; Berlin ; repr. ),

.
 rainer albertz

Anyhow, as well founded as the new position seems to be, it hides a

problem. If Israel’s religion originally was a polytheism like any other, the
question arises, why just only in this polytheistic religion a monotheistic
development could happen at all? We know that in spite of the fact that
many ancient polytheistic religions included some monolatric elements,
none of them tended to become a monotheistic religion. Thus one has
to look for a predisposition in the religion of Israel, which could explain
this amazing exceptional development. Without doubt, Israel’s pre-exilic
religion had clear polytheistic traits, but perhaps it was not polytheism
like any other.
In my view, we can mainly name two characteristics in early religion
of Israel that involve the possibility for a later development towards
monotheism.11 The first has to do with the god Yhwh himself. Having
come from north Arabic desert mountains, Yhwh was a solitaire god;
he had no divine family and was not integrated into a pantheon.12 Even
after being first subordinated to and later equated with El, the Syro-
Canaanite king of gods, from which he inherited his wife Asherah and
his heavenly court, Yhwh kept his special position. The pantheon he
presided was not much differentiated; only a few individual gods like
Baal, Shamsh, Shalem, Zedek, Mot, and Asherah can be identified. In
most cases Yhwh’s heavenly court remains nameless and is called with the
collective term “Zebaoth,” that means “hosts” or “servants” (for example,
Isa :). It looks as if Yhwh absorbed most of the individuality of his
divine companions.13 The gods of the pantheon were never called “sons
of Yhwh,” they remained “sons of El or Eljon” (Ps :; :). That
means that the original childlessness still succeeded, even after Yhwh had
been identified with El. This still effective solitaire position of the earlier
periods made it possible for later reformers to remove Yhwh from his

11 Cf. my earlier studies on monotheism: R. Albertz, “Der Ort des Monotheismus in

der israelitischen Religionsgeschichte,” in Gott allein?: JHWH-Verehrung und biblischer
Monotheismus im Kontext der israelitischen und altorientalischen Religionsgeschichte (ed.
W. Dietrich and M.A. Klopfenstein; OBO ; Fribourg ), –; “Das Rätsel
des Monotheismus,” Welt und Umwelt der Bibel  () –; “Jahwe allein! Israels
Weg zum Monotheismus und dessen theologische Bedeutung,” in idem, Geschichte und
Theologie: Studien zur Exegese des Alten Testaments und zur Religionsgeschichte Israels (ed.
I. Kottsieper et al.; BZAW ; Berlin ), –.
12 See also Lang, “Jahwe-allein-Bewegung,” –; Albertz, “Jahwe-allein,” .
13 See similarly K. Koch, “Die hebräische Sprache zwischen Polytheismus und Mono-

theismus,” in idem, Spuren hebräischen Denkens: Beiträge zur alttestamentlichen Theologie

(Gesammelte Aufsätze ; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), –; esp. –.
 monotheism and violence 

polytheistic frame, without reducing his majesty, which he had won as

the king of a divine pantheon.
The second characteristic has to do with a peculiarity of the relation-
ship to this god. In contrast to the other ancient Near Eastern religions,
the religion of Israel is constituted by a personal structured relationship
between Yhwh and a large group. Yhwh’s most frequent epithet is "elohe
yisra"el, “god of Israel”; it occurs  times in the Hebrew Bible, from the
old Song of Deborah in Judg :,  up to its latest books. That means
that Yhwh was defined on the basis of a larger group of men, a tribal
league or a people, to whom he was related. All the other ancient Near
Eastern religions knew such a personal structured relationship of gods
only in relation to small groups or individuals, be it a family (family god)
and its members (protective god) or the king and his family (god of the
dynasty). However, in the political realm the gods were normally related
to specific towns and countries. These relationships were mainly mate-
rially structured like those to a property, although mediated by the per-
sonal relationship of the kings.14 This difference is also true with regard to
the so-called Syro-Palestine national gods of the st millennium, which
are often compared with Yhwh:15 The stele of the Moabite king Mesha
typically says: “Kamosh (the Moabite national god) was angry with his
country” (KAI , lines –), while Yhwh is always furious with his peo-
ple (for example, Num :, ).
In my opinion, this personal relationship between Yhwh and his peo-
ple emerged in the revolutionary liberation, which we can suppose be-
hind the tradition of the exodus from Egypt.16 As all personal relation-
ships it is characterized by the tendency of a group-internal solidarity
and a group-external dissociation; thus a certain exclusivity is inherent.
Anyhow, this personal religious relationship had originally nothing to
do with monotheism. As far as we can see, firstly it became only effec-
tive with regard to the political and military tasks.17 During the pre-state

14 See already R. Albertz, Persönliche Frömmigkeit und offizielle Religion: Religionsin-

terner Pluralismus in Israel und Babylon (CThM A; Stuttgart ), –.
15 For example by Lang, “Jahwe-allein-Bewegung,” ; Weippert, “Synkretismus,” .
16 See my reconstruction of the origin of Israelite religion: Albertz, History, :–,

which is disputed meanwhile. However, that the exodus tradition was well known at least
in the northern kingdom of the th century is testified by  Kgs :–. I got some
support from F. Stolz, Einführung in den Biblischen Monotheismus (Darmstadt ), –
.
17 It should be remembered that F. Stolz, “Monotheismus in Israel,” in Monotheismus

im Alten Israel und seiner Umwelt (Biblische Beiträge ; ed. O. Keel; Fribourg ),
 rainer albertz

period Yhwh activated the tribes in their fights against their neighbours
(Judges ) and prevented the establishment of a steady political power in
the tribal league (:–). However, the possibility for a later develop-
ment in that direction was given.

. Syncretistic Extensions of the

Yhwh-Religion and Violent Counteractions

Since the establishment of an Israelite kingship the needs of a more dif-

ferentiated society pressed the Yhwh-religion to a syncretistic and poly-
theistic extension. Corresponding to the emerging hierarchical structure
of the Israelite society Yhwh now became a king of a pantheon. Accord-
ing to the king’s claims to leadership, the royal theology pushed Yhwh’s
personal relationship to the king to the fore and moved his traditional tie
to the people more aside (Psalm ; more a compromise:  Samuel ).18
In order to underline the political claim of the new capital, Jerusalem’s
temple theology stressed Yhwh’s close relationship to the city and its state
sanctuary (Psalms  and ).19 Anyhow, how much those religious mod-
ifications corresponded to the needs of societal change, can be seen by the
fact that most of the syncretism, which happened during the early monar-
chic period, was successful; its results were not questioned later any more.
Yhwh’s elevation to the king of gods (Ps :; :) became—although a
syncretistic element—an important prerequisite of monotheism.
Connected with the expansion and the diplomatic relations of the
Israelite kingdoms, the national gods of the neighbour states were sub-
ordinated or related to Yhwh. It is told that king Solomon built sanctu-
aries for Ashtarte, Milkom, and Kamosh, that means for the main god-
dess of the city of Sidon, and the national gods of the Ammonites and
the Moabites, on the Mount of Olives ( Kgs :, , ). As far as we
can see, this diplomatic syncretism in Judah did not cause any problems
and was not removed before king Josiah in the th century bce ( Kgs
:). A similar case happened, when king Ahab built a temple for the
Phoenician Baal in his capital Samaria in order to give his wife Isebel,

–, saw in the political movement of the conquest period the probable origin of the
anti-polytheistic tendency of the Yhwh-religion.
18 For more details cf. Albertz, History, :–.
19 For more details cf. Albertz, History, :–.
 monotheism and violence 

a Sidonian princess, the possibility of venerating her native god. In his

eyes, this act of diplomatic syncretism was an appropriate instrument for
strengthening the political relations to his Phoenician neighbours ( Kgs
:). Thus, we can regard serious internal and external needs in Israel
and Judah that paved the way towards a developed polytheism.
It is one of the exceptional features of the history of Israelite religion
that in the northern state a strong and violent protest rose against the
diplomatic Yhwh-Baal syncretism, although it had to be regarded as a
usual phenomenon in a polytheistic world. So we must have a closer look
at the history and the policy of that period.
King Omri usurped the throne of the northern state after a long period
of internal destabilization and external isolation. He stabilized his king-
dom by founding the new capital Samaria, independent of all tribal influ-
ence ( Kgs :); and he overcame the international isolation by inte-
grating his state into a system of alliances with the surrounding countries
like Judah, Phoenicia, and Aram-Damascus. The most prominent expres-
sion of his active diplomacy was the marriage of his son Ahab with Isebel
(v. ). The military, economic, and cultural success of the new Omride
policy was impressive: in the battle of Qarqar  bce Ahab could muster
, chariots against the Assyrians, more than any other ally. And the
impressive construction of his palace in Samaria and his fortresses in
Megiddo, Jesreel, and Hazor demonstrates the enormous economic and
cultural rise of Israel during this period.
Along with the economic rise a deep social change took place. Tra-
ditional small landowners came under the economic pressure of the
expanding class of officials, officers, and merchants, who became holders
of large estates ( Kgs :). Peasants like Nabot who demonstrated against
the king’s demand on expanding the royal land, were eliminated, even by
judicial murder ( Kgs :–). In such a climate of social conflict the
Yhwh-Baal syncretism, which Ahab introduced mainly because of diplo-
matic reasons, became a symbol for the modern societal development
of the northern kingdom and its international integration, promoted by
those who became its winners and rejected by those who became its vic-
tims.
It is highly improbable that Ahab wanted to abolish or reduce the cult
of Yhwh in favour of Baal. As far as we can see, he promoted an official
dyotheism ( Kgs :), where Yhwh remained to be the national god,
but should be accompanied by Baal, the god of his Phoenician allies.
However, in the eyes of the social victims and conservative opponents
of the societal development, the religious policy of the Omride dynasty
 rainer albertz

looked like as if the king had come under the bad influence of his foreign
wife and was ready to sell off Israel’s religious identity.20
Thus, in my view it was the coincidence of a social conflict and a
manifest foreign religious import that provoked conservative circles to
oppose the official Yhwh-Baal syncretism of the Omride dynasty.21 Not
by chance, the spokesmen of these circles, Elijah and Elisha, came from
the eastern periphery of the northern state, where probably a less devel-
oped form of Yhwh-religion still resisted. Here, Yhwh’s personal rela-
tionship to the people and his original solitaire position was probably
remembered more lively than in the capital. This memory now could
be used to make Yhwh a symbol for opposing the king’s social and reli-
gious policy. The opposition against all what was regarded as injustice
and foreign infiltration could therefore be understood as a fight for Yhwh
alone.
As long as Ahab was firmly in the saddle, the influence of the con-
servative opposition was limited. The prophet Elijah could venture only
smaller conflicts ( Kings –). But as soon as Ahab’s son Joram re-
vealed military weakness against Aram in Transjordan ( Kgs :–),
the prophet Elisha initiated a violent rebellion against the Omride dy-
nasty. He sent one of his pupils to the front in order to anoint secretly
the officer Jehu as a counter-king ( Kgs :–, b). Encouraged by this
religious legitimation, Jehu won the support of companions and did not
hesitate to start a coupe d’état. He raced to the fortress Jesreel, where Joram
recovered from his wounding. When Joram anxiously came out to meet
him, Jehu cold-heartedly shot his lord dead ( Kgs :). Having arrived
at the fortress and being cynically welcomed by Isebel from the tower,
he ordered the courtiers to push her out of the window ( Kgs :). The
blood of the hatred queen-mother, who was seen as the cause of all the
trouble, spattered all over the pavement, and her corpse was crushed by
the horses ( Kgs :). Impressed by those brutal murders, the nobles
of Samaria were prepared to obey Jehu’s demand for killing the whole
royal family, no less than  persons, including all the children ( Kgs
:–).
But the annihilation of the Omride dynasty was not the last target of
the bloody revolt. It aimed at the destruction of the temple of Baal in

20 Jehu’s accusation in  Kgs : verifies the hatred against Isebel, which seems to have

been popular in th century Israel.

21 This evaluation differs a little from my view in Albertz, History, :–.
 monotheism and violence 

Samaria.22 Having arrived at Samaria Jehu invited all priests and followers
of Baal in his temple under the pretext that he would like to celebrate a
great feast in honour of Baal ( Kgs :–); but when the worship was
ongoing, Jehu ordered his elite soldiers to storm the temple and kill all
the worshippers ( Kgs :). Finally, Baal’s sanctuary was profaned, its
building destroyed and its place converted to latrines ( Kgs :).
Without doubt, the Jehu revolution is a startling example of religiously
motivated violence. For the first time the inherent exclusive tendency of
the relationship to Yhwh showed the consequence of religious fanaticism
and intolerance. In connection with political power it could have the
effect of brutal massacres. Regarded as a foreign infiltration, the diplo-
matic syncretism between Yhwh and Baal was violently dissolved. But
the victory of the radical opposition had a high price: The northern state
went into a new political isolation. Jehu was forced to submit to the Assyr-
ians in order to get their support against his neighbours, as we can see on
the Black Obelisk of Salmaneser III. However, Israel was left in the hands
of the Aramaeans without any protection during the next half century.
Thus, under the state conditions the first monolatric attempt led to a dis-
aster of foreign policy.

. Exclusive Veneration of Yhwh as Re-Education

As far as we can see, the religious struggles of the th and th century
bce were less violent. During the last decades of the northern state the
prophet Hosea criticized the cultic and religious abuses, but he fought
with mere words. For the first time he conceptualized Israel’s personal
relationship to Yhwh as a close relationship of love, founded in history,23
which was destined to a similar exclusive character like a human sex-
ual relationship. So he disqualified the veneration of any other god as
ungrateful unfaithfulness and undignified whoring, because it was deeply

22 S. Otto, Jehu, Elia und Elisa: Die Erzählung von der Jehu-Revolution und die Kom-

position der Elia-Elisa-Erzählungen (BWANT ; Stuttgart ), –, has convinc-
ingly shown that  Kgs :– originally belonged to the Jehu story; Ernst Würthwein’s
opposite opinion (Die Bücher der Könige: . Kön. –. Kön.  [ATD .; Göttingen
], –) that the religious passages at the beginning (:–) and the end of the
story (:–) are later additions, depends on the prejudice that the Yhwh religion
could not have been cruel like this and, therefore, is unfounded.
23 According to Hosea Israel’s exclusive relationship had its origin in the exodus or

the wilderness, cf. for example Hos :; :–; this view must be regarded as an
oversimplification, but it is not completely wrong.
 rainer albertz

hurting Yhwh’s feelings (see, for example, Hos :; :–; :–; :).
Likewise the veneration of idols, that was disturbing the intimate rela-
tionship to Yhwh, was absolutely rejected for the first time (:; :–;
:; :). Reflecting the struggle against the Phoenician Baal in the Jehu
revolution, Hosea used the term Baal or the plural Baalim as a cipher in
order to denounce all elements that he regarded as incompatible with his
concept of “true” Yhwh religion. Thus, in most cases, Hosea inveighed
against old Israelite beliefs and cultic elements, when he condemned
them as syncretism.24 Anyhow, drawing the ideal picture of a distinctive
monolatric Yhwh religion, Hosea offered his contemporaries the possi-
bility for defining Israel’s identity by religious means facing a situation,
when Israel’s political identity would have been dissolved.
Probably Hosea’s preaching would not have had any effect, if the
northern kingdom had not been destroyed in  bce. Since his message
had been proved true that the veneration of foreign gods was provoking
Yhwh to destroy his people, influential groups in Judah, next to king
Hezekiah, tried to avert a similar fate for their own state. So they initiated
the new instrument of a religious legislation in order to carry through
a more monolatric shape of Yhwh-religion according to Hosea’s ideal.
In a first step, during the so-called Hezekiah’s reform, an old Yhwh
symbol, the serpent Nehushtan was abolished ( Kgs :). Probably the
so-called book of the covenant (Exod :–:) was the legal basis
for the reform.25 It was written for being read aloud during the worship;
conceptualized as Yhwh’s own word, who entrusted the legal regulations
to every individual, the reformers wanted to educate the community
for a better religious understanding and ritual and ethical behaviour.
Sacrifices for foreign gods were punished by death and confiscation
(Exod :); even mentioning the name of another god during the
Yhwh service was forbidden (Exod :), and the worship was restricted
to those sanctuaries, which possessed an undoubted Yhwh tradition
(Exod :). As severe as the threatened sanctions were, the violence
of monotheism was sublimated by law and transferred into a form of
religious education.

24 For more details cf. Albertz, History, :–.

25 So my thesis in Albertz, History, :–; concerning the theologization of law
cf. E. Otto, Theologische Ethik des Alten Testaments (TW .; Stuttgart ), –;
R. Albertz, “Die Theologisierung des Rechts im alten Israel,” in Religion und Gesellschaft:
Studien zur ihrer Wechselbeziehung in den Kulturen des Antiken Vorderen Orients (ed.
idem and S. Otto; Münster ), –, esp. –.
 monotheism and violence 

This first monolatric reform was not very successful, since Hezekiah’s
revolt against the Assyrians failed in  bce. On the contrary, during
the long reign of king Manasseh many foreign beliefs, religious symbols
and cultic practices from the Syro-Babylonian culture invaded Judah. So
new practices like star-worship and Moloch-ritual, and new gods like
Shamash, Adad-Milki, and Ishtar became very popular.26
When during the second half of the th century the Assyrian empire
declined and Judah became free, a grand coalition of priests, scribes
and prophets under the young king Josiah was well prepared to use
the historical chance for a renewed religious reform.27 Also the Josianic
reform used the mean of law for carrying through the monolatric ideals.
The Deuteronomic law (Deuteronomy –) constituted the legal basis.
Conceptualized by the upper court in Jerusalem as divine law mediated
by Moses, it claimed the highest authority, to which even the king was
subjected. The law aimed at the installation and control of a monolatric
worship of Yhwh in the Judaean society and its purification from all
elements which were regarded as foreign influences. For a better control
of an exclusive worship, the official Yhwh cult was restricted to the temple
of Jerusalem, and all local sanctuaries were abolished (Deuteronomy
).
Without doubt, the Josianic reform was carried through by means
of state power. Priests of other gods and goddesses were dismissed and
expelled ( Kgs :, ), and wrong idols and cult installations were
destroyed and violated ( Kgs :, , –). But no massacre took place
in Jerusalem. More brutal seems to have been the destruction of Bethel,
the competing Yhwh sanctuary of the former northern kingdom ( Kgs
:–). It was the model for the story of the golden calf, the first
apostasy in the wilderness, where many of those who deserted were killed
(Exodus ); but that is to be regarded as a warning example, written
during the period of exile, and has never been reality.28
The sanctions introduced in the Josianic reform were mostly direct-
ed to the inner enemy.29 In the law of Deuteronomy  everybody is

26 Cf. for the astral cult  Kgs :; :–; Jer :; :; Zeph :; for the Moloch-

ritual  Kgs :; :, ; :; :; Isa :; Jer :; :; :; Ezek :–;
:; :, ; for Shamash  Kgs :; for Adad-Milki  Kgs :; for the Queen of
Heaven Jer :; :– for more details see Albertz, History, :–.
27 For more details cf. Albertz, History, :–, and “Theologisierung,” –.
28 See for example E. Aurelius, Der Fürbitter Israels: Eine Studie zum Mosebild im Alten

Testament (CB.OT ; Lund ), –.

29 A tendency of self-isolation can be seen in the prohibition of treaties and mixed
 rainer albertz

threatened by death penalty, who seduces an individual or a whole city

to venerate other gods than Yhwh, may it be because of any prophecies,
dreams or omina (Deut :–). In case of a secret apostasy in a house-
hold, every member of the family is committed to report each other (Deut
:–). A city which apostatizes from Yhwh, is threatened by banning
its inhabitants and total destruction (Deut :–). These regulations
do remind one of the former inquisition in the Catholic Church.30 Any-
how, if one is of the opinion that any kind of syncretism, be it private
or public, can endanger the whole state, such a rigour is understand-
able.
Likewise the Deuteronomic legislation has a strong pedagogical inten-
tion. The legislators created small confessions like the Shema# Yisra"el
(Deut :–) or ethical summaries like the Ten Commandments (:–
), so that every Israelite could learn his exclusive personal relation to
Yhwh by heart. They aimed at re-educating all Israel to become a holy
people doing his will. Therefore the reformers introduced the new idea of
covenant, modelled on political vassal treaties and understood as mutual
self-commitment of Yhwh and his people. Interpreting the relationship
between Yhwh and Israel in such a quasi juridical way, the reformers
created a new instrument of religious self-commitment. Everybody who
belonged to the covenant was obliged to live up to the Torah of Moses vol-
untarily. On this way the religious control was partly internalized. Thus,
the Josianic reformers wanted to carry through the monolatric worship
of Yhwh not only by outer sanctions, but intended it to be done—the
longer the better—because of inner conviction.
So we can point out that in Israel the violent fight against syncretism
and for Yhwh monolatry, as we could see in the Jehu revolution, was
step by step sublimated and internalized by law, education, and self-
commitment. In my opinion, this is the most important progress on
Israel’s way towards monotheism. Israel’s monolatry would not have
been developed without the use of any force, but it would never have
been successful without sublimating the outer force to an individual self-
commitment and an accepted personal belief.

marriages in Deut :–; the law of war shows a more brutal aggression only against the
former inhabitants of the country, who are to be exterminated (:–). Both, isolation
and aggression are founded by the fear of religious seduction.
30 See B. Lang, “Segregation and Intolerance,” in What the Bible Really Says (ed.

M. Smith and R.J. Hoffmann; San Francisco ), –.

 monotheism and violence 

. The Breakthrough of Monotheism

In face of the heavy problems of realizing an exclusive worship of Yhwh

under state conditions, it is not by chance that the breakthrough to full
monotheism did not happen before the end of statehood during the
period of exile. Without the loss of statehood Israel would probably have
kept to monolatry. But since many Judaeans now were forced to live in
foreign countries under the rule of foreign gods, the claim that Yhwh had
been proven to be the only powerful and effective ruler of the world and
that all other gods were nothing at all, as proclaimed by Deutero-Isaiah
(Isa :–, –; :–; :–) and the Deuteronomists (Deut :,
;  Sam :;  Kgs :), became the central message for them with
a consoling and releasing function. However, with the idea of universal
monotheism no political claim on world domination was connected.
Increasing the power of Yhwh to the position of the only creator and ruler
of the world did not involve any increase of political power of Israel; but it
included the destruction of the world power of Babylon with its claim to
absolute right (Isa :–; ). The confession of universal monotheism
did not abolish Israel’s specific relationship to Yhwh, but it obliged Israel
to take a serving and helping task for the benefit of all nations (Isa :–
; :–). Thus the confession of monotheism, rightly understood, did
not include violence against idolatry, but the resistance against the self-
idolizing political power.

. Responsible Use of the Monotheistic Confession

We can summarize: Israel’s way to monotheism was not as much paved

with violence as Jan Assmann claimed. Anyhow, it must be admitted,
there exists a dangerous potential of violence that must be brought under
theological control. Therefore I will add some theological reflections on
a responsible use of the monotheistic confession.
It could be demonstrated that the exclusive veneration of one god, as
far as it is connected with political and military power, includes the dan-
ger of violent intolerance and religious fanaticism which can result in a
bloody massacre against all those, who worship a different god. More-
over, under the conditions of statehood the monolatric community can
easily be driven into political isolation. Monolatry aggravates treaties and
friendly relations to other nations, which worship different gods as long
as the political realm is not separated from the confessional one. So the
 rainer albertz

division of religious and political power is the most important juridical

means of limiting the danger of monotheism. Anyhow, there is no evi-
dence, that Israel and Judah became more aggressive than their polythe-
istic neighbours, since they had introduced a more or less monolatric
worship. Judaism had not many chances to wage war in the past. The
monotheistic aggression was turned to the inner enemy.
However, we have to face that Christian and Muslim states often
used the monotheistic confession in their wars of conquest in order to
legitimize the ruthless killing, examination, or subjection of persons of a
different faith. Therefore I want to make the three following observations:
First, surveying the development of monotheistic confession in Israel
we have to emphasize that the main fight was done for the exclusive
veneration of Yhwh and not for the denial of other gods or religions. That
means, the crucial point of the monotheistic confession must be seen in
the undivided personal relationship to the one God, which corresponds
to his specific close relationship to his people. A disparaging polemic
against other religions or even a struggle against other cultures cannot
be derived from the monotheistic confession of the Hebrew Bible, if that
is rightly understood.
Second, the violent means of the struggle for monolatry are restricted
to those periods, when it was combined with social and political interest.
But even then it must be taken in consideration, that the violence was
mainly directed against the inner opponents, who worshipped different
gods, and against aliens only so far as they promoted foreign cults in
the Israelite society. It is of crucial importance that soon the fight for
monolatry was no longer fought violently, but with the means of law,
education, and religious commitment. Therefore, likewise today, we have
to sublimate the violent potential of the monotheistic religion by juridical
regulations from without and by education and self-commitment from
within.
Third, it is of lasting importance that Israel discovered the monothe-
istic confession, which denies the existence of all other gods apart from
Yhwh, in the period of exile, in a situation of absolute powerlessness. That
means, the use of its monotheistic belief for supporting its claim of world
domination was totally excluded. It was always a theological false con-
clusion, to derive one’s own claim to political power from the power of
the one almighty God, whom one is worshipping. The only God is much
greater and wider than his followers can imagine. Only there, where the
omnipotence of the only god is clearly separated from any political power
of his people, may it be Israel, the church, or the ‘umma, only there, where
 monotheism and violence 

the unavailability of the universal God is guaranteed and his abuse is

excluded, there the theological legitimacy of the monotheistic confession
is preserved. Where these restrictions are not ensured, the monotheistic
confession will be perverted into mere ideology, which tries to provide
one’s own particularistic interest with the glory of a universal religious
dignity.
So there are considerable dangers of misusing the monotheistic con-
fession of our biblical tradition. And as biblical scholars, I think, we are
particularly responsible that any misuse of our biblical heritage is pre-
vented and the necessary theological distinctions are made. We should
emphasize in our classes much more that our biblical God, apart from
his special relationship to his own people, has a likewise positive rela-
tionship to all the peoples of the world, whatever they believe (Genesis
–). And perhaps we should teach our students much more that they
should not refer the First Commandment to the gods of foreign religions
but to any kind of human self-idolization. My father told me about the
high significance the First Commandment got for him during the period
of National Socialism in Germany when he was a young minister of the
Confessional Church. At that time even the pure reciting of its word-
ing: “I am the Lord, your God, you shall not have any other gods beside
of me” during the worship was an act of resistance. It denied the totali-
tarian claim of Adolf Hitler and uncovered the ideology of the German
master race as self-idolization. I think, understood in this way, the clar-
ifying and liberating political effect of the monotheistic belief becomes
clear. Therefore we should never give it up but control it.
 “AND JACOB SET UP A PILLAR AT HER GRAVE . . . ”:
MATERIAL MEMORIALS AND LANDMARKS
IN THE OLD TESTAMENT

Rüdiger Schmitt

. Introduction

Memorials are landmarks, both in the landscapes of reality as in the

landscapes of imagination, as it is often found in th and early th
Century painting.1 Also, in the landscape of Israel as imagined by the
Biblical authors,2 we find memorials both marking the grave or securing
the remembrance of an important person and the claim for the promised
land. Moreover, the Old Testament reports the erection of victory stelae
( Sam :) and stelae as border stones ( Sam :; Isa :). The
memorials for the dead and the victory stelae are named yād ( Sam
:; Isa :;  Sam :), s. îyyûn (sepulchre of the man of god in  Kgs
:) or mas. s. ēbâ (the tomb of Rachel in Gen : and the monument
of Absalom in  Sam :), no matter weather they were used as markers
of tombs or memorial stelae. The term mas. s. ēbâ also appears to designate
a border-stone (Isa :). Also  Sam : mentions the tomb of Rachel
as a landmark. The aim of this study, which I greatfully dedicate to my
Doktorvater Ed, is to examine both the meaning of such memorials in
the landscapes of reality and in the landscapes of imagination, as well as
their function for cultural memory.

1 I would like to point here to some works depicting imagined memorials and sepul-
chres for important persons, which were placed in Arcadian landscapes, often found
in the period of Sensivity in the second half of the th century. See D. Schumacher,
“Freundschaft über den Tod hinaus: Die bürgerliche Kultur des Gedenkens im . Jh. am
Beispiel von J.W.L. Gleim.” (ed. U. Pott, Das Jahrhundert der Freundschaft: Johann Wil-
helm Gleim und seine Zeitgenossen, Göttingen ) with figs. – and cat. nos. –.
2 On landscapes as a feature of religious imagination see the volume edited by J. Hahn:

Religiöse Landschaften (AOAT ; Münster ), herein esp. the article by H.P. Müller,
“Die Kunst der Selbstverwandlung in imaginären Landschaften: Zur Vorgeschichte von
Vergils ‘Arkadien,’ ” –. On Palestine as “mnemotope” see J. Assmann, Das kulturelle
Gedächtnis: Schrift, Erinnerung und politische Identität in frühen Hochkulturen (München
), –.
 rüdiger schmitt

. “And Jacob Set up a Pillar at Her Grave . . . ”:

Rachel’s Tomb at Ramath Rahel in Genesis :–

Still a landmark to this very day and a place of worship transgressing

the boundaries of the so called Abrahamite religions is the tomb of
Rachel at Ramath Rahel. In Gen : Jacob sets up a steleform memorial
(here designated as mas. s. ēbâ) at the grave of his wife, which has died in
childbirth on the way to Bethlehem/Ephrath:
 Then they journeyed from Beth-El; and when it was still some distance
from Ephrath, Rachel was in childbirth, and she had hard labor.
 When she was in her hard labor, the midwife said to her, “Do not be afraid;
for now you will have another son.”
 As her soul was departing, for she died, she named him “Son of my
disaster” (Ben-Oni); but his father called him “Son of the right” (Ben-
jamin).
 So Rachel died, and she was buried on the way to Ephrath, that is Bethle-
hem.
 And Jacob set up a mas. s. ēbâ at her grave; it is the mas. s. ēbâ of Rachel’s tomb,
which is there to this day.
The text contains etiologies both for the name of Benjamin and Rachel’s
tomb, and should therefore be classified as an etiological notice.3 The
tradition about the tomb of Rachel cannot be assigned with any certainty
to any of the pentateuchal sources of the classical model.4 However, the
tradition about a tomb is an old one, as Jer : and  Sam : (but with
a different location) indicate. In its present context Gen :– seems
to be an extension of the Jacob complex comprising the etiologies of the
cult of Bethel and Rachel’s tomb, most likely compiled by the first editor
of the exilic patriarchal history.5
However, the localisation of Rachel’s tomb is not that clear as Gen
: indicates.6 According to  Sam : Rachel’s tomb is to be found

3 C. Westermann, Genesis – (BKAT .; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), , desig-

nates the text as an itinerary with genealogical note, while L. Ruppert, Das Buch Genesis
(Geistliche Schriftlesung AT .–; Düsseldorf  and ), , considers it as an
anecdotic note combined with two etiologies.
4 See J.A. Soggin, Das Buch Genesis (Darmstadt ), ; H. Seebass, Genesis II:

Vätergeschichte II (,–,) (Neukirchen-Vluyn ), .

5 See R. Albertz, Israel in Exile: The History and Literature of the Sixth Century bce

(Studies in Biblical Literature ; Atlanta ), .

6 For discussion see D. Kühn, Totengedenken bei den Nabatäern und im Alten Tes-

tament: Eine religionsgeschichtliche und exegetische Studie (AOAT ; Münster ),
 ff.
 “and jacob set up a pillar at her grave . . . ” 

north of Jerusalem in the territory of the tribe of Benjamin at Zelza, a

place name for which no clear identification could be given.7 This is also
supported by Jer :, which localizes Rachel’s weeping at Rama (er-
Rām) in Benjamin. Most scholars have therefore assumed that the equa-
tion of Ephrath with Bethlehem in Gen :b is secondary, added by
the redactor, or a late gloss.8 Nevertheless  Sam : may be an older
pre-exilic tradition, the competing tradition of a southern localisation in
the territory of Judah has prevailed.9 Thus Ruth : mentions Ephrath
and Bethlehem parallel, and also Mic : identifies Ephrath with Bethle-
hem. In Hellenistic times, Jub. : witnesses Ephrath/Bethlehem as the
place of Rachel’s tomb, and Matt : equates Rama with Bethlehem, thus
harmonizing the two traditions. In Roman-Byzantine times (and later)
the identification of Ramath Rahel is undisputed and witnessed (among
others) by the Pilgrim of Bordeaux10 and in Eusebius’ Onomastikon.11
The Madeba Mosaic map locates Ephrath half the way between Jerusalem
and Bethlehem, and Rama (with the notice that this was the place, were
a voice was heard at Rama), in the vicinity south from Ephrata and Beth-
lehem (fig. ).12
It may be assumed that the shift from the territory of Benjamin to
Judah is intentional, as Bethlehem is the birth place of both David and
the Davidic messiah in Mic : is a focal point for the post-exilic identity.
Thus, several authors have emphasized the importance of the Rachel-
tradition for the identity of all Israel.13 But one must not, like Diebner,

7 There is also some confusion in the textual traditions: some Hebrew manuscripts
have ìöìöá and lxx-L has ν Σηλω ν ΒακαλαB.
8 Cf., e.g. G. von Rad, Das erste Buch Mose: Genesis (ATD ; Göttingen ), ;

Westermann, Genesis –; J. Scharbert, Genesis – (NEchtB ; Würzburg ),
; E. Blum, Die Komposition der Vätergeschichte (WMANT ; Neukirchen-Vluyn
), ; Ruppert, Genesis, ; Kühn, Totengedenken, –.
9 The local Palestinian tradition stills knows a “tomb of the mother of the sons of

Israel” on a summit of the Wadi Fara (map reference . / .), see O. Keel and
M. Küchler, Der Süden (vol.  of Orte und Landschaften der Bibel; Stuttgart ), .
10 See H. Donner, Pilgerfahrt ins Heilige Land: Die ältesten Berichte christlicher Palästi-

napilger (.–. Jh.) (Stuttgart ), . For a summary of the postbiblical traditions see
T. Knopf, “Rahels Grab: Eine Tradition aus dem TNK,” DBAT  ()  ff.
11 Eusebius of Caesarea, Das Onomastikon der biblischen Ortsnamen (ed. E. Kloster-

mann; Leipzig ; repr. Hildesheim ), : 5ΕφραB# χρα ΒηBλεμ . . . FIς πρς
τFI %δED
Bαψαν τν 3Ραχ7λ.
12 H. Donner, The Mosaic Map of Madeba (Palestina Antiqua ; Kampen ), pl.

B. Cf. explanations to map references nos.  and .

13 Cf. Knopf, “Rahels Grab,” ; B.J. Diebner, “Rahels Niederkunft in Bethlehem

und die judäische Vereinnahmung der israelitischen Königstration,” DBAT  ( / )
 ff.; Kühn, Totengedenken, .
 rüdiger schmitt

Fig. : Section of the Madeba Mosaic Map showing

Bethlehem, Ephratha, and Ram after H. Donner,
The Mosaic Map of Madeba (Kampen ), pl. B.

classify the southern occupation of the tradition as a de-legitimation of

the Northern Kingdom traditions and date it in the time of the Has-
monean occupation of Samaria in  bce,14 which is more than unlikely
on the basis of the textual evidence, since the equation of Bethlehem
and Ephrata is already witnessed in Ruth : (and, of course, in Gen
: lxx). It seems more probable that the tradition of the tomb was
adopted and re-located in the period of exile by the editors of the patri-
archal narratives. The tradition of Rachel’s tomb at Ramath Rahel has
a unifying aspect, both in respect to Rachel as the female ancestor as
well of the northern Kingdom as of all Israel and in respect to the spatial
vicinity to the David-tradition of the southern kingdom. Thus, Rachel’s
mas. s. ēbâ became a marker in the mental map of a kind of nucleid area
or mnemotope15 (Bethlehem—Ramath Rahel—Jerusalem) of the all-
Israelite identity. That the exilic authors have used here the term mas. s. ēbâ
without any problems could be seen as an intentional archaisation, that

14 Diebner, “Niederkunft.”
15 Cf. Assmann, Gedächtnis, –.
 “and jacob set up a pillar at her grave . . . ” 

fits well the travesty of the nomadic life of the patriarchs,16 emphasing
the ancient character of this tradition.

. “I Have No Son to Invoke My Name”:

Absalom’s mas. s. ēbâ in  Samuel :

 Sam : reports that the crown prince Absalom has set up a mas. s. ēbâ
in the King’s Valley:
: In his lifetime Absalom has taken and set up a mas. s. ēbâ for himself in the
King’s Valley, for he said: “I have no son to invoke my name.” He named
the mas. s. ēbâ after his own name. It is called Absalom’ s monument (yād)
to this day.
The note about Absalom’s mas. s. ēbâ/yād is a late addition to the story
about the succession to the throne as already Rost has noticed and most
exegetes have followed him.17 This does not generally withstand the
assumption that a tradition about Absalom’s mas. s. ēbâ may go back to
a pre-exilic tradition,18 but more likely to me the post-exilic redactor
refers with “to this day” to a folk association or folk etiology with some
monument of his times.19 The location of the mas. s. ēbâ is said to be
in the King’s Valley. Josephus (Ant. .) locates the valley vaguely
 stades away from Jerusalem and a convincing identification has not
succeeded to this very day.20 However, from the biblical sources it cannot
be concluded that the King’s Valley has been one of the necropoles
outside Jerusalem, as the kings were buried in the city proper. The find
of an ostracon in Jerusalem mentioning twice an ‘mq ydt “valley of
monuments”21 can be seen as a hint that Absalom’s monument may have
also been located here.

16 On nomadic romanticism and travesty see Müller, “Selbstverwandlung,” –.

17 L. Rost, “Die Überlieferung von der Thronnachfolge Davids,” in ibid., Das kleine
Credo und andere Studien zum Alten Testament (Heidelberg ), –. Cf., a.o.,
F. Stolz, Das erste und zweite Buch Samuel (ZBK ; Zürich ), ; P.K. McCarter,
II Samuel (AB ; New York ), ; A. Anderson, II Samuel (WBC ; Nashville ),
; H.-J. Stoebe, Das Zweite Buch Samuelis (KAT .; Gütersloh ), .
18 Cf. Kühn, Totengedenken, –.
19 Cf. T.J. Lewis, Cults of the Dead in Ancient Israel and Ugarit (HSM ; Atlanta ),

; S. Schroer, Die Samuelbücher (Neuer Stuttgarter Kommentar ; Stuttgart ), .
20 For discussion see Kühn, Totengedenken, –.
21 J. Renz and W. Röllig, Handbuch der althebräischen Epigraphik (Darmstadt ),

:E I, Jer():.
 rüdiger schmitt

Different to the mas. s. ēbâ on Rachel’s tomb in Genesis  the mas. s. ēbâ
mentioned in  Samuel  was not set up in an sepulchral context, since
Absalom was according to  Sam : buried in a mere pit covered with
stones without any royal honours right in the wood in which he was
killed. The function of this mas. s. ēbâ is explained in the text, that Abssalom
had no sons for invoking his name (hazkîr šĕmî), so that he had to take
a stone as a material memorial, a yād (lit. “hand”). Even if the text only
refers to an object of folklore, the practice associated with the mas. s. ēbâ
seems to reflect a known practice even in post-exilic times. Nevertheless
the mas. s. ēbâ is not a tombstone, its connection with the care for the dead
is evident. This should not be interpreted in the direction of a kind of
ancestor worship. If this would have been the case we should expect harsh
Deuteronomistic polemics against Absalom’s yād. Scholars often have
made reference to the practice of setting up a stele for the divine royal
ancestor witnessed in KTU ..I. as the duty of the son and the wish
uttered by King Panammu of Zinjirli in KAI : . that his name
should be invoked by his sons.22 But also these references should not
be interpreted in the sense of an ancestor worship, but to the ongoing
social tie between the dead and the living and the duty of the living to
remember the deceased. The practice of invoking (øëæ) the name does
not mean more than to evoke the remembrance and therefore also a kind
of presence of a dead person and not automatically the presence of the
spirit of the dead, as indicated by some authors.23 Interpretations in the
direction of an equation of Absalom’s yād as a symbol for the phallus,
thus magically invoking the powers of male reproductivity,24 are based
on modern popular psychology and are therefore most unlikely.

. “I Shall Give a Monument and a Name . . . ”: Isaiah :–

Also in Isa :–, a material memorial is mentioned to ensure eternal

remembrance, but both the personage as well as the place of erection
differs from Abshaloms yād in  Sam ::

22 McCarter, II Samuel, –; Lewis, Cults, ; O. Loretz, “Stelen und Sohnes-

pflicht im Totenkult Kanaans und Israels: skn (KTU . I ) und jd (Jes ,),” UF 
()  ff.
23 So Lewis, Cults, ; S. Schroer, In Israel gab es Bilder (OBO ; Fribourg ),

; cf. Kühn, Totengedenken, –.

24 Stolz, Das erste und zweite Buch Samuel, –.
 “and jacob set up a pillar at her grave . . . ” 

: For thus says Yahweh: To the eunuchs who keep my sabbaths,

who choose the things that please me
and hold fast my covenant.
: I shall give, in my house and within my walls,
a monument and a name (yād wāšēm)
better than sons and daughters.
I shall give them an everlasting name,
that shall not vanish.
The verses belong to the literary unit :– which is mirrored by :–
 picking up the motif of the remaining name, thus forming a frame
around the composition known as Trito-Isaiah.25 Isa :– reflects the
universalistic tendency of the whole composition Isaiah – with its
openness to foreigners to participate in the covenant of Yahweh and the
salvation by the God of Israel. The dating of the text and its historical
setting are much disputed: some scholars interpret Isa :– as opposing
the rigoristic “reforms” of Esra and Nehemia.26 However, the majority
of the commentators is more careful and sees no direct connection
to the politics of Esra and Nehemiah.27 Nevertheless, the text has, as
Westermann has rightly observed,28 undeniably a tendency opposing the
priestly and law-oriented line of tradition.
Among the foreigners addressed in the unit :– are also the eu-
nuchs, who are after Deut : not allowed to enter the sanctuary. Thus
the prophecy transgresses the exclusive rules and not only opens the
membership of Yahweh’s people to those eunuchs who observe Yahweh’s
rules, but give them a monument in the temple and thereby an everlast-
ing name. As the text indicates, the remembrance of one’s name in the
presence of the Lord in the temple is considered an exceptional honour.
Noteworthy, Isa :– is the only text referring to individual monu-
ments of remembrance in the temple. However, as the text is a prophecy,
one should not search for realia behind it, since there is absolutely no
evidence both written or materialiter pointing to such a practice in the

25 Cf U. Berges, Das Buch Jesaja: Komposition und Endgestalt (Herders Biblische

Studien ; Freiburg ), .

26 E.g. K. Koenen, Ethik und Eschatologie im Tritojesajabuch: Eine literarkritische und

redaktionsgeschichtliche Studie (WMANT ; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), –. For

discussion cf. Kühn, Totengedenken, –.
27 Cf., a.o., J. Blenkinsopp, Isaiah – (AB ; New York ), ; O.H. Steck,

Studien zu Tritojesaja (BZAW ; Berlin ), ; Kühn, Totengedenken, .
28 C. Westermann, Das Buch Jesaja Kapitel – (ATD ; Göttingen ), .
 rüdiger schmitt

Persian or Hellenistic period. One should therefore regard the yād wāšēm
as a monument of prophetic imagination.

. “Saul Went to Carmel, Where He Set up a Monument

for Himself . . . ”: The Victory Stelae in  Samuel :

The monument (yād) that Saul has erected (ns. b Hiphil) for himself
in  Sam : is the only reference to a victory stele set up by an
Israelite king. A parallel is found in  Sam : which reports that king
Hadadezer was defeated by David, as he went to restore his yād at the
river Euphrates (see below under ). The erection of Saul’s yād is told in
the context of the war against the Amalekites in  Sam :–, most likely
a late elaboration of the short notice in  Sam :, and the narrative
about Saul’s rejection in :–. The location of the yād at Carmel
(Khirbet Kirmil, map reference .), approximately  km south
of Hebron, shows that the intention of the stele is to function as a personal
monument of victory and not as a border stele, since the Carmel region
is not immediately adjacent to the Amalekite realm, which is found still
 km further south. However, the addressees presupposed by the texts
are most likely the Judean inhabitants of the Carmel region, molested by
the Amalekites. In its narrative context, the erection of a victory stele for
himself, makes Saul’s offence against Yahweh’s command even worse. Did
 Sam : contain a historical remembrance to an actual monument of
Saul or should the note be assigned as an imagined landmark? As the
notice is closely connected with Saul’s rejection, it is more likely that
it belonged to the author’s imaginary, setting up a landmark of victory
that simultaneously becomes a landmark of tragedy29 for the reader: His
victory is the seed of his downfall. Thus, Saul’s yād became a blot and a
stumbling block on the landscape of Judah and Israel.

. Hadadezer’s Monument at the Euphrates in  Samuel :

In the context of the notice about David’s wars in  Samuel , verse 

informs us about a victory of David over Hadadezer, son of Rehob, king
of Zobah, while the Syrian King was campaigning at his eastern frontier

29 On the discussion about Saul’s tragedy see W. Dietrich and T. Naumann, Die

Samuelbücher (EdF ; Darmstadt ),  ff.

 “and jacob set up a pillar at her grave . . . ” 

“to restore (šwb Hiphil) his monument (yād).” It is widely acknowledged

by scholars that the notices about David’s military successes against the
Arameans are unhistorical and that it is unlikely that he gained control
over the Aramean Kingdoms, even for a shorter timespan.30 Perhaps,
there have been small-scale border conflicts,31 but no occupation or the
force for tributes. Thus, we have to interpret the verse in the context of
the landscape of the Davidic empire imagined by the Deuteronomistic
historian. Hadadezer’s yād becomes thereby the landmark of great Israel’s
north/eastern border.

. Isaiah : “ . . . a mas. s. ēbâ to Yahweh at His Border.”

Isa : mentions a mas. s. ēbâ erected on the border of Egypt together
with an altar which is located in the midst of this country:
: On that day there will be an altar of Yahweh in the midst of the Land of
Egypt, and a mas. s. ēbâ of Yahweh at its border.
: It will be a sign and a witness for Yahweh Zebaoth in the land of Egypt.
When they cry to Yahweh because of the oppressors, he will send them a
saviour, and he will defend and deliver them.
Isa : is part of one of the five oracles about Egypt in Isa :–
each introduced by the phrase bayyōm hahû" “On that day.” A concrete
historical context for the five single oracles with different perspectives of
time could not be given, but most likely they have to been seen as reflec-
tions of the Jewish diaspora in Egypt in the Persian period.32 Also, the
equation of the altar and the mas. s. ēbâ with one of the Jewish sanctuar-
ies witnessed for the Persian (Elephantine) and the Hellenistic period
(Leontopolis; Josephus, Ant. .– and J.W. .–)33 or some

30 Cf. (among others) Dietrich and Naumann, Die Samuelbücher, ; W. Dietrich,

Die frühe Königszeit in Israel: . Jh. v. Chr. (Biblische Enzyklopaedie ; Stuttgart ),
–; I. Finkelstein, “The Rise of Jerusalem and Judah: The Missing Link,” Levant 
() ; N. Na"aman, “In Search of Reality Behind the Account of David’s Wars with
Israel’s Neighbors,” IEJ  () –.
31 Cf. Stolz, Das erste und zweite Buch Samuel, .
32 H. Wildberger, Jesaja – (BKAT .; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), ; W.A.M.

Beuken, Jesaja – (Herders Theologischer Kommentar zum Alten Testament; Frei-
burg ), .
33 Especially the latter tradition, mentioned by Josephus, is younger, as v.  is well

attested in lxx and  QIsa.

 rüdiger schmitt

unknown historical monument,34 is more than unlikely. It is therefore

preferable to interpret the verse in the context of the perspective of over-
timely universal salvation, which is not restricted to Israel alone, but will
also reach Egypt and the Egyptians. Thus, the mas. s. ēbâ at the border of
Egypt is a landmark in the landscape of the world to come, visualised in
the image of a road from Assur to Egypt (:), connecting the north-
ern and the southern boundaries of the known world, which collectively
(Assur, Egypt, and Israel side by side; :–) serves Yahweh. Notewor-
thy, the verse imagines here a mas. s. ēbâ as sign and witness for Yahweh, but
not a yād or simply an "eben at the border. This may be also an intentional
archaisation (since mas. s. ebōt do not play any role both in the post-exilic
cult and are not subject of prophetical polemics) reminding the reader of
the mas. s. ēbâ erected by Jacob (Gen :, ) as a sign of Yahweh’s pres-
ence, and Moses’ altar and mas. s. ēbōt as a witness of the covenant (Exod
:). Furthermore, the altars erected by the patriarchs, which are also
landmarks of the veneration of Yahweh in the land, should be mentioned
(Gen :; :; :; :; :; :; :), as well as the altar of wit-
ness in Josh :–, which also marks the territory of the people of
Yahweh.35 Isa : envisages a cultic veneration of Yahweh, that is not
restricted to the Jerusalem Temple and transgresses the Deuteronomic
cult centralisation and its verdicts in direction of an universalistic vener-
ation of Yahweh rooted in practices and symbols—mas. s. ēbâ and altar—of
old.

. “ . . . a Work That Was Wonderful to See”:

References to Material Memorials in Post-Biblical Texts

Like  Samuel , also Josephus refers to Absaloms monument (Ant.

.), addressing it a stone stelae of marple (στ7λην λBου μαρμαρ-
νου), but has nothing more to tell than his biblical sources. The use of
stelae and comparable elements in the context of funerary architecture
in the Hellenistic period is attested by Josephus in his account on the
sepulchre of the Maccabean family (Ant .).

34 As proposed by O. Kaiser, Der Prophet Jesaja: Kapitel – (ATD ; Göttingen

), .
35 See E. Noort, “Der Streit um den Altar: Josua  und seine Rezeptionsgeschichte,”

in Kult, Konflikt und Versöhnung: Beiträge zur kultischen Sühne in religiösen, sozialen
und politischen Auseinandersetzungen des antiken Mittelmeerraumes (ed. R. Albertz;
 “and jacob set up a pillar at her grave . . . ” 

Simon also erected a very large monument for his father and his brothers,
of white and polished stone, and raised it to a great height, to be seen from
a long distance, and made cloisters about it, and set up monolithic pillars
(στ λους μονολBους), a work that was wonderful to see. Moreover, he
built seven pyramids also for his parents and his brothers, one for each of
them, which were made very surprising, both for their size and beauty, and
which have been preserved to this day.
The custom of erecting commemorative monuments by the son or broth-
er is at least in Hellenistic-Roman times—as also the archaeological
evidence from Jericho shows36—not restricted to royal or highpriestly
tombs, but also occur in tombs of well-to-do families. The pyramids
mentioned by Josephus can be addressed as the individual memorials for
each person of his family and (though not directly indicated in the text)
the monolithic pillars should also be interpreted in the same direction,
thus representing the individuals buried beneath of them.

. Archaeological Evidence

The use of steleform monuments for political reasons, especially as vic-

tory stelae, is undisputed. The material evidence both from Israel and its
Ancient Near Eastern Environment from the st millenium bce is abun-
dant, only to mention the Tel Dan Stele and the Moabite Stone.
Unfortunatly, Israelite Iron Age tombs lack any markers or instal-
lations at the outside and there is also no archaeological evidence for
steleform memorials in other archaeological contexts than burials.37 The
monumental Iron Age tomb monuments of Silwan do have represen-
tative architectural elements, but in this case as an expression of royal

AOAT ; Münster ), –. He summarizes the function of these altars: “Sie
sind neben ihrer normalen Funktion Wahrzeichen des Landesherrn und seiner Verehrer.
Sie bestimmen geographisch das ausmaß des verheißenen Landes. Sie bestimmen ideo-
logisch, welche Gottheit hic et nunc verehrt werden soll. Sie können Teil eines Religions-
streits sein und als solche neue religiöse und politische Verhältnisse schaffen. Sie können
wörtlich Träger der Torah werden und von ihr überflügelt werden” (ibid., ).
36 R. Hachlili and A. Killebrew, “Jewish funerary Customs During the Second Temple

Period in the Light of the Excavations at the Jericho Necropolis,” PEQ  () –
.
37 See R. Wenning, “Medien in der Bestattungskultur im eisenzeitlichen Juda,” in

Medien im antiken Palästina: Materielle Kommunikation und Medialität als Thema der
Palästinaarchäologie (ed. C. Frevel, FAT .; Tübingen ), .
 rüdiger schmitt

power and social status. Thus the biblical and the archaeological evidence
stands square at least for the Iron Age and the Persian period. In contem-
porary Syria and Phoenicia steleform memorials, especially for kings, but
also for common people, were a common feature in the care of the dead.38
Also, in Iron Age Jordan steleform memorials over graves with anthro-
pomorphic features have been discovered at the Wādı̄ Fı̄dān cemetery.39
These stones, which have crude anthropomorphic features like noses and
ears, are of about  cm in height and were surrounded by stone circles,
indicating the position of a cist grave below. It is supposed by the excava-
tors that these monuments may be understood as representations of the
deceased. This interesting find, however, should not be overemphasized,
since it may only reflect a very special local custom.
Swifting to the Hellenistic period the picture is a little bit different
and the above cited textual evidence fits quite well the archaeological.
In the Hellenistic time we find pillars both in the form as relief and also
depicted in wall paintings in Jewish tombs from that period,40 which are
comparable to the Nabataen npš-pillars.41 Evidently, the archaeological
and textual evidence from Roman-Hellenitic time gives witness for the
use of material memorials for the commemoration of the dead.

. Conclusions

.. Material Memorials and the History of Ancient Israelite Religion

Admittedly, as already noticed above, the textual evidence witnessing
material memorials for the dead stands square to the archaeological evi-
dence. Nevertheless, it seems unlikely that the texts referring to memo-
rials of Israel’s ancestors or memorials for the remembrance of the name
of a person are only a product of literary imagination, since memorial

38 For Phoenician funery stelae see S. Moscati, “Stelae,” in The Phoenicians (ed. S. Mos-

cati; Milan ), –; for Syria see J. Voos, “Studien zur Rolle von Statuen und
Reliefs im syrohethitischen Totenkult während der frühen Eisenzeit,” Ethnologisch-Ar-
chäologische Zeitschrift  () –.
39 T.E. Levy et al., “Iron Age Burial in the Lowlands of Edom: The  Excavations

at Wādı̄ Fı̄dān , Jordan,” Annual of the Department of Antiquities in Jordan  ()
–, figs. , , –.
40 Hachlili and Killebrew, “Jewish funerary Customs,” –, and fig. ; H.-P. Kuh-

nen, Palästina in griechisch-römischer Zeit (Handbuch der Archäologie .; München

), .
41 See Kühn, Totengedenken.
 “and jacob set up a pillar at her grave . . . ” 

stelae are well-attested in Ancient Israel’s contemporary neighbourhood.

The traditions connected with the tomb of Rachel and other burial places
which were visited at several calendrical settings (cf.  Sam : –)42
are a strong witness of a practice of commemorating the dead. Also Neh
: reflects the importance of the tombs of the ancestors in the Persian
period. Thus, one should not disconnect the textual references on tomb
and memorial stelae from actual religious practice.
The significance of stelae for the care of the dead has long been
neglected. Accordingly, Gerhard von Rad has strongly denied the reli-
gious significance of material memorials, as in his view Yahwism is
incompatible with any form of the cult of the dead.43 However, what von
Rad considered “cults of the dead” has been a mere distorted picture
drawn by the animistic/dynamistic paradigm of th and th century
scholarship.44 Material memorials functioned as a kind of representation
of the dead, as also the finds from Wadi Fidan indicate, but this is not
to be confused with an identification with the dead spirit or his powers
in animistic sense.45 There is no textual evidence at all that those stelae
were inhabited by a dead spirit or that acts of veneration were performed
in front of them. As Kühn rightly has observed, the kind of presence of
the dead marked by the stelae is not to be understood as a kind of “real
presence,” but as a symbol representing the constant relation between the
dead and the bereaved.46

42 See K. van der Toorn, Family Religion in Babylonia, Syria and Israel: Continuity and
Change in the Forms of Religious Live (Studies in the History and Culture of the Ancient
Near East ; Leiden ), –.
43 Von Rad, Genesis, : “Die Berichte vom Tod und Begräbnis der Ahnen Israels

sind von betonter Nüchternheit und frei von jedem religiösen Pathos. Der von Jakob
errichtete Malstein hat für unseren Erzähler und seine Hörer keinerlei Sakrale Bedeu-
tung; es ist eben der Malstein, der, wie jeder wusste, das Grab der Ahnmutter bezeich-
nete. . . . Der äußere Brauch der Errichtung von solchen Malsteinen hat sich wohl auch
in Israel erhalten, aber in eigentümlich entleerter und verweltlichter Form, da ja der
Jahweglaube jeder Form von Totenkult besonders unversöhnlich den Kampf angesagt
hatte.”
44 B.B. Schmidt, Israel’s Beneficiant Dead (FAT ; Tübingen ), , therefore

states: “Simply put the worship or veneration of the ancestors typically envisioned as
underlying the mortuary rituals of ancient Israel comprises a cherished relic of nineteenth
century anthropology. More to the point, mortuary data formerly identified as indicative
of a primitive or syncretistic Israelite ancestor cult are neither primitive nor syncretistic
nor of the ancestor cult. They witness instead to a variety of indigenous funerary, mourn-
ing and commemorative rites.”
45 Contra Schroer, Bilder, –.
46 Kühn, Totengedenken, .
 rüdiger schmitt

In sum, there is good evidence to assume that the erection of memorial

stelae for persons of political or religious importance was a known prac-
tice in pre-exilic Israel, that has prevailed in Hellenistic times. The texts
referring to those memorials are witnessing that those memorials have
become part of the collective cultural remembrance of Israel, thus being
both markers for religious and political identity in the land of reality and
the land imagined.

.. Material Memorials in the Landscapes of Imagination

Besides the actual ritual practices associated with mas. s. ēbōt and yādōt
as visible signs of commemoration, we find steles in different functions
also in the landscapes of imagination. Westermann has rightly observed
that the stories about the burials of the mothers and fathers of Israel are
linked with space: “Zum Weg der Väter gehören die Gedenkstätten an
die Toten.”47 The linkage of space and the final rest, significantly marked
by a mas. s. ēbâ, is of great importance for the understanding of the claim
of the land. By the erection of imaginary memorials the landscape has
been semiotisized and thereby became a “mnemotope” for the collective
cultural memory and identity of Israel.48 The mas. s. ēbâ erected for the
commemoration of the dead as over Rachel’s tomb in Gen : is also
a landmark in the landscape of the imagination of the author, visualising
a nuclear zone of Israel and thereby embodying an all-Israelite identity.
In  Sam : the mas. s. ēbâ of Hadadezer becomes a landmark of the
borders of an imagined great Israel. Clearly a landmark in the landscape
of prophetical imagination is the mas. s. ēbâ erected at the border of Egypt
in Isa : and the yād wāšēm for the eunuchs in Isa :–. The mas. s. ēbâ
erected in Egypt transgresses geographically the borders of God’s people
to the outside, while the yād wāšēm erected for the faithful eunuchs in
Isa :– in the house of Yahweh transgresses the internal borders of
Yahweh’s people. Moreover, the use of the term mas. s. ēbâ in Isa :,
referring to an (pseudo-) archaic custom of the patriarchal age links back
the landmarks in the landscapes of imagination back to the patriarchal
age. Finally, the stele erected by Saul in  Sam : becomes a landmark
of tragedy in the story of Israel’s first king.
Summing up, material memorials, stelae, mas. s. ēbōt and yādōt, not
only serve as landmarks, tomb markers, media of profane and religious

47 Westermann, Genesis –, .

48 Assmann, Gedächtnis, .
 “and jacob set up a pillar at her grave . . . ” 

memory, but they are also markers in the landscapes of imagination with
a variety of meanings, which transform the landscape of reality into a
mnemotope for the cultural remembrance, and both the religious and
national identity of Israel.
 THE FASCINATION FOR THE
HOLY LAND DURING THE CENTURIES

C.H.J. de Geus

Every visitor to the Holy Land quickly realizes that he is not the first
traveller to Palestine. Many thousands have made this same journey
during the centuries before us. The old churches, the Western Wall
that Christians call the Wailing Wall, the remnants of hospices, the
pilgrims crosses in the churches at Bethlehem and Jerusalem, yes even
the remarkable continuity of olive wood souvenirs still sold today in the
Holy Land, are all persistent reminders to the modern visitor of the many
that came here before him. Why have so many before us set out for the
Holy Land? What attracted them to that land, far away at the eastern end
of the Roman Empire? Or, later, at the far end of the Christian world?
And still later under the rule of “unbelievers” in that land? Why did this
land preoccupy their meditations, prayers and studies of the Scriptures,
in their churches, monasteries and convents, in their schools, synagogues
and at home?
I will address these questions, but with two restrictions. In the first
place, I am aware of the fact that the expression “Holy Land” appears
only after the Crusades, in the thirteenth century. But the idea behind this
expression, i.e., a land consecrated and purified by God and given a spe-
cial status, is much older. We find this notion already in the biblical books
of Numbers and Joshua. Also expressions such as “Holy City” (Jerusalem)
or “Holy Place/Ground” go back to biblical times. Secondly, I will deal
exclusively with the Western fascination. Seen from Jerusalem, people
drawn to Palestine came from the East, the North, and the South as well.
Several European pilgrims have expressed their astonishment over meet-
ing with so many pilgrims from so many unknown countries: Christians
from Armenia or Ethiopia, Jews from as far as Persia and Yemen. In this
paper, I will primarily restrict myself to the Dutch situation.
During the Byzantine period, the Netherlands barely existed as such,
and “Palestine” denoted an area much larger than nowadays. The Greek
Patriarch of Jerusalem still bears the title “Head of the three Palestines.”
And for centuries it was normal for travellers to Palestine to include in
their journeys, if they could afford to do so of course, places such as
Catherine’s Monastery in Sinai, or Aleppo and Edessa in Syria. But the
 c.h.j. de geus

main destination was always Jerusalem. More or less systematic Christian

pilgrimage started with the work of Eusebius of Caesarea († ). His
Onomastikon was meant for pilgrims and for the study of the Bible. The
greatest importance of Eusebius for my subject is that he succeeded in
turning the interest of a typical Western emperor, Constantine, born in
our parts, at Trier, firmly to the East and to Jerusalem. Eusebius would
not have written his Onomastikon if pilgrimage to the biblical lands was
not already a standing tradition. For Jewish Europeans the trek to the
Holy Land was much older still. Before the destruction of the Temple in
 ce they were used to coming to Jerusalem in great numbers to attend
the High Festivals. Even though it became increasingly difficult for them
to travel to Israel after the destruction of the Temple, and Jerusalem itself
was out of bounds for a long time (after ), they still came; to Hebron or
Tiberias and later to Sefat too. We are reminded of these earliest pilgrims
by the many ampullae, small bottles made of clay, sometimes glass, used
to bring home holy oil from the Holy Land. Some of these ampullae have
been stamped with Christian or Jewish symbols. What did they come for?
What were their motives?
There are two differences between the pilgrimages of Jews and Chris-
tians. For Jews the land is literally the terra promissionis, to live there is a
mizwe. As a consequence many of them did not bother to return, whereas
returning was very important for the Christian pilgrim, as we shall see.
Secondly, the land of Israel is the only place where the Torah can be lived
completely. For pious Jews this is also today a very emotional subject.
Their main destination was the land, and Jewish life, while for the Chris-
tian pilgrim the main purpose was the mystic experience, as is still the
case with many travellers to Israel.
The early Christian pilgrims, therefore, already came for the same rea-
son as all their successors: to be as physically close as possible to the places
where it all happened. They came to see, to touch, to feel, to smell. They
came not only for the life and passion of Jesus Christ, but at first per-
haps even more for the remains of the martyrs and confessors of the Holy
Church. We must realize that the persecution of Christians under Diocle-
tian took place at the beginning of the fourth century, only two decades
before Nicaea ( ce)! This persecution was much more severe in Africa
and in the Near East than it was in Western Europe. When Egeria trav-
elled through Palestine at the end of that century she was not successful
in meeting a living confessor, but only their children or grandchildren
and many people who claimed to have known one, long ago. During the
next centuries a very important motive was to bring home relics of the
 the fascination for the holy land 

martyrs. In Europe during the centuries preceding the Crusades monas-

teries, cathedrals, and churches were going up at a rapid pace. It was the
period of Romanesque architecture in stone and brick, replacing older
structures built in wood. All these new ecclesiastical buildings needed
relics. Pilgrims were the main source of this relic trafficking. As a martyr
was believed to have gone straight to heaven, his mortal remains were
more or less considered as up for grabs.
There were also two more motifs for going to Palestine: first, the
rituals and the music in the Palestine churches, especially the liturgy
in Jerusalem. Apparently this was much more impressive and more
beautiful than that at home. A second reason was to see the ascetics;
ascetics living on the fringes of the desert, fighting Satan and living from
practically nothing. This fight was preferably not conducted in solitude:
the presence of an audience was often highly appreciated. Some of them
were perhaps more like Indian fakirs. In general, monastic life was much
further developed in the East than in the West, and early travellers
expand on the lauras and early monasteries.
All travellers had in common the long and dangerous journey behind
and ahead of them. Even if most of the journey was done by boat.
Surviving such a trip, having seen all the holy places, and bringing
home precious relics, brought the pilgrims great prestige afterwards.
There were also more worldly and even inferior motives. Jerusalem was
considered the centre of the world. Europe and the churches of the
West were oriented to Jerusalem and the East. This mysterious East
attracted many, and the stories of the great wealth in those countries were
plentiful. Pilgrims were not immune to such desires: especially the baths
of Ascelon and the gastronomic delights of this fashionable town were
not always passed over. But in general the interest in the country as such,
or in the local people was minimal. Egeria notes that the population of
Jerusalem did not fast on Saturdays and Sundays, like she was used to at
home. Remarks about nature or topography are restricted to subjective
criteria: a road was far, or difficult, even dangerous, but never beautiful
or interesting, except when there were many holy tombs, trees, springs
or caves with hermits to be seen. A point of interest is the frequent
observation that pilgrims often had changed when they came back, after
one or two years. Famous is the complaint by “our” Bonifatius that “some
of these women set out as respectful ladies and come back as whores.” An
early example of the Jerusalem syndrome?
The Crusades made pilgrimage temporarily easier and safer. In the
Holy Land hospices and hospitals were built for the pilgrims. Pilgrims
 c.h.j. de geus

began travelling in groups, partly for safety, but also because everything
was better organized. As this was the period in which Western theology
began to emphasize the sufferings of Christ, the search for and trade in
relics went on as never before. This theological movement that sprung
from the abbey of Cluny strongly advocated pilgrimage to the Holy Land.
Some of their leaders personally guided groups as large as  people to
Palestine. Until approximately the year thousand, the assignment to use
the force of the sword to defend Christendom was the task of king and
emperor. But from the tenth century onwards it was gradually consid-
ered to be more the task of the knighthood instead. The Crusaders, there-
fore, were both soldier and pilgrim. Their real interest was in the country
and in its potential. After all they came to the Holy Land to stay. Besides
their religious and military endeavours, they built all kinds of irrigation-
works, farms and industrial installations: one product, for example, that
was very popular in Europe was cane sugar. They were interested in the
inhabitants of the country as well and studied their agricultural and con-
struction techniques. Some learned to speak Arabic and befriended Arab
leaders. There were several cases of Crusaders marrying local women.
In these years much information about the Middle East reached West-
ern Europe, arousing a scholarly interest that was to stay. This is where
we find the roots of the European oriental studies. From the mediaeval
court of the counts of Holland at The Hague receipts have been preserved
for the fodder for a lion and a camel: one liked to surround oneself with
Oriental rarities.
After the defeat of the Crusaders, pilgrimages were officially forbidden
by the popes, but were tolerated after paying money to the Holy See.
Pilgrimages were even better organized at this time: after all, one now
had to travel through enemy-country. The pilgrims came in small groups,
often with a professional guide, who joined the group at Venice. In
Palestine Franciscan friars awaited them to give them strict instructions
on what they could do and what they must absolutely try to avoid. The
friars acted so to speak as guarantors for the pilgrims. Further they settled
everything with the local officials, meaning paying bribes. Then, after a
delay of some days they set out on mules and travelled in two or three
days to Jerusalem. They went from hospice to hospice; every deviation of
the official route was strongly discouraged. Also in Jerusalem they began
a two-week program in which contact with local people was avoided,
except than for buying souvenirs.
If a pilgrim had the means he could embark on a larger tour, to Sinai
for instance, but in the thirteenth to fifteenth centuries more often to
 the fascination for the holy land 

Galilee. There the Sea of Galilee, Mount Tabor with the Church of the
Transfiguration and Nazareth were the most popular destinations. From
later mediaeval times written reports were made by many pilgrims after
their return. Most of the reports in fact repeat what was already in the
handbooks for pilgrims that were widely used. Many handwritten copies
of these reports and handbooks have been preserved. Modern students
who look at the drawn maps in such books for the first time notice the
many numerals on such maps and ask: where is the key to those figures?
But the numerals refer to indulgences. The mediaeval pilgrim was on a
hunt to collect as many indulgences as possible in the short period of
his stay. He carried a pilgrim’s book in which all his “credits” were noted.
Besides the indulgences the pilgrim could expect an important raise in
status when he returned home. He would wear his pilgrim’s token for
the rest of his life and often he would join a brotherhood of Jerusalem-
travellers. A good example of this is the Dutch painter Jan van Scorel
who, in the sixteenth century, became a founding member of such a
brotherhood in Utrecht, after a visit to the Holy Land in  / .
Members of the nobility received the accolade in the Holy Sepulchre and
became Knights of the Holy Sepulchre. The pilgrims had a busy time in
the Holy Land; as a consequence there were not many occasions to freely
wander about through the country. Some travellers, however, noted the
Druse as a distinct tribe. Others were struck by the enormous numbers
of storks in their migration. One cause of great astonishment was again
and again the discovery of Muslim pilgrims at some of the same holy
sites, for instance in Jerusalem at the tombs of David and Solomon. Some
pilgrims record with utmost perplexity that they had met with English
and German moslims in the service of the Turkish sultan! Encounters
with Jewish pilgrims were obviously avoided. I found one short remark by
another Dutchman, who had asked a rabbi what he thought of Palestine
being in Turkish hands now and so many Jews living outside the country.
The rabbi answered him: “that is because of our sins.” Whereupon the
Dutchman wrote in his diary: “the man was obviously ashamed of the
real cause: their murder of Christ”!
During the sixteenth century, when the country was firmly in Turkish
hands and travelling became safer, many more pilgrims came as a result.
The Dutchman De Vos discovered at the end of the sixteenth century
more than , European pilgrims in Jerusalem for an Eastern pilgrim-
age. Large encampments with tents were provides by the Turks.
Pilgrimages were undertaken not only out of a personal conviction or
compulsion. Sometimes people were forced to set out on a dangerous
 c.h.j. de geus

journey to, for instance, Santiago de Compostela or the Holy Sepulchre

in Jerusalem as an alternative for capital punishment. Van Herwaarden
collected many instances of Dutch people setting bets on the chances of
a happy return.
A further reason for the increase in interest in the Netherlands for
the Holy Land, was the mystic movement of the Modern Devotion. This
movement stressed individual Bible studies.
At the end of the Middle Ages the fascination with the East and its
great wealth diminished. The greed turned to the West! There was the
gold! But there were immaterial treasures to be had in the East: the hunt
for manuscripts and ancient books and objects of art and antiquities,
other than relics, was in full swing from the Renaissance on. In this
the Holy Land only played a secondary role. The European immigrants
to the Americas in the th and th centuries took the Holy Land
more or less with them. Innumerous new settlements received Biblical
names.
Under Mameluke rule the situation in the Levant had been rather
orderly. Their special interest for Jerusalem is well-known. The Levant-
trade became more and more important and Jewish communities in the
diaspora held hopes for the resettlement of the country. I remind the
reader of the blossoming of Sefat in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries
and of the settlement experiments of the famous Dona Gracia of the
Mendes family in the sixteenth century. European Jews often settled in
Hebron, also the main destination of many Dutch Jews. The situation
was even better under the Turks, from  onwards. A reflection of this
can be seen in the great excitement that came over European Jewry as
a result of the actions and preaching of Sabbatai Zvi. After his failure,
Jewish communities stayed in touch with the Holy Land through the
emissaries that were annually sent from the holy cities. During the next
centuries travelling to the Holy Land continued.
From the fifteenth century on Bibles were being printed and became
more and more the book par excellence in the Protestant countries of
northwest Europe. The printed Bible was used at home, in the church and
in the schools. And from  on, when the first map was printed in a
Zwingli-Bible, maps were generally added to Bibles. Dutch printers were
especially famous for their Bible-maps. As a result they were copied by
printers in Germany and England. Bibles were read by practically every-
body and nearly all the time. And the Bible is of course very much tied
to the land of the Bible. The Old Testament contains more than a thou-
sand toponyms: the book of Joshua alone over . Maps were added to
 the fascination for the holy land 

the Biblical text where they were needed, and so invariably we find them
with Joshua. Maps were also added to parts of the Bible that were con-
sidered especially dull, another reason why a map to the book of Joshua
was well studied! This also explains why many readers became familiar
with Biblical topography. Many editions of the Dutch Staten-Bible are
clearly ambiguous: the map to Joshua, with many toponyms is correctly
posited, and in the notes to the text many interesting remarks on the
geography and history can be found. The introduction, however, states
clearly: “Joshua is Hebrew for Jesus, who will show us the way to the heav-
enly Canaan.” As an anecdote I recall here a dispute at Geneva between
Servet and Calvin. The draftsmen who made the maps simply drew all
toponyms mentioned in Joshua on one map, without the slightest idea of
chronological order. Servet asked himself: “How could so many people
have lived in all these towns in a region that is known as desert-like?”
But for Calvin this was just proof that the land of Juda was extremely
fertile in biblical times: literally “flowing with milk and honey.” The nine-
teenth century saw the appearance of wall maps, the first official chart
of the Netherlands dates from .1 Soon they became standard in all
the classrooms and from the second half of the century maps of Canaan
were added. This is even before maps of the Dutch colonies appeared! I
want to expand a little on this conceptualization. Europeans were famil-
iar with Biblical illustration. Paintings with scenes from the Bible could
be seen in almost all the churches. From the Middle Ages onwards pic-
torial Bibles were quite common. But the countryside or the cities on the
paintings was the Dutch and more often the Italian landscape. Jan van
Scorel, whom I mentioned above, painted an entry of Jesus in Jerusalem:
it shows a very exact view of the city of Jerusalem in the background,
while the foreground is Italian. The painting can be seen in the Central
Museum at Utrecht. But in another painting now lost but which we know
through a drawing by a pupil, Van Scorel had painted the entry of the
Israelites in Canaan and the crossing of the river Jordan. The landscape
is the lush countryside of northern Italy again. This phenomenon can be
observed in many depictions of Palestine in the nineteenth century: on
the one hand rather exact and accurate with architecture, but idealistic
and romantic on the other hand with nature. It is remarkable to see an
English artist like David Roberts, who visited the Holy Land in , still

1 I owe this information to the Nationaal Onderwijsmuseum (National Education

Museum) Rotterdam.
 c.h.j. de geus

doing the same. Fierce disputes arose when drawings and paintings began
to appear in Europe in the nineteenth century with a more realistic
picture of the desert-like neglected country. Discussions comparable
with those between Calvin and Servet took place within many Jewish
communities of Europe. The first secular novel in Hebrew, the “Love for
Zion,” "ahavat zion, from , by Avraham Mapu, is set in the green
landscape of Southern Europe, even though the story is about people
from the time of Isaiah. Paintings by British painters such as Horne
and Carne also suggest the same. In strong contrast with these paintings
are the first photographs of the Holy Land, for instance those taken by
participants of the first expeditions of the Palestine Exploration Fund,
from  onwards. It is my conviction that even these photographs
were subjective, these men were so stricken by the arid and desert-like
appearance of the Palestinian landscape that it inspired them to take
photographs that showed a desolate country. I am convinced that many
places in Palestine were in reality greener than those early photographs
suggest.
I hope to have made three things clear: there never was a rediscov-
ery of the Holy Land, as many book titles suggest. In this respect Pales-
tine cannot be compared to Egypt and Mesopotamia. The Holy Land was
always present in European and American culture. A few thousand trav-
ellers wrote books on their experiences in the Holy Land and they all
found readers and buyers. An unknown American minister, the reverend
M. Thomson, published his book The Land and the Book in  and sold
over two hundred thousand copies. An enormous amount in those days!
“Innocents Abroad” was Mark Twain’s best selling book! What was redis-
covered, however, from the nineteenth century on, were many aspects of
the country’s past.
My second point is that practically none of the non-Jews came to Pales-
tine for the land itself, they came for religious reasons, to increase their
status, even to achieve freedom or to escape severe punishments. And
when rational research started in the nineteenth century, they worked for
the purpose of illustrating the Bible or for a better understanding of the
Bible. Men such as Gustav Dalman in his description of the farmer’s lives
in Palestine were exceptions. The fascination for the Holy Land remains
a highly personal and subjective emotion!
My final point is that the emotional problems many Europeans had
with accepting the cruel reality of Palestine was that this made it so
concrete that the Holy Land was essentially different. It was outside
Europe. Up till then, paintings had given the message that the country
 the fascination for the holy land 

was like home. It belonged to our world. At the formation of the Palestine
Exploration Fund in  the archbishop of York spoke as Joshua: “walk
through the land in the length of it and in the breadth of it. This country
of Palestine belongs to you and me.”

Bibliography

T.D. Barnes, Constantine and Eusebius (Cambridge, Mass., ).

Y. Ben-Arieh, The Rediscovery of the Holy Land in the Nineteenth Century (Jeru-
salem ).
J. Brefeld, A Guidebook for the Jerusalem Pilgrimage in the Late Middle Ages
(Hilversum ).
G. Dalman, Arbeit und Sitte in Palästina, vol. . (Gütersloh ).
J.W. Drijvers, Helena Augusta: The Mother of Constantine the Great and the
Legend of Her Finding of the True Cross (Leiden ).
C. Erdmann, Die Entstehung des Kreuzzugsgedankens (Stuttgart  = Darm-
stadt ).
S.A. Fortner and A. Rottloff, Auf den Spuren der Kaiserin Helena: Römische
Aristokratinnen pilgern ins Heilige Land (Erfurt ).
J. van Herwaarden, Opgelegde bedevaarten in de late Middeleeuwen (ca.  –
ca. ) (Assen ).
E. Houtzagers, Jan van Scorel (Cat. Centraal Museum Utrecht; Utrecht ).
K.S. Howe, Revealing the Holy Land: The Photographic Exploration of Palestine
(Santa Barbara ).
E. Laor, Maps of the Holy Land (New York ).
A. Maalouf, Les croisades vues par les Arabes (Paris ).
H.V. Morton, In the Steps of the Master (London ).
E. Noort, Israël en de Westelijke Jordaanoever (Kampen ).
W.C. Poortman and J. Augusteijn, Kaarten in Bijbels e–e eeuw (Den Haag
).
J. Riley-Smith, The First Crusade and the Idea of Crusading (London ).
N. Shepherd, The Zealous Intruders: The Western Rediscovery of Palestine (Lon-
don ).
N.A. Silberman, Digging for God and Country: Exploration, Archaeology, and the
Secret Struggle for the Holy Land, – (New York ).
J. Simons, Opgravingen in Palestina (Roermond ).
M. Wahba, “An Anger Observed,” Journal of Arabic Literature  () –
.
B. Wasser, Nederlandse pelgrims naar het heilige land (Zutphen ).
J. Wilkinson, Egeria’s Travels to the Holy Land (Jerusalem ).
———, Jerusalem Pilgrims before the Crusades (Warminster ).
 BEDOUIN POETRY AND LANDSCAPE*

Eveline J. van der Steen

Copy, o clerk! Whatever verses are fitting—

As long as the lock of my heart, o clerk! Is open—
Word following word, as when small locusts drive and are driven
And link the plain with the ridge of each enclosing slope.
. . .1

. Introduction

The relationship of the people with the land has an important place in the
history of Israel as narrated in the Old Testament. The land of Israel has
some revealing epithets: it was the land of the fathers, the land that God
promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, but it was also the land flowing
with milk and honey, it was the land that God had given to the Israelites,
albeit not unconditionally, as they would soon find out.
It was contested land: Canaan, the territory of various groups of people
called “Canaanites.” In spite of God’s promise, they had to fight for it, and
conquer it. They never held it in peace for long. Eventually, as exiles, it
was the land that they wept for, by the rivers of Babylon.
The relationship that the Israelites had with their land is reflected in
their poetry, some of which has made its way into the Bible. It is expressed
in many different ways, sometimes direct: references to the land of the
fathers, the land given by God, sometimes more subtle, in metaphors that
reflect this bond. The Song of Solomon is full of such references to the
land: the beloved is black but comely as the tents of Kedar (:); a cluster
of henna in the vineyards of En Gedi (:); the rose of Sharon, and the
lily of the Valley (:), the roe on the mountains of Bether (:); her hair
is like a flock of goats, on the side of Gilead (:).
There are some striking similarities between the poetry found in the
Bible, and more recent bedouin poetry from the same region, that has
been collected and recorded by travellers.

* I dedicate this paper to Ed Noort, in gratitude and friendship.

1 Transl. A. Musil, The Manners and Customs of the Rwala Bedouin (New York ).
 eveline j. van der steen

In what follows I want to look at this recent poetry to see what it tells
us about the relationship of the poet and the land. I shall look at various
aspects of the landscape, and how these are observed and expressed by
bedouin poets. They may reflect and help us understand the relationship
that the early and later Israelites had with their land.

. Landscape and Archaeology

Landscape has become an important section of the archaeological dis-

cipline in the last decennia. The various ways landscape has been and is
studied in archaeology have been outlined by Wilkinson.2 Most archae-
ological studies of landscape apply the “classic” cultural-historical and
processual methods—i.e., scientific methods, making use of absolute and
quantifiable data to formulate general laws about human behaviour—
both of which look at and analyze the landscape in a detached and “scien-
tific” way, using historical as well as exact and quantitative data and mod-
els of economic maximization. At the same time, Wilkinson points out
that the post-processual, phenomenological approach can add an impor-
tant dimension to the interpretation of archaeological landscapes. The
post-processual approach looks at the way landscape is experienced by
the people who live in it, or pass through it, and how this may have influ-
enced the interaction between landscape and people. It turns the land-
scape into a carrier and a receptacle of power, identity, memory, and reli-
gious meaning.

. Bedouin and Poetry

Rural and bedouin Arab society has long remained largely illiterate. As a
consequence, oral transmission of information has always played a very
important role in rural life. Much of this transmission of information was
in rhyme, so that, according to Clinton Bailey, every bedouin “lives in
a culture replete with rhyme” from childhood onwards.3 Proverbs and
sayings, of which there are many, are in rhyme; at celebrations such
as weddings ba"id (sing. bida), improvised songs, were composed to

2 T.J. Wilkinson, Archaeological Landscapes of the Near East (Tucson ), –.
3 C. Bailey, Bedouin Poetry from Sinai and the Negev: Mirror of a Culture (Oxford
), .
 bedouin poetry and landscape 

accompany the dancing, but also more complex and serious matters were
entrusted to lines of poetry. In most cases these poems took the form of
the qasida, a classical genre of Arabic poetry that predates Islam. The
Mu"allaqat, the seven most esteemed classic poems of pre-Islamic times,
are qasa"id. Even in those pre-Islamic times the qasida was considered
literary, elevated poetry, as opposed to the more common, day-to-day
rajaz poetry, which was short and quick, improvised, and often rather
rustic. This difference was not only reflected in the more complex form
of the qasida, but also in the elevated language, and in the more serious
subjects and profound emotions that were expressed in them. Bailey has
noticed the same difference in present-day ba"id versus qasa"id.4
The significance of bedouin poetry, the short verses, qasa"id, ba"id,
and the ghinnawa described by Abu-Lughod5 is that it enables the poet
to express feelings and thoughts that are taboo in normal, day-to-day
interaction.6 Many poems are created in a mood of despair or grief. They
are meant to comfort as well as express the emotions that cannot be talked
about in normal conversation, certainly not by men.
There is, however, another aspect to it, which has been stressed, in
part, by Musil in his description of bedouin poetry.7 This is the imagery it
uses, and which is representative of daily life, of the bedouin campsite, the
desert. The poetry reveals, through its descriptions and metaphors, how
the poet experiences the landscape and its features, whether campsite
or village, and the interaction with others on a daily basis. This is the
phenomenological approach, the expression of personal experiences and
memories of the poet; yet in spite, or perhaps because of this, it gives an
insight in the function of the landscape, both natural and man-made, in
the life of tribal societies.
Poetry as a form of communication played an important role in daily
life and in the interaction between people. Anybody could write poetry,
it was seen as a social skill. During parties and feasts, participants were
expected to contribute to the festivities and add a line or two to the bida,
the song that was sung to accompany the dance. These lines were simple,
the subject direct, referring to the situation, and often erotic. The only
requirement was that the line rhymed with the previous one.8

4 See Bailey, Bedouin Poetry, – for the structure of the various genres.
5 L. Abu-Lughod, Veiled Sentiments: Honor and Poetry in a Bedouin Society (Berkeley
).
6 Bailey, Bedouin Poetry, –; Abu-Lughod, Veiled Sentiments, .
7 Musil, Manners and Customs, passim.
8 Bailey, Bedouin Poetry, –, –.
 eveline j. van der steen

Poetry also played a role in politics. Until very recently most bedouin,
including the chiefs and even judges were illiterate. Some sheikhs had
secretaries who could read and write, but often messages to other chiefs
were conveyed by messengers, and in the form of a poem. The genre
used was usually the qasida.9 These poems have a particular prelude: a
description of the messenger, or more often his camel or horse, and of the
journey from the sender to the receiver. This introduction represents, as
it were, the envelope with the address (see below).
Great warriors were often also renowned poets, and a reputation as
poet enhanced their status as a leader. The most famous warrior/poet
of recent times was Nimr al-Adwan, th century sheikh of the Adwan
in the Belqa, of whom many stories were told. Some of his poetry (little
of it was written down) has survived in collections by Henry Spoer in
various publications;10 and some have been published by Alois Musil. In
pre-Islamic times Antar, the warrior hero of the epic Sirat Antar, was a
famous poet. He was author of one of the seven Mu"allaqat. There were
many more; but little of their poetry has survived.
Professional poets did exist, particularly at the various tribal courts in
Arabia. On a different level travelling poets, who worked as professional
entertainers travelling from camp to camp and writing eulogies for their
hosts in return for rewards, were also known, but they did not stand in
high regard.
Bedouin or tribal poetry has been collected and translated by a num-
ber of scholars, sometimes systematically and thematically, sometimes as
incidental illustrations. Because the poets themselves rarely put their cre-
ations in writing, these collections and translations are all that is left of
the oral traditions of the th century.

. Landscape as Memory

According to Grunebaum “it becomes evident that, on the whole, nature

means considerably less to the Arab than to the occidental artist, both
as source and as object of his inspiration.”11 When we look at Arab and
bedouin poetry, it is clear that nature is rarely admired, or described,

9 S. Sowayan, Nabati Poetry: The Oral Poetry of Arabia (Berkeley ), –.
10 H.H. Spoer et al., “Poems by Nimr Ibn Adwan XXI–XLIV,” JAOS  () –.
11 G.E. von Grunebaum, “The Response to Nature in Arabic Poetry,” JNES  ()

– at .
 bedouin poetry and landscape 

simply because of itself, of its intrinsic beauty. Nature, landscape, when it

is described, always has a specific meaning, has a message to convey, rep-
resents something else, a quality or an emotion. Even in the particularly
beautiful Adwan poem that describes the Belqa (see below) the beauty of
the land derives from the meaning it has for the poet, as his lost territory.
A common theme in bedouin poetry is the description of deserted
campsites in the desert, and the memories they invoke of the camp that
once stood on this site. These are primarily love-poems, with a theme
that is rooted in pre-Islamic bedouin poetry. It often formed the nasib, or
prelude, of a classical qasida, which then went on to describe the qualities
of the loved one, who had lived in the deserted camp.12 Most of the seven
Mu"allaqat start with the image of the deserted campsite invoking the
image of the departed lover.
The theme has carried over into modern times, and remained an
important subject in bedouin poetry. Alois Musil has collected many of
these bedouin poems, mostly written by members of the Rwala tribe (of
the Anaze confederation) with whom he travelled for a while.
The central theme is that of the poet returning to a campsite where he
once lived and loved. Now, while the campsite is deserted, he invokes,
through the imagery of the campsite, the memories of his lost love.
The poet of the following qasida was a negro encamping with the
Amarat (Anaze), who fell in love with a Bedouin woman and was driven
from the camp by her relatives. They threatened to kill him if he returned
to their encampment. So he waited until the inhabitants had left, before
returning.
I lament for my kinsmen, O people! I am not among those who are
abused,
For I think that one who laments for his kinsmen deserves not abuse.
I reached the spot where the herds used to rest and where my heart was
light,
Where stood the tents of beloved friends and uncles.
This is the fireplace with the small pit half covered in,
And the spot where so often rested the coffee pots from Damascus.
Here always were tied up their horses
With the white circle round their eyeballs and their heads almost four-
cornered
They departed like a falcon whose head has been turned by yearning for
flight, circling
Above a broad ravine, so that no man can tell where it flies.

12 Ibid., .
 eveline j. van der steen

Their nearest camping places are between Shetata and Lamlum

Their farthest where the ostriches are hatched.
If you reach their territory, bring tidings unto my friends who are amid
enemies
Behold! Tidings are for men what hamz pastures are for camels.13
The poem describes the standard features of a duwar or circular tent
camp: a central place for the herds, surrounded by the tents of the
members of the tribe. The interior of a tent, with the dug-in hearth for
the coffee pots, the tent-post onto which the horses were tethered.
The next qasida, also recorded by Musil, is of a more allegoric nature,
and brings the landscape to life, by treating it as a friend, someone to talk
to.
The poet of this qasida was a member of the Fed"an tribe, who went
on a raid against the Shammar. He was wounded and taken prisoner, and
when he finally returned to his camp, after six months, he found that his
wife, whom he loved dearly, had fallen ill and died. The Fed"ani went to
the camping place where he had last been with his wife, and composed
this poem.
...
I went into the encampment of our comrades and to the spot where the
herds had passed the night,
And I found where their coffeepots had rested, and these brought back
much to my mind.

O camping place! Mourn not for the thing which has passed away and
vanished;
After a year, o camping place! Hope and wait.

She left me, o camping place! Like the full moon when its luster wanes.
And when she departed, o camping place, she asked not for my coun-
sel.14
In the third qasida in Musil’s collection the allegory has been fully devel-
oped. This poem was written by a black slave. He left his master to serve
another, and left his beloved in the service of his former master. But he
could not forget her, and after a year went to seek the old campsite.
...
“O camping place! O camping place of my beloved with thick long
lashes!

13 Transl. Musil, Manners and Customs, .

14 Ibid., .
 bedouin poetry and landscape 

Thou wert deserted, and afterwards, O camping place of my darling!

Thou wert covered with densely growing plants.
I ask thee concerning my friend, whither went she?
I tarry with thee as a true guest and shake thy right hand, that thou
mayst tell me the truth.”

The camp replied: “Thy beloved departed in the direction towards which
I face, and hastened,
So that between her and us there extend territories which fill the riding
camels with terror.
If thou acceptest my counsel concerning thy friend, then seek a new one
. . . ”15
The campsite has come alive, it has become the host of the poet, and
a dialogue develops. The transitory nature of the bedouin camp and of
life in the desert is stressed not only in its description, as deserted and
covered with plants, but also in the “advise” of the campsite, as the host
of the poet, to forget and move on. The campsite comes to stand as a
symbol for the transience of relationships in the desert and of life itself.
This theme can also be found in one of the Mu"allaqat: the poem of
Antar:
The vestige of the house, which did not speak, confounded thee, until it
spoke by means of signs, like one deaf and dumb.
...
Oh house of "Ablah situated at Jiwaa, talk with me about those who
resided in you. Good morning to you, O house of "Ablah, and be safe
from ruin.16

. Landscape as Territory

Descriptions of landscape in bedouin and Arab poetry almost always rep-

resent something else. Sometimes it is special features such as campsites,
or mountains or water, or the beauty of the land that evoke memories and
emotions in the poet, and he uses those features to express his emotions
of love, anger, fear.
The group cohesion, the sense of belonging, what some would call the
ethnicity of a tribe (#asabiyyeh in Arabic), was based on the perception

15 Transl. Musil, Manners and Customs, .

16 Transl. F.E. Johnson, “The Hanged Poems,” in: Ancient Arabia (vol.  of C. Horne,
ed., The Sacred Books and Early Literature of the East; New York ); (http://www.sa-
cred-texts.com/isl/hanged/hanged.htm; last accessed October , ).
 eveline j. van der steen

of kinship relations. It was not dependent on a specific place, a country

or a region. Nevertheless tribes had a strong bond with their territory.
Territory, in a functional sense, is the land that is controlled by the tribe,
where it has the first right of use of resources, where it can deny access
to others. In an emotional, ideological sense, it is the homeland; it is
where one’s ancestors, one’s roots are. Gertrude Bell has captured this
relationship in the following description:
“By God!” said he, “the plain is covered with places wherein I rested.” He
had struck the note. I looked out beyond him into the night and saw the
desert with his eyes, no longer empty but set thicker with human asso-
ciations than any city. Every line of it took on significance, every stone
was like the ghost of a hearth in which the warmth of Arab life was
hardly cold, though the fire might have been extinguished this hundred
years. It was a city of shadowy outlines visible one under the other, fleet-
ing and changing, combining into new shapes elements that are as old
as Time, the new indistinguishable from the old and the old from the
new.17
Being outside one’s territory, in that of another tribe, gives a feeling of
insecurity that is felt even by the camels.
...
The old camels were not content with a long and quiet rest
Nor cared for any pastures.
Having examined the land of the strange tribe,
They came again to the land of their owners.18
Sometimes circumstances forced a clan or a tribe to seek refuge and
pasture with other tribes. But even then, when they had every right to
be there, they would feel uprooted and confused, being among people of
different habits, with different dialects.
Forced by drought in the land
To seek refuge among peoples of twisted tongues . . . 19
Territories were often contested, particularly after droughts, or as a result
of political conflict. In those cases often a battle was fought over the terri-
tory in question, complete with a declaration of war. The following poem
was such a declaration of war, from the chief of the Weld Suleiman (of the
Anaze confederation) to Mislit, chief of the Tuman (of the Shammar).

17 G.M.L. Bell, The Desert and the Sown (London  = ), .
18 Transl. Musil, Manners and Customs, .
19 Abu-Lughod, Veiled Sentiments, .
 bedouin poetry and landscape 

The poem starts with the classical prelude of the journey of the mes-
senger, and then conveys the message, brief and to the point:
...
You will alight by the camp of Mislit, the scion of noble ancestors; tell
him to quit his land; we wish to take possession of it.
We wish to graze our camel herds there . . . 20
The Belqa, east of the Jordan, was famous both for its grazing grounds and
for its farming lands. John Lewis Burckhardt quotes a Bedouin saying,
that said: “Methel el Belka ma teltaka . . . thou canst not find a country like
the Belka.”21 It was a region that was hotly contested between the Adwan
and the Beni Sakhr, ever since the latter’s first inroads into Transjordan
in the beginning of the th century. The Adwan were primarily farmers,
although they lived in tents, the Beni Sakhr were pastoralists, breeders of
sheep and camels. Nimr al-Adwan, the famous leader/poet of the Adwan,
fought the Beni Sakhr over control of the Belqa several times during his
lifetime. When he was old, the Beni Sakhr once again took control, and
Nimr complains:
...
O my district, in thee was a shepherd of sheep made sheikh, and a vile
one
And after me beggars were made shuyukh, in preference to me . . . 22
The emotional bond that members of the tribe had to their territory,
is expressed in a beautiful poem recorded and translated by Andrew
Shryock.23 It was composed by Sha"al Abu Mismara, slave-poet of Sheikh
Hamud Saleh al Adwan, in , after they had been driven into exile by
the Khrayshe, a section of the Beni Sakhr. They were living in Ajlun and
yearned for their homeland.
I climbed Gar Najda at the break of day.
A mountain atop all other peaks ascending.
O my country, mother of desolation and rugged terrain,
The streams pour toward you from every wadi.
How lovely in my country is the hooting of owls
When you arrive at dawn, their echoes are calling

20 Transl. Sowayan, Nabati Poetry, .

21 J.L. Burckhardt, Travels in Syria and the Holy Land (London ), .
22 Transl. H.H. Spoer et al., “Five poems by Nimr al-#Adwan,” JAOS  () –

at .
23 A. Shryock, Nationalism and the Genealogical Imagination: Oral History and Textual

Authority in Tribal Jordan (Berkeley ), .

 eveline j. van der steen

Over there is Imshaggar, and that is Hisban,

And yonder is Yajuz, the light of my lands.
When the east wind blows and winter begins,
We come, o valley of abundance, at an easy pace
O my country, in you there is always good health,
And the rains fall and gather, flowing in their path.
And when our companions divide after gathering,
Each goes in search of a cool summer place.
The son of the Khraysha declared war out of shame
Puffing himself up in a way that was not real
Rise up O Hamud, Rise up and stab the foe!
O leader of the sixty, attack the thousand!
We’ll settle on our ground and pitch our tents forever
Amid the smells of pasture and peppergrass commingling.24
This poem explores all the senses in summoning the emotions and mem-
ories that tie the tribe to its territory. The views of the valleys, the sound
of hooting owls, the smells of pasture and peppergrass together recre-
ate the landscape. Memories are evoked of the autumn migration to the
“valley of abundance” (the south Jordan valley) and of the spring migra-
tion up into the mountains. Emotions of longing are used to challenge
the Adwan leader to rise and recapture the land, even though he has only
sixty men.
In the th century the Arabian peninsula was torn between the
houses of Ibn Rashid and Ibn Sa"ud. Territory changed hands more than
once, but the inhabitants were not always willing to change their loyal-
ties accordingly. Muhammad Abdallah al-Oni was born near Buraidah,
in Sa"udi territory around . After his home village had been taken
by Ibn Rashid many of his compatriots fled to Damascus and elsewhere.
Muhammad al-Oni, who served Ibn Sa"ud, wrote a poem that was meant
as a war-cry, rallying the exiles to come and fight and regain their home-
land from Ibn Rashid. In it, al-Oni describes the territory first as a fair
maiden, unparallelled in her beauty; but then he changes his tune, and the
homeland becomes the alma mater, the mother who fed and protected
her children, and who has now been deserted by them.
A homeland in Najd that was once a haven, a refuge sought by those
burdened by hard times.
She resembles a fair chaste maiden; in her beauty my homeland out-
shines all fair maidens.
The covetous lower their eyes when they pass by her; they fear the gallant
youths who grow up in her courts.

24 Transl. Shryock, Nationalism, .

 bedouin poetry and landscape 

She is our mother—oh how sweet was her flowing milk; she nourished
us, she raised us, we are her children;
She is kind to us; no mother is so devoted to her children as she is to us;
she is loving, but we are ungrateful.
We wear silk and satin while she is naked; she wails and cries, but none
takes pity on her.
No one expressed indignation when she was stripped of her clothing;
and no one cares what befell her after that.
Oh, I sigh and say, “how disheartening!; woe to us; how can we bear to
watch our mother being violated before our eyes?”25
Poems such as these were part of the history of the tribe and often played
a key role in conquest stories. The sheikh of the Adwan, with his sixty
men, raided the Beni Sakhr and reconquered the Belqa for his tribe.
The exiles in Damascus and elsewhere were rallied by Muhammad al-
Oni’s poem and returned to reconquer their territory.
A pastoralist tribe’s territory changed with the season. With every
migration they had to reclaim it, finding the best resources, outsmarting
other clans or tribes, or sharing. In summer, the clans would more often
camp together, sharing the limited water sources. In winter they split up
into smaller units, to take full advantage of resources.
The following lines were written by a village sheikh, who described the
departing of a friendly tribe that camped near his village in summer, to
their winter pastures.
The herds spread out in the countryside on their way to a pasture which
the scouts have recommended.
The camp is left desolate; it has reverted to wilderness, with wolves
howling about.

This is the time when people in love go different ways, each taking a
separate road, following the camel herds.
If you should inquire about the whereabouts of anyone, no one could
give you an answer. Even camel riders traveling desert roads could not
give you a sound report.
The tribal chiefs are restless like stud camels in the rutting season,
constantly foraging in the desert. A whole week passes in travel, no
time to pitch a tent.
Each strives to reach the pasture before the other herds arrive and
trample it; there they will let graze their camels heavy with sweet milk.
. . . 26

25 Transl. Sowayan, Nabati Poetry, .

26 Transl ibid., –.
 eveline j. van der steen

As a result, there could be numerous small campsites, not too far

from each other, and the choice of a campsite was also influenced by the
presence nearby of these other camps.
A poem, recorded and translated by Bailey, describes the process of
choosing a new campsite, and the different aspects that it involves.
I rose and climbed a mountain dry, the greenery there had still not
shown;
So putting shoes to both my feet, I sought a spot where pasture had
grown.
When I came to high Ghadir, that mountain thick with shrubbery lay;
So we broke camp, got under way, and stopped at Asbah’s tomb to pray.
Then in ‘Agida, second day, a camp site we’d select,
When some said: those who are camped nearby treat neighbors with
respect . . . 27

. Landscape as Metaphor

How the various aspects of the landscape are perceived by the people
who live in it, and are part of it, becomes particularly clear in the use of
metaphors.
The metaphorical use of the campsite as a host to the traveller has been
outlined above. Like the image of the campsite, that of the messenger
forms the formal opening of a certain type of poem. It is used for poems
that are to convey a message to a specific person. The metaphor can
be very elaborate, describing both the valor of the messenger and the
nobility of his camel or horse, both of which are meant to emphasise the
status of the sender, as well as that of the recipient. Descriptions of the
landscape through which the messenger carries his message are also used
to convey various aspects of the poem itself: its urge, importance and
meaning. Often, as in the case below, it includes praise for the receiver.
O thou who ridest a she-camel whose back has almost to be climbed by a
ladder
(whose speed is) like clouds of dust in the blue air, raised by startled
ostriches
Or like pigeons longing to roost in the castle
Who hasten thither after the noon heat has passed
O messenger! O thou who speedest to the hosts
Thou canst not help seeing a fire like a big lamp

27 Transl. Bailey, Bedouin Poetry, .

 bedouin poetry and landscape 

It is a tent that calls thee, where sit and talk the visitors,
And to whose owner no one comes to collect a tax
. . . 28
The following fascinating little poem was composed in the s to
announce the safe arrival of a shipment of smuggled hashish from Egypt.
It is full of metaphor, partly traditional, partly specific to the message.
Lightning flashed over Goz Khlelat
I saw it and thought it the Pleyades’ sign
She poured forth her rain sprouting grasses so high
Filling wells at the spring after these had run dry.

O Rider racing along hidden ways,

Far from all souls, be they friend be they foe,
Tell Jazi a camel passed bearing his sign
If he thinks that she’s thin, assure him she’s fine.

And to Jazi and gang my greetings convey;

This news, good or bad, is what I have to say.29
The lightning and the first sighting of the Pleiades sign generally an-
nounce the coming of the first rains, and the season of plenty. It is used
here to announce good news.
The rider has to ride hidden ways, since he carries news of smuggled
goods, and has to avoid any encounter with the authorities.
The metaphor of camel pastoralism is used here to describe the ship-
ment itself: the camel bearing Jazi’s sign—the camel mark that signifies
ownership—is a fine camel; the load is a good one.
Wild animals were often used in metaphors. Ostriches symbolized
speed in many poems:
Hail, you rider on a speedy mount that runs like a terrified ostrich on
level plains . . . 30
Birds of prey, falcons or eagles, were symbols of valour and attack in war
A wild falcon took off, followed by horsemen and cameleers, seeking to
despoil the enemy and attack him unawares.

O Gab, the eagles of Shammar swooped over you, they snatched your
head . . . 31

28 Transl. Musil, Manners and Customs, .

29 Transl. Bailey, Bedouin Poetry, .
30 Transl. Sowayan, Nabati Poetry, .
31 Ibid., .
 eveline j. van der steen

and deer and gazelle played a role in love poems, symbolizing the
beauty of a woman.
...
Her neck, o "Agab, o neck of the gazelle!
The neck of the timid female antelope in the desert land . . . 32
Scent, particularly of flowers and herbs, played an important role in love
poems:
You are the perfume of a sweet basil growing by the rain pool; wherever
the wind blows, it carries your fragrance.
You are sweeter than peaches, pomegranates, figs, apples and apricots
from Basrah.33
In many ways, the metaphors used in love poems, both for men and
women, could have come straight from the Song of Songs. The metaphors
are often the same (although it would be hard to find Solomon describe
the mother of his beloved as “a Mauser shot”).34

. The Changing Landscape

The poems collected and translated by Clinton Bailey in the Sinai are gen-
erally very recent, and therefore reflect the society of the th century. In
many of these poems the metaphors and imagery are almost seamlessly
adapted to the newly developing landscape, using images of high build-
ings, cars and Mausers to express emotions and messages. But that does
not mean that the old landscape, with its old images and features, dis-
appeared in the memory of the poets. The following poem, recorded by
Bailey, laments the changing landscape and expresses a yearning for the
past.
From Gaza to Beersheba one sees only trees,
In Wadi Shari"a you get lost with ease;
I’m confused by the sight of the buildings I find,
I’m stunned and I feel that I’m losing my mind.
Once Wadi Shari"a was pools and huge stones,
Where a bedouin’s camels could water alone;
Left and right there were sand-pools whose water was good,
And the herd-lasses scooped it in bowls made of wood . . . 35

32 Transl. Spoer et al., “Poems by Nimr Ibn Adwan,” .

33 Transl. Sowayan, Nabati Poetry, .
34 Bailey, Bedouin Poetry, .
35 Ibid., .
 bedouin poetry and landscape 

Many of the poems collected by Bailey are down-to-earth, reflecting

everyday life in their imagery and their subjects. Missing the rich desert
imagery, they were considered inferior to the poetry from the Arabian
Desert and the east even by the poets themselves.36 However, as docu-
ments of life on the edge, of eyewitnesses and participants in a continu-
ally changing landscape, they are invaluable. These poems reflect the lives
of people caught up in the confrontation between east and west. They use
images taken from that confrontation to express themselves, and so make
it possible for us to get a glimpse of a world in which the only continuity
is that of change.
The land that the Israelites called their home was the land that is
described in these th and th century poems. How these poets looked
at, and experienced their surroundings, is reflected in its images. Com-
parison with the poetry in the Old Testament shows that their experi-
ences were not all that different from those of the early Israelites.

36 Ibid., –.
 A BIBLIOGRAPHY OF ED NOORT

A. Books

. Untersuchungen zum Gottesbescheid in Mari: Die “Mari-Prophetie” in der

alttestamentlichen Forschung (Alter Orient und Altes Testament ; Neu-
kirchen-Vluyn ).
. Bijbels-archeologische hermeneutiek en de uitleg van het Oude Testament:
Inaugurele oratie bij het aanvaarden van het ambt van hoogleraar aan de
Theologische Hogeschool te Kampen op .. = Biblisch-archäologische
Hermeneutik und alttestamentliche Exegese (Kamper Cahiers ; Kampen
).
. Geweld in het Oude Testament: Over woorden en voorstellingen aan de rand
van de kerkelijke praktijk (Ter Sprake ; Delft ; d ed. Delft ).
. Een duister duel: Over de theologie van het boek Job (Kamper cahiers ;
Kampen ).
. Israël en de westelijke Jordaanoever: Een werkboek voor Palestinareizigers
(Kampen ) = Israel und das westliche Jordanufer: Ein Reiseführer (Neu-
kirchen-Vluyn ).
. Een plek om te zijn: Over de theologie van het land aan de hand van Jozua
:–. Inaugurele oratie bij de aanvaarding van het ambt van hoogleraar
aan de Rijksuniversiteit Groningen .. (Kampen ).
. Die Seevölker in Palästina (Palaestina Antiqua ; Kampen ).
. Das Buch Josua: Forschungsgeschichte und Problemfelder (Erträge der For-
schung ; Darmstadt ).

B. Books Edited

. Sleutelen aan het verbond: Bijbelse en theologische essays (Boxtel ) [with
others].
. Geschichte und Geschichtlichkeit in Theologie und Glaubensgemeinschaft:
Eine Konferenz unter Auspizien des Ost-europa-Ausschusses der Niederlän-
dischen Theologischen Fakultäten .–. Juni  (Theologie zwischen Ost
und West ; Groningen ) [with M. Popović].
. Hoffnung für die Zukunft: Modelle eschatologischen und apokalyptischen
Denkens. Vorträge der zweiten Konferenz der südostmitteleuropaïschen und
niederländischen Theologischen Fakultäten in Cluj, Rumänien  (Gronin-
gen ) [with M. Popovic].
. Internationaal Commentaar op de Bijbel ( vols.; Kampen ) [with oth-
ers].
 a bibliography of ed noort

. The Sacrifice of Isaac: The Aqedah (Genesis ) and Its Interpretations
(Themes in Biblical Narrative ; Leiden ) [with E.J.C. Tigchelaar].
. Trends in de Groninger Theologie: “You need a busload of faith to get by” (Delft
) [wih H. Zock].
. Religion und Normativität: Interdisziplinäre Überlegungen zum Dekalog da-
mals und jetzt. Vorträge der dritten Konferenz der mittelsüdosteuropäischen
und niederländischen Fakultäten in Groningen  (Theologie zwischen Ost
und West ; Groningen ).
. Sodom’s Sin: Genesis – and Its Interpretations (Themes in Biblical Nar-
rative ; Leiden ) [with E.J.C. Tigchelaar].
. Europa, Minderheiten und die Globalisierung: Theologische Überlegungen zu
der sich erweiternden Welt: Vorträge der vierten Konferenz der mittelsüdos-
teuropäischen und niederländischen Theologischen Fakultäten in Bratislava
(Theologie zwischen Ost und West ; Groningen ) [with W. Wisch-
meyer].

C. Articles

. “Eine weitere Kurzbemerkung zu  Sam XIV ,” Vetus Testamentum 
() –.

. Een twijfelaar aan het woord: Het boek Prediker in een nieuwe vertaling
(Haarlem ) in: Mens durf te leven! Prediker: Een postmodern denker uit
de derde eeuw voor Christus (reedited by J. Ridderbos; Kampen ), –
.
. “Wijsheidsliteratuur als ervaringstheologie,” Gereformeerd Theologisch Tijd-
schrift  () –.

. “Palestijnse archeologie,” in (Winkler Prins; th ed.; Amsterdam ), :
–.

. “Bijbel en vredesbeweging,” in Kerk en vredesbeweging (ed. M. van Alphen
et al.; Kampen ; d ed. Kampen ), –; –.

. “JHWH und das Böse: Bemerkungen zu einer Verhältnisbestimmung,” in
Prophets, Worship and Theology: Studies in Prophetism, Biblical Theology and
Structural and Rhetorical Analysis and on the Place of Music in Worship:
Papers Read at the Joint British-Dutch Old Testament Conference Held at
Woudschoten  (ed. J. Barton; Oudtestamentische Studiën ; Leiden
), –.
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. “Toekomstverwachting in het Oude Testament: Enkele aspecten,” in Vervul-

ling en voleinding: De toekomstverwachting in het Nieuwe Testament (ed.
H. Baarlink et al.; Kampen ), –.

. “Het Ik-Zijn van JHWH: Over de problematiek van de persoonlijke god in
de theologie van het Oude Testament,” Gereformeerd Theologisch Tijdschrift
 () –.

. “Land in zicht . . .? Geloofsvisie, werkelijkheid en geschiedenis in het oudtes-
tamentische spreken over het land: Enkele opmerkingen n.a.v. Jozua :–
,” in Tussen openbaring en ervaring: Studies aangeboden aan G.P. Hartvelt
(ed. J.N. Bakker et al.; Kampen ), –.
. “Archeologie en Oude Testament,” in Inleiding tot de studie van het Oude
Testament (ed. A.S. van der Woude; Kampen ; d ed. Kampen ),
–.

. “De naamsverandering in Numeri : als facet van het Jozuabeeld,” in
Profeten en profetische geschriften: Aangeboden aan A.S. van der Woude ter
gelegenheid van zijn jubileum als hoogleraar in Oudtestamentische vakken
aan de RU te Groningen (ed. F. García Martínez et al.; Kampen ), –
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. “Transjordan in Joshua : Some Aspects,” in Lectures Held at the Third Inter-
national Conference on the History and Archaeology of Jordan (ed. A. Hadidi;
Studies in the History and Archaeology of Jordan ; London ), –.
. “Geschiedenis als brandpunt: Over de rol van de archeologie bij de vestiging
van Israël in Kanaän,” Gereformeerd Theologisch Tijdschrift  () –
.

. “Omgaan met Koningen: Tendenzen in de exegetische literatuur,” Gere-
formeerd Theologisch Tijdschrift  () –.
. “Das Kriegshandeln JHWHs in Josua :–: Zwischen Mythos und Ratio-
nalität,” in Mythos und Rationalität: Vorträge des VI. Europäischen Theolo-
genkongresses Wien  (ed. H.H. Schmid; Gütersloh ), –.
. “Josua,” in Evangelisches Kirchenlexikon (d ed.; Göttingen ), :–.

. “Over-lijden en overleven: De verbondsvoorstellingen van de deuterono-
mistische scholen,” in Sleutelen aan het verbond: Bijbelse en theologische
essays (ed. E. Noort et al.; Boxtel ), –.
. “Exegese van het Oude Testament: Een zwerftocht,” Gereformeerd Theolo-
gisch Tijdschrift  () –.
. “De lichamelijkheid van God,” Schrift  () –.
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. “Klio und die Welt des Alten Testaments: Überlegungen zur Benutzung
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schichte Israels,” in “Ernten was man sät”: Festschrift für Klaus Koch für seinen
. Geburtstag (ed. D.R. Daniels et al.; Neukirchen-Vluyn ), – [=
Inaugural Address University of Hamburg: June , ]
. “Fundamentalismus in Exegese und Archäologie: Eine Problemanzeige,”
Jahrbuch für Biblische Theologie  () –.

. “Palästina,” in Evangelisches Kirchenlexikon (d ed.; Göttingen ), :
–.
. “Palästinakunde,” in Evangelisches Kirchenlexikon (d ed.; Göttingen ),
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. “Philister,” in Evangelisches Kirchenlexikon (d ed.; Göttingen ), :–
.

. “Seevölker, materielle Kultur und Pantheon: Bemerkungen zur Benutzung
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
. “Das Kapitulationsangebot im Kriegsgesetz Dtn. : ff. und in den Kriegs-
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–.
. “Josua und seine Aufgabe: Bemerkungen zu Jos. :–,” in Nachdenken
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. “Der Nächste im Alten Testament (Nächster I),” in Theologische Realenzy-
klopädie (Berlin ), :–.
. “Toen en nu: De lezing van het Oude Testament in een christelijke context,”
in Een bron, twee stromen: Overwegingen over het eigene van het christelijk
geloof ten overstaan van het jodendom (ed. J.T. Bakker and D.C. Mulder;
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
. “ ‘Land’ in the Deuteronomistic Tradition—Genesis : The Historical and
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en België” and “The Society for Old Testament Study,” Held at Kampen, 
(ed. J.C. de Moor; Oudtestamentische Studiën ; Leiden ), –.
. “Text und Archäologie: Die Küstenregion Palästinas in der Frühen Eisen-
zeit,” Ugarit-Forschung: Internationales Jahrbuch für die Altertumskunde
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. “De val van de grote stad Jericho: Jozua : Kanttekeningen bij diachroni-
sche en synchronische benaderingen,” Nederlands Theologisch Tijdschrift 
() –.
. “Job en zijn uitleggers: Het boek Job in de spiegel van de oudtestamentische
exegese,” in Job: Steen des aanstoots? (ed. B. Siertsema; Kampen ), –.
. “Theologie in het boek Kohelet: De verhouding van dood en leven als
kritische vraag aan de wijsheidsliteratuur,” in Mens durf te leven! Prediker:
Een postmodern denker uit de derde eeuw voor Christus (ed. J. Ridderbos;
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
. “The Traditions of Ebal and Gerizim: Theological Positions in the Book of
Joshua,” in Deuteronomy and Deuteronomic Literature: Fs. C.H.W. Brekel-
mans (ed. M. Vervenne and J. Lust; Bibliotheca Ephemeridum Theologi-
carum Lovaniensium ; Louvain ), –.
. “Verzoening en geweld in de Hebreeuwse bijbel,” Wereld en Zending 
() –.
. “UNDE MALUM: The Relation between YHWH and Evil in the Old Tes-
tament,” in The Problem of Evil: Essays on Cross-Cultural Perspectives: Pro-
ceedings of the Symposium Held in January  at Satya Nilayam Research
Institute, Madras, India (ed. A. Amaladass; Thiruvanmiyur ), –.

. “The Stories of the Great Flood: Notes on Gen :–: in Its Context of the
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. “QJoshuaa and the History of Tradition in the Book of Joshua,” Journal of
Northwest Semitic Languages  () –.
. “Zu Stand und Perspektiven: Der Glaube Israels zwischen Religionsge-
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Old Testament and Early Judaism: A Symposium in Honour of Adam S. van
der Woude on the Occasion of His th Birthday (ed. F. García Martínez and
E. Noort; Supplements to Vetus Testamentum ; Leiden ), –.
. “Reconstructie van de geschiedenis als achillespees van de archeologie,”
Schrift  () –.
. “Die Philister, David und Jerusalem,” in Festschrift für Rykle Borger zu seinem
. Geburtstag am . Mai : tikip santakki mala bašmu (ed. S.M. Maul;
Cuneiform Monographs ; Groningen ), –.
. “Land and Reconciliation: Land Claims and Loss of Land,” Nederduits-
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
. “Gan Eden in the Context of the Mythology of the Hebrew Bible,” in Paradise
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(ed. G.P. Luttikhuizen; Themes in Biblical Narrative ; Leiden ), –
.
. “Numbers ,: The Priestly Oracle Urim and Tummim and the History
of Reception,” in All Those Nations . . . Cultural Encounters within and with
the Near East: Studies presented to Han Drijvers at the Occasion of His Sixty-
Fifth Birthday by Colleagues and Students (ed. H.J.L. Vanstiphout et al.;
Comers/ICOG Communications ; Groningen ), –.
. “Dor (maritima),” in Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart (th ed.; Tübin-
gen ), :–.

. “ ‘Om het menselijk geslacht te vernietigen’: Vloedverhalen in het Nabije
Oosten.” Groniek: Historisch tijdschrift  /  () –.
. “Theologie und Gesellschaft: Das Deuteronomium als Programm,” in Ge-
schichte und Geschichtlichkeit in Theologie und Glaubensgemeinschaft (ed.
E. Noort and M. Popović; Groningen ), –.
. “The Creation of Man and Woman in Biblical and Ancient Near Eastern Tra-
ditions,” in The Creation of Man and Woman: Interpretations of the Biblical
Narratives in Jewish and Christian Traditions (ed. G.P. Luttikhuizen; Themes
in Biblical Narrative ; Leiden ), –.

. “Tod und Zukunft: Das Wagnis des Ezechiel: Ez ,– und die eschato-
logische Hoffnung,” in Hoffnung für die Zukunft: Modelle eschatologischen
und apokalyptischen Denkens: Vorträge der zweiten Konferenz der südost-
mitteleuropaïschen und niederländischen Theologischen Fakultäten in Cluj,
Rumänien  (ed. E. Noort and M. Popović; Groningen ), –.
. “Der Streit um den Altar: Josua  und seine Rezeptionsgeschichte,” in
Kult, Konflikt und Versöhnung: Beiträge zur kultischen Sühne in religiösen,
sozialen und politischen Auseinandersetzungen des antiken Mittelmeerraumes
(ed. R. Albertz; Alter Orient und Altes Testament ; Münster ), –
.
. “Josua,” in Die Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart: Handwörterbuch für
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. “History and Recent Trends in Old Testament Study,” in Bible Speaks Today:
Essays in Honour of Gnana Robinson (ed. D.J. Muthunayagom; Bangalore
 []), –.
. “Krethi und Plethi,” in Die Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart (th ed.;
Tübingen ), :–.
. “Vengeance is Mine: Some Remarks on the Concepts of Divine Vengeance
and Wrath in the Hebrew Bible,” in God, Biblical Stories and Psychoanalytic
Understanding (ed. R. Kessler and P. Vandermeersch; Frankfurt a.M. ),
–.
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. “De Hebreeuwse Bijbel en de omgang met de literatuur van het oude Nabije
Oosten,” Schrift  () –.
. “Bijbel en traditie over geweld: Geweld in het Oude Testament,” Oecumeni-
sche Bezinning  () –.
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. “Genesis : Human Sacrifice and Theology in the Hebrew Bible,” in The Sac-
rifice of Isaac: The Aqedah (Genesis ) and Its Interpretations (ed. E. Noort
and E. Tigchelaar; Themes in Biblical Narrative ; Leiden ), –.
. “En het geschiedde na de dood van Mozes, de knecht van JHWH . . .:
Observaties bij het begin van het boek Jozua,” Schrift  () –.
. “De Filistijnen over U . . .: Over beeldvorming bij het gebruik van literaire en
materiële bronnen,” Tijdschrift voor Mediterrane Archeologie  () –.
. “Tussen geschiedenis en theologie: Over valkuilen en mogelijkheden in de
bijbelse theologie,” Kerk en Theologie  () –.
. “Teksten van toen voor lezers van nu? Het Oude Testament in de theologie,”
in Trends in de Groninger Theologie: “You need a busload of faith to get by”
(ed. E. Noort and H. Zock; Delft ), –.

. “Is er leven na de Tora? Het einde van de Pentateuch,” Schrift  ()
–.
. “Gen ,–: From Paradise to Reality: The Myth of Brotherhood” in Eve’s
Children: The Biblical Stories Retold and Interpreted in Jewish and Christian
Traditions (ed. G.P. Luttikhuizen; Themes in Biblical Narrative ; Leiden
) –.
. “Philister II—Archäologie und Ikonographie,” in Religion in Geschichte und
Gegenwart (th ed.; Tübingen ), :–.
. “ΒεBαβαρα τ το4 bγου 5Ιω#ννου το4 Βαπτσματος: Remarks about
Storied Places at the Jordan, John the Baptist and the Madaba Mosaic Map”
in Studies in Ancient Cultural Interaction in Honour of A. Hilhorst (ed.
F. García Martínez and G.P. Luttikhuizen; Supplements to the Journal for the
Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic, and Roman Periods ; Leiden
), –.
. “Mystiek in het Oude Testament,” in Encyclopedie van de mystiek: Funda-
menten, Tradities, Perspectieven (ed. A.J. Jelsma et al.; Kampen ), –
.
. “Het Oude Testament en zijn lezers: Van toen naar toekomst” in Heroriën-
tatie in de theologie (ed. W. Stoker and H.C. van der Sar). Kampen  =
Gereformeerd Theologisch Tijdschrift  ( / ) –.

. “The Creation of Light: Genesis :–: Remarks on the Function of Light
and Darkness in the Opening Verses of the Hebrew Bible” in The Creation of
Heaven and Earth: Re-interpretation of Genesis I in the Context of Judaism,
Ancient Philosophy, Christianity, and Modern Physics (ed. G.H. van Kooten;
Themes in Biblical Narrative ; Leiden ), –.
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. “Der Dekalog und die Theologie im Alten Testament,” in Religion und
Normativität: Interdisziplinäre Überlegungen zum Dekalog damals und jetzt:
Vorträge der dritten Konferenz der mittelsüdosteuropäischen und niederlän-
dischen Fakultäten in Groningen . (ed. E. Noort; Theologie zwischen Ost
und West ; Groningen ), – and –.
. “For the Sake of Righteousness: Abraham’s Negiotations with YHWH as
Prologue to the Sodom Narrative: Genesis :–,” in Sodom’s Sin: Genesis
– and Its Interpretations (ed. E. Noort and E.J.C. Tigchelaar; Themes in
Biblical Narrative ; Leiden ), –.
. “ ‘The disgrace of Egypt’—Joshua :a and Its Context,” in The Wisdom
of Egypt: Jewish, Early Christian, and Gnostic Essays in Honour of Gerard
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und des Urchristentums ; Leiden ), –.
. “Reconstructie van de geschiedenis van Israël: De casus van de ‘High or Low
Chronology’ in de koningstijd,” Nederlands Theologisch Tijdschrift  ()
–.
. “Wort Gottes I: Altes Testament : Begriff und Vorkommen; : Wort Gottes
im Vorderen Orient und Ägypten; : Jeremiabuch; : Ezechielbuch; :
Übrige Prophetie und deuteronomistische Literatur,” in Theologische Realen-
zyklopädie (Berlin ), :–.
. “God als boosdoener . . .: Over de rol van God bij de ervaring van kwaad in
de Hebreeuwse bijbel,” in Kennis van het kwaad: Zeven visies uit Jodendom
en Christendom (ed. E.J.C. Tigchelaar and L.J. Lietaert Peerbolte; Zoeter-
meer ), – and –.
. “The Interpretation of the Bible during and after the Enlightenment: Biblical
Theology and History,” in The International Bible Commentary: An Ecumeni-
cal Commentary For The Twenty-First Century (ed. W.R. Farmer; Collegeville
), –.

. “Der reißende Wolf: Josua in Überlieferung und Geschichte,” in Congress
Volume Leiden  (ed. A. Lemaire; Supplements to Vetus Testamentum
; Leiden ), –.
. “Josua und Amalek: Exodus :–,” in The Interpretation of Exodus: Stud-
ies in Honour of Cornelis Houtman (ed. R. Roukema et al.; Contributions to
Biblical Exegesis and Theology ; Louvain ), –.
. “Die Exegese des Alten Testaments und die Globalisierung: Chancen und
Risiken,” in Europa, Minderheiten und die Globalisierung: Theologische über-
legungen zu der sich erweiternden Welt: Vorträge der vierten Konferenz der
mittelsüdosteuropäischen und niederländischen Theologischen Fakultäten in
Bratislava (ed. E. Noort and W. Wischmeyer; Theologie zwischen Ost und
West ; Groningen ), –.
. “Wenn die Götter reden: Über den Sinn des Alten Testaments in der heuti-
gen Diskussion,” Zeitschrift für dialektische Theologie  () –.
 a bibliography of ed noort 


. “Over zieners, waarzeggers en profeten: Bileam en Jeremia tussen Moab en
Israël,” Kerk en Theologie  () –.
. “Child Sacrifice in Ancient Israel: The Status Questionis,” in The Strange
World of Human Sacrifice (ed. J.N. Bremmer; Studies in the History and
Anthropology of Religion ; Louvain ), –.
. “Der Librettist und Joshua: Rezeptionskritische Bemerkungen zu der Verar-
beitung des biblischen Stoffes in Händels Oratorium Joshua (HWV ),” in
“Vom Erkennen des Erkannten”: Musikalische Analyse und Editionsphilologie:
Festschrift für Christian Martin Schmidt (Wiesbaden ), –.
. “Joshua and Copernicus: Josh :– and the History of Reception” in
Flores Florentino: Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Early Jewish Studies in Honour
of Florentino García Martínez (ed. A. Hilhorst et al.; Supplements to the
Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic, and Roman
Periods ; Leiden ), –.
. “Het oude Nabije Oosten en de godsdienst van Israël,” Schrift  () –
.
. “De kunst van de hervertelling—Religie als overlevingskunst. Kanttekenin-
gen bij de Blokkerbijbel,” in Er was eens een God (Groningen ), –.
. “Goddelijk gewild geweld” in Hard of helend? God en geweld in de bijbel en
nu (ed. J. van Dijk; Zoetermeer ), –.
. “The Role of History and the Theology of the Old Testament,” in Reformed
Theology: Identity and Ecumenicity II. Biblical Interpretation in the Reformed
Tradition (ed. W.M. Alston Jr. and M. Welker; Grand Rapids, Mich., ),
–.

D. Homiletics

. “. Schöpfung, die unteilbare Welt (Gen. :–); . Die Wirklichkeit und
die Glaubensgemeinschaft (Hiob :–); . Der prophetische Weg (Jes.
:–); . Christus ist unser Frieden (Eph. :–). Vier Bibelstudien”
in Dynamik der Hoffnung: Bericht der Studienkonsultation der Konferenz
Europäischer Kirchen – Mai  in Moskau (Studienheft ; Geneva
), – [published at the same time in French, English, and Russian].
. “Jesaja :–,” Göttinger Predigtmeditationen  () –.
. “Lukas :–,” Göttinger Predigtmeditationen  ( / ) –.
. “Jesaja : f., b; :–,” Göttinger Predigtmeditationen  () –
= Evangelische Predigtmeditationen  /  (Berlin/DDR ), :–.
. “Genesis :–,” Göttinger Predigtmeditationen  () –.
. “Genesis :–a, –; :–a,” Göttinger Predigtmeditationen  ()
– = Evangelische Predigtmeditationen (Berlin/DDR ), :–
.
. “Exodus :–,” Göttinger Predigtmeditationen  () – = Evan-
gelische Predigtmeditationen (Berlin/DDR ) :–.
. “Briefe über den Prediger (Kohelet),” in Vision und Gedächtnis: Gottesdienste
 a bibliography of ed noort

zur Zeit – (ed. P. Cornehl; Hamburger Universitätsgottesdienste

.; Hamburg ), –.
. “Wenn der Zusammenhang des Lebens brüchig wird (Prediger ,–,)”
and “Wenn das Böse sich durchsetzt (Prediger ,–;,–; ,–),” in
Vision und Gedächtnis (ed. P. Cornehl; Hamburger Universitätsgottesdienste
.; Hamburg ), –.
. “Der Gott der Feinde (Jesaja ,–),” Vision und Gedächtnis (ed. P. Cor-
nehl; Hamburger Universitätsgottesdienste .; Hamburg ), –.
. “. Mose , –: Der priesterliche Segen: Trinitatis—..,” Göttinger
Predigtmeditationen  () –.
. “Jesaja :–,” in Calwer Predigthilfen: Neue Folge Reihe VI (ed. J.C. Ja-
nowski; Stuttgart ), –.
. “. Mose ,–a,” Göttinger Predigtmeditationen . () –.
. “Markus ,–,” in Geschichte und Geschichtlichkeit in Theologie und
Glaubensgemeinschaft (ed. E. Noort and M. Popović; Groningen ), –
.
. “Dood en leven (Klaagliederen ,–),” Kerk en Theologie  () –
.
. “Genesis ,–.b–,” Göttinger Predigtmeditationen  ( / )
–.
. “Verbinding: Jesaja :–,” Kerk en Theologie . () –.

E. Necrologies; University

. “Omgaan met het Oude Testament: De visie van Jan Ridderbos benaderd
vanuit toen en nu,” in Voortgang: Een bundel theologische opstellen ter gele-
genheid van het jarig bestaan van de Theologische Hogeschool (Kampen
), – [with W.M. van der Meer and H.H. Grosheide].
. “Walther Zimmerli: Theologie als Begegnung,” in  Jahre Reformierte Stu-
dentenhäuser in Zürich: Jubiläumsschrift (ed. R.G. Kratz; Zürich ), –.
. “Akademische Theologie in den Niederlanden: Ein Situationsbericht,” Evan-
gelische Theologie  () –.
. “Bruggenbouwer tussen scholen: In Memoriam Dr. Roel Oost,” NieuwsBrief
Alumni RUG (December ) .
. “Herdenking Adam Simon van der Woude,” in Levensberichten en her-
denkingen van de Koninklijke Nederlandse Akademie van Wetenschappen
 (Amsterdam ), –; “Een Fries in Groningen: In memoriam
Prof. Dr. A.S. van der Woude –,” Nieuwsbrief Alumni RUG ()
–.
. Worte wie Stacheln: Der Prediger Salomo: Gespräche mit einem ketzerischen
Buch (Bielefeld ), – [with S. Lichtenberger].
. “In Memoriam Han Drijvers,” Nieuwsbrief Alumni RUG (Juli ).
. “Vriezen, Theodorus Christiaan,” Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart (th
ed.; Tübingen ), :.
. “In Memoriam J(ohannes) P.M. van der Ploeg,” in Herdenkingen  Konin-
klijke Nederlandse Akademie van Wetenschappen (Edita; Amsterdam ),
–.
 INDEX OF ANCIENT SOURCES

Ancient Near Eastern Texts . –

. 
HAE1 . 
:E I, Jer():  . 
. 
KAI
: . 
Hebrew Bible and Septuagint
KTU
..I.  Genesis
. –  :–: 
:–: 
Mesha Stele :– , 
–  : 
  : 
: –, –, 
Rassam–Cylinder :– 
II – ,  :–: 
III –  : 
VI –  : 
:– , 
OGIS  (Rosetta Stone) : 
 ff.  : 
: 
: 
Awesta – : 
:– 
Yasna :– 
.  : , 
.  : 
.  :–: –
:–: –
Yashts :– , 
.  :– –
.  : 
.  : 
.  : , –
.  : , 
.  : , , 

1 J. Renz and W. Röllig, Handbuch der althebräischen Epigraphik, Darmstadt .

 index of ancient sources

: ,  : 

:–: – : 
:– ,   
: ,   
:–  :– –
:–  : 
:  :– 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  :– 
:  : 
:–  : 
: ,  : 
  :– 
:– ,  : 
:–  : 
: ,  : , 
: , – – 
: –,  : 
:– , ,  : 
:– ,  :– 
:  : 
:– – : 
:  : 
:  :– , 
:– ,  :– 
:  : 
:  : 
: ,  : –, 
: , –,  : 
:–  : 
  : 
:–  :– –
:– ,  : –
:–  : –, , 
:–  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:–  : 
:–  : 
:–   
:–  : 
:   
:  : 
  : 
 index of ancient sources 

:  : 

:  :– 
:  :– 
  : 
:–  : 
:  :– 
: ,  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : –
:  : 
:  : 
:  : , 
:  :– 
:  :– 
:  : 
:–  : 
: 
Exodus :– 
:–: , ,  :– 
:  : 
 –,  : 
:  : 
:  :–: 
: ,  :– 
:  :– 
:  :– 
:   , 
:  :– 
:– ,  : 
:  :– 
:  : 
:  :– 
:–  :– 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:–  : 
:  : 
:  :–: 
:  :– 
:  :– , 
:  :– , 
:– 
:  Leviticus
:–:  :–: , 
 index of ancient sources

:–  :– , 

:– – : 
:  :– –
:–  : 
:  : , , 
:–: ,  :– 
:–  :– , –,
:–  
:–  :– 
:  : , , 
–  :– 
:–:  : , , 
: – :– , , , 
  :– 
:– ,  : 
:  :– 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:–  : 
:  : 
:  :– 
: ,  : 
:–  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:–  : 
:  : 
: , 
Numbers : , 
:–: , , –, : 
–, , : 
– : 
:–:  : 
:–: , ,  : 
:–: –, ,  : 
:–:  : , 
:–: –, – : 
:–: –, –, : 
 : 
:– , – : 
:–  : 
:– –,  : 
: , – : , 
:–  :– 
: – :– 
: –,  : 
 index of ancient sources 

:–: –, –, :– –, , ,

 –
:– ,  :– , –
:  : 
:  :– 
:–: ,  :– , , –,
:– –,  
:–  :– 
:–  : 
:–  :– , , –
:–  : 
:–  :– –, –,
:–  
: ,  :– , –, –
:–  
:– – : 
:–  : 
:  : 
:–  : –, –
:  :– –, –
:–  : 
:  :– –, –
:–  :– –, –
:–  :– , –, –
:  
:–  :– 
:–  : , 
:  : 
:  :– –, –
:– ,  :– 
:– , , – : 
 :– , , , –
:– ,  : 
:–  : , , 
:–  : 
:– ,  : 
:–  :–: 
:– ,  :–: 
:–  :–: 
:–  :–: –
:–  :–: 
:–  :–: 
:–  :–: 
:–  :– 
:–: –, , – :– 
 : 
:–: ,  : 
 index of ancient sources

:–:  :– 

:–:  : 
:–:  : 
:–:  : , 
:–  : 
:– ,  :– 
:  : 
:  :– 
:–  : 
:  :–: 
:  :– 
:  : –, , 
:  :– 
:  :–: 
:  :–: –
:– – :– –, 
:  :– , –, ,
:  
:  : , –
:  : , –
:–: ,  :– , –,
:–  –, 
: – : –, –,
:–:  
:– , , ,  : –, , 
:–  :– 
:  : 
:–  : , 
:  :– 
:–  : 
:  : 
:–  :– , –
:  :– , –
:  :– 
: ,  : , 
:–: –, ,  :– 
:  : , , , 
:–:  :– 
:–  : , 
:  : –
:–  : 
:–  :– , –
:  : 
:  : 
:–: ,  : , , 
:–: ,  :–: –
:– , , ,  :– 
 index of ancient sources 

:–  : –

: ,  :–: –, –
:  :–: 
:  : 
: ,  :–: –, , , 
:  :– , 
:  :– 
:–  :– 
:  : –, 
:–  : 
:–Joshua : :– 
 : 
:–Joshua : :– 
 : , –
:– Deuteronomy : :– 
 :– 
:–:  :– , 
:–:  : 
:–:  :– 
:–:  :– , 
:–: , ,  : 
: –, –, : 
–,  :– 
:  :– , , , , –
:  , , 
:  : 
:  : , 
:  :– 
:  :– 
: ,  :– 
:  : 
:  :– 
:  :– 
:  :– –
:  : 
:  : –
:  : , , –
:  : 
:  :– 
:  :– , 
:  : , –, –
:  : , 
:  : 
:  :– , –
:  : 
:– , ,  :– 
:–  : 
 index of ancient sources

: – : 

:–:  :– 
:–  : 
: – :– 
:  : 
:–:  : 
:–  :– 
:–  :– 
:  :– 
:–  :– –
:  : 
:  : 
:  :– 
:  : 
:–  : 
:–  :– 
:  : –
: –,  :– 
: 
Deuteronomy : 
:–: –, , , – 
, –,   , 
:–: ,  : 
:–  : , 
:– , – : 
: , – : 
: ,   –
:  :– 
:–  :– 
:–  :– 
:  : 
:  : 
:  :– , 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
  :– 
:–  :– 
:–  : 
:  :– 
:  :– 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : –
: ,  : 
:  : 
:  : 
 index of ancient sources 

:–  : , –

:  : –
:  : , , 
:  : 
: – : , 
:  :–: 
:  :– 
:  : 
:  : 
:   
:– – : 
: – : 
:  : 
:  : 
: ,  :– 
:  :–: 
 
Joshua :– , 
:–: , , –, , , : , –, 
, , , , :– 
, –, : , 
–,  : , 
:–:  :– , –, 
:–  : , 
: ,  :– , 
:–  :–: 
:–:  :– , –, ,
:– –, ,  –, –, ,
: , , , ,  –, , , 
: –, –,  : 
: , , , –,  :– –
: –, –, – :– , 
: –, , , – :– 
: –,  :– , 
:–  :– , , , 
: –, ,  : 
: , ,  :– –, , 
: –, , ,  : , –, , 
: –, ,  :– 
: –, ,  : , , , , , 
: ,  : , –, –,
: –, ,  , 
: – :– 
: –,  : –, , , ,
:  , –, 
: ,  :– 
: – : , –, –, 
 index of ancient sources

:– , , , ,  :– 

: , , , , – : , 
,   
: , , , , – :– 
,  : 
:– ,  : 
: , , –,  : 
:–  : 
: , , –, – : 
:–  : 
:– , ,  :– –
: , , ,  : 
: , , , , –  
, ,  : , 
:– ,  : , 
: ,  : 
: , , ,  : 
:–  : 
:– ,  : 
: , –, –,  : 
: , , , , , : 
  
:– –,  : 
:– ,  :– , , , –
: , , ,  
: ,  :– –
:– ,  : 
: –, , , : –, 
–, –, ,  : 
: , ,  : , 
:– ,  : 
: ,  : 
:  : 
: –, , –,  : 
: , , , , ,  : 
:–  :– 
: ,  : 
 , ,  : 
:–  : 
: –,  : 
:–  :– 
: , ,  : 
:  : 
: ,  : 
:  : 
: ,  :– 
:–  : 
 index of ancient sources 

:  :– 

:  : , 
:–:  :– 
:–: ,  : 
:–: , –, , : 
–,  : –, 
:– , ,  :–: 
: , ,  :– 
:–  : 
:– – :– , 
:–  : 
: – : 
: , ,  :– 
:–  : , 
: , –,  : 
: , – :– 
: ,  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  :– 
:  :– –
:  :– 
:–  : , , –, –
:  : –, 
:  : , –, 
:  : , 
:–: ,  :– 
:–  : , , –
:– , ,  : –, –
:–  : , 
: ,  : –, , 
: , ,  : , , –
:  : –, , –
:  : 
: ,  :–: 
:–  : 
:  :– 
:  : 
:  : 
: , ,  : 
:  : 
:  : 
: ,  : 
:  : 
:–: , ,  : 
:– ,  : 
:  : , 
 index of ancient sources

: ,  :– 

:–:  :– 
:–  : –, 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  :– 
:  : , 
  :– –
:  : 
:  :– 
:  :– , 
:– ,  : , –
:–  :– 
:  :– , 
:  :– –
:–  : 
:  :– , 
: , ,  : 
: 
:– –, ,  Judges
:–  :–: –, –
:  :–: 
:  :–: 
:– –, – :–: 
:–  :– –, –,
: , – –
:– , – :– , 
: ,  : , , 
: , – : 
:–  : 
:  : , –
:–  :– 
:  : 
:–  : –, 
: , –,  :– 
: ,  : 
: – : , , –
:– , ,  :– 
: ff.  : 
:  :– 
:–  : 
: ,  :– –
:–  :– 
: ,  :– , 
:  : 
:  : 
 index of ancient sources 

:  :– 

:–:  : , 
:–:  : 
:–  : 
:–  : , 
:– – : 
:  :– 
:–  : 
:  :– 
:–:  :– 
:–:  : 
:  :– –
:  : 
:  :– 
:–: –, ,  :– 
:  :–: , , –
: ,  :– –
:  : , 
:–  : –
:–  : 
: ,  : 
:  : 
: ,  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  – 
:  :–: , , , 
  :–: 
:– – : , 
:  :– 
: ,  : 
:– ,  :– 
:  : , 
:–  : 
:  :– 
: ,  : 
: ,  : 
:  : 
:–  :–: –
: – :– 
: – : –, 
: –,  :– 
:– – :– 
:– ,  : 
: –, ,  : 
:–  :–: 
 index of ancient sources

:–  : 

:  : 
:  :– 
: , ,  : –
:–  : , 
:  : 
:  :– 
:  : 
:  :– 
:  : 
:  : 
:  :– 
:  : 
:  : 
:  :– 
:  : , 
:  : 
:–  : 
:  :– 
:  – 
:–  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
: 
 Samuel (lxx  Kingdoms)
:– –  Samuel (lxx  Kingdoms)
: – : , 
:  :– 
:  : , 
:  : –
:  : 
:  :– 
–  : 
–  : 
   
:–  :– 
:  : 
:   
:–  :– 
:–  : 
:  : 
:–  : –, 
:  : 
:–  : , 
:–  :– Kings (lxx  Kingdoms) :
: – 
 index of ancient sources 

  : 
:  :– 
:  : , –
: , – : 
:  : , 
:  : 
  : 
:  : 
: 
 Kings (lxx  Kingdoms) – 
–  – 
:   
:–  : 
:   
:  :– , 
–  : 
: –  
:  : 
:– – : 
:  : 
  :– 
:–   –
:  :– Kings (lxx  Kingdoms)
:  : 
:  :– 
:  :– 
:  :– 
:  :– 
:  : , 
:  : , 
:  :– 
:  : 
:  : , –
:  :– 
:  : 
:  : , –
  : , 
:  : 
:–  :– , 
:–  : 
: ,  :– 
:–  : –, 
: ,  : 
:  : 
: (Antiochian text :) : –
, – : 
:  :– 
 index of ancient sources

 Kings (lxx  Kingdoms) :– 

:  :– 
:– 
:  Isaiah
: , – :– 
:–  :– 
:– – : 
:  : , 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:–  : 
:–  : 
:–  : 
:–  :– 
:–  : , –, 
:  : 
:  :– 
: , ,  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  :– 
: , ,  :– 
:–  : 
:  – 
:  – 
:  :– 
:  :– 
:  :– 
:  :– 
:  :– 
:  :– 
:   
:  : 
: ,  :– 
:  : 
:  : 
:–  : 
:  – 
:  :– 
:–  :– 
:–  :– –, 
:  : 
 index of ancient sources 

:  :– 

:  : 
:  : 
:  : –
: – : 
:  : 
:  : 
  : 
:   (lxx ): 
:–   (lxx ): 
:   (lxx ): 
:–  : 
:  :– , 
:   (lxx ): 
:–   (lxx ): 
:   (lxx ): 
:   (lxx ): 

Jeremiah Ezekiel
:–:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  :– 
:  : 
  :– 
: , ,  :– 
:  : 
: ,  : 
:  : 
:–  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:–  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  :– 
:  – –, –,
:  , 
:  :–: 
:–  : 
:  : –
  : 
–  :– 
:–  :–: 
 index of ancient sources

:–  :– 

:  : 
:–:  :– , , –,
:–:  
:  :– –, 
:  :– 
: –
Hosea : , , –,
:–: – 
:– , ,  :– 
:–:  : 
: –, , :–: 
–,  :– 
:–  : , –, 
:– –,  : –, 
: , – : , –,
: – –
:–  :– 
:  : 
: – : 
: – : , 
:– , , – : 
:–  : 
:–  : 
: –,  : 
: , –, , : 
 : 
:–  : 
: – : 
:–  : 
:– , ,  : 
:  :– 
:  :– 
:  : 
: ,  : –, 
: ,  :– 
: ,  : , , –
:  : , 
:– , ,  :– 
: , –, : , –
–, ,  : –
:–  : 
: ff.  : 
: , –,  : 
:  : 
: , , , – : 
 : , 
 index of ancient sources 

:  : 

:  : 
:– ,  : 
:  : 
:–  :– 
: 
Malachi
Joel : 
:  :– (Engl. tr. :–)
:  
: 
: ,  Psalms
:–: –
Amos :– 
:  : 
:   
:– 
Obadiah : 
  : 
: 
Micah : 
:  : 
:  : 
:–  :– 
:  :– 
:  : 
:   
: ,  : 
:– 
Nahum : 
:  : 
: 
Habakkuk  (lxx ): 
:  : 
 , –,
Zephaniah –
:  :– –
:  : 
: , , 
Haggai : , –
:–  : 
:– 
Zechariah : 
:  : 
:  :– 
:  : –, 
:–  : , , 
 index of ancient sources

: –,  :– –

: ,  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:–  : 
: , ,   
:  :– , 
:–  : 
: ,  : 
: , ,  : 
:–  : 
:–  : 
:–  : 
:–  : 
:  :– 
: , ,  : 
:–  : 
:   (lxx ): –
:–  : 
: –,  : 
:–   (lxx ): 
:–  : 
:  : 
:–  :– –
 (lxx ):  :– 
:  : , 
:–  : 
:–  :– 
:  :– 
:  : , 
:  : –, 
 ,  :– 
:  : 
  : 
:  : , 
:–  : 
 (lxx ):  : 
:–   
:  : (lxx :)
:  , 
 (lxx ):– : 
,   (lxx ): 
:–  : 
:–   (lxx ): 
:  :– 
:  :– 
 (lxx ):  :– –, 
 index of ancient sources 

:–  : 

:  : 
:– – :– 
:  : 
:–  : 
:– –
:  Proverbs
:  : 
:  :– –
:  :– , –, 
:– – : 
:–  : 
: – : 
:–  :– 
:  : , –, 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
 (lxx ):
 Ruth
:  : 
:–  : –
:– 
:  Song of Songs
:  : 
:  : 
:–:  : 
:–  : 
:–  : 
: 
:–  Lamentations
:–  : 
:–  :– 

Job Esther
:  : 
:  : 
:  : , 
:  : 
 
:–  Daniel
:–  – 
:   , 
:–  : 
:–  : 
: – : 
: , , – – , , 
 index of ancient sources

 –, , :– 

–, ,  : , 
:–   , –, ,
:  
:–  :– 
:–  :– 
:  : 
:–  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  – 
:  – 
:   –, –
–  : 
 , –, : –
– : 
:–  : 
:  :– 
:  – , 
:   , –
:  : , 
:  : 
:–  :– 
:  : 
: ,  :– 
:– – : , 
:  : 
 , –,  :– , 
:–  : , , –,
:  , 
:   –
:  : 
:–  : 
:  : 
:  – 
   –, –
:  : , 
: ,  : 
:  :– 
 – : 
:  :– 
:  : 
:  : , –,
:  –, –,
:  
:  :– 
:  :– 
 index of ancient sources 

:  : 

:  :– 
 ,  : , 
:–  :– 
: , , –, :– 
 : 
: , , 
Ezra : , , 
:–  :– 
: ,  : , 
:  : –, 
:  : , –
:– – : , 
:  : 
: ,  :– 
:  :– 
:–  : 
:  : 
:  :– 
:–  :– 
:–  : –, 
:–  : 
:–  :– 
:  :– 
:–  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  :– 
:  : 
: 
 Chronicles
Nehemiah : (lxx :) 
:  : , 
  : 
:  : 
: – : 
:  : 
:–  : 
: – : 
:  : 
: – : 
:  :– 
: – : 
: ,  : 
:  :– , –
:  :– 
:  :– 
 index of ancient sources

: –, , – : 

: ,  : 
:–: –, ,  : 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : , –
:  : 
:  : , 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : , –
:  : , 
:  :– 
:  : 
:  : 
: 
 Esdras
 Chronicles : 
: 
:   Esdras
:  : 
: 
:  Judith
:  :– 
: 
:   Maccabees
:–   
:  : , 
: ,  : 
:  : 
:  :– , 
:  : 
: , – : 
:  : 
: , 
:   Maccabees
:  : 
:  : 
:  : 
: ,  :– 
: , – :– 
: , – :– , 
:  : 
: , – : , 
:  : 
:  :– 
:  :– , 
 index of ancient sources 

:  : 

:  : , 
:  :– 
  : , 
:  :– 
:–  :– 
:  : , 
:  : 
:  : 
:  : , 
: 
 Maccabees : 
:  :– 
:  : , , 
: 
 Maccabees
:  Mark
:  : 
: –, 
Sirach (Ben Sira) : 
:  : 
:  : , 
:  : –
: , , , –
Susanna 
  : 
: , 
Tobit :– 
:–  : 
:  : 
 , 
Wisdom of Solomon : 
: 
:  Luke
: 
: 
New Testament : 
: , 
Matthew :– 
:  :– –, 
:  : , , 
:–  : 
:–  : 
: –,  : 
:–  :– 
: –
: , 
 index of ancient sources

John Jubilees
:   
:  :– 
:  : 
:  : 
: 
Acts : 
:  : 
:  :– 
:   –
:  :– –
:– 
Romans :– , –, ,
:  
:  : –, –,

Galatians : –, –
:  : –
:–  : , 
: , , 
 Thessalonians : , 
:–  :– , , –
: , –, 
Hebrews :– 
:  : –, , ,

James :– , 
:  : 
:– –
 Peter : 
:– ,  : –
:  : , –
:  : , –
: , ,  : –, 
:–  :– , 
: , 
Revelation :– 
:  : , 
:  :– –, ,
– , ,  –
– – : –, –
:– 
: , –
Old Testament Pseudepigrapha : , , 
: –, 
 Enoch  –
:  :– 
 index of ancient sources 

:–  QS

:  VIII  
:  VIII – 
:  IX  –
: 
:–  QSa 
:  II – 
:– 
:–  QSb 
:– 
:  Q 
: 
:  Q 
: 
:  QMidrEschata,b
:  
: 
:  QMMT 
:–  B – 
: 
:  QPrNab 

QTestimonia
Dead Sea Scrolls – 

Pesher Habakkuk Q (Josha) , , 

XII – (Hab :)
 Q (Joshb) 

Temple Scroll  Q (Sama) 

XXIX 
Q
QApGen II – 
XII   II  
XXII – 
Q
QM (War Scroll) frg.  II –
 
I 
II–III  Q
II –  frg. – I  
III –  frg. – I  
VII–X 
VII   Q (QFlorilegium)
XII – – –
XVI–XVIII 
XIX 
 index of ancient sources

Q (QTanhumim) . 

 . 
. 
Q (QCatena A) . 
IV – – . 
. 
Q (QLamentation) . 
frg.  –  . 
.– 
Q  . 
. , 
Q (War Scroll)  
 . 
.– , 
Q (War Scroll) . 
 .– 
. 
Q (War Scroll) . 
 . 
.– 
Q . 
IV  .– 
. 
Q 
Jewish War
Q  . 
frg.  III   . 
. 
Qa  . 
. 
Q  .– 

Q  Life

 
QPsa
XXII 
Rabbinic Literature
Q 
b. Hagigah
.
Q  a 

Q  b. Sanhedrin

b 
Josephus
Genesis Rabbah
Antiquities : 
.– –
 index of ancient sources 

Targum Jonathan Other Early Christian

Josh :  Literature
Judg : 
Judg :  Anonymus
Judg :  Itinerarium Burdigalense


Early Christian Literature: Cyril of Jerusalem

Apostolic Fathers Catecheses
. –
Hermas
Shepherd Epiphanius
.  Refutation of All Heresies
.  .. 
. 
Eusebius of Caesarea
Commentary on the Psalms
New Testament Apocrypha and Ps : (lxx: :)
Pseudepigrapha 
Onomasticon
Acts of John . 
 –, 
Hippolytus
Acts of Peter Commentary on Daniel
  . 
. 
Acts of Thomas . 
  . 
. 
Apocalypse of John . 
 . 

Ethiopic Apocalypse of Peter Jerome

:  Commentary on Daniel
 – Prologue –, –
:  ..– –
..a 
Greek Apocalypse of Peter ..b 
–  ..b 
..a 
Narratio Josephi Arimathiensis ..b– 
  ..b 
.. –
. 
..–a 
.a 
.. –, 
 index of ancient sources

..b–a Other Classical Literature


..b , ,  Aeneas Tacticus
.. , – On the Defense of Fortified Positions
.. – :– 
..– – :– 
..–  :– 
..– 
..– ,  Appian
..–  The Hannibalic War
..–   
Epistulae
. – Cassian
.  Conlationes
. 
Origen
Commentarii in evangelium Joannis Demetrius of Phaleron
.  De elocutione
Commentarii in Romanos 
. 
Commentarium in evangelium Herodotus
Matthaei Histories
.–  . 
Contra Celsum . –
., 
.  Plotinus
.,  Enneads
Fragmenta in Psalmos – . 
Ps : (lxx :)
 Polybius
Homiliae in Jeremiam Histories 
.  ..– 
Selecta in Psalmos .. 
Ps : (lxx :) . 

Porphyry
Piacenza Pilgrim Against the Christians
  

Theodosius Xanthos
Topography of the Holy Land Lydiaca 
 –
Xenophon
Anabasis
..– 
 index of ancient sources 

Papyri and Inscriptions P.Oxy III  

 
OGIS  
P. Tebt.II  
Panamara  
Zenon Archive 
P.Cair.Zen. I 
 