Philip R. Davies, Richard T. White A Tribute To Geza Vermes Essays On Jewish and Christian Literature and History JSOT Supplement Series

JOURNAL FOR THE STUDY OF THE OLD TESTAMENT
SUPPLEMENT SERIES
100
Editors
David J A Clines
Philip R Davies
JSOT Press
Sheffield
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A
TRIBUTE
TO
GEZA VERMES
Essays on Jewish and Christian

Literature and History
edited by
Philip R. Davies
&
Richard T. White
Journal for the Study of the Old Testament

Supplement Series 100
Copyright 1990 Sheffield Academic Press
Published by JSOT Press

JSOT Press is an imprint of
Sheffield Academic Press Ltd
The University of Sheffield
343 Fulwood Road
Sheffield S10 3BP
England
Typeset by Sheffield Academic Press

and
Printed on acid-free paper in Great Britain
by Billing & Sons Ltd
Worcester
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
A tribute to Geza Vermes: essays on Jewish and Christian

literature and history.
1. Christianity, history 2. Judaism, history
I. Davies, Philip R. II. Vermes, Geza 1924- III. Series
209
ISSN 0309-0787
ISBN 1-85075-253-2
CONTENTS
Editors' Preface 7
Abbreviations 10
I. SEMITICA
EDWARD ULLENDORFF
The Lion of the Tribe of Judah Hath Prevailed 15
II. DEAD SEA SCROLLS

P. WERNBERG-M0LLER
Two Biblical Hebrew Adverbs in the Dialect of the
Dead Sea Scrolls 21
PHILIP R. DAVIES
Halakhah at Qumran 37
MICHAEL A. KNIBB
The Teacher of Righteousnessa Messianic Title? 51
RICHARD T. WHITE
The House of Peleg in the Dead Sea Scrolls 67
III. TARGUMS AND RABBINICA

PHILIP S. ALEXANDER
Quid Athenis et Hierosolymis?
Rabbinic Midrash and Hermeneutics in the
Graeco-Roman World 101
LEWIS M. EARTH
Introducing the Akedah:
A Comparison of Two Midrashic Presentations 125
SEBASTIAN BROCK
The Two Ways and the Palestinian Targum 139
ARNOLD GOLDBERG
The Rabbinic View of Scripture 153
JONAS C. GREENFIELD
Ben Sira 42.9-10 and its Talmudic Paraphrase 167
C.T.R. HAYWARD
Jacob's Second Visit to Bethel in Targum Pseudo-Jonathan 175
LOUIS JACOBS
The Story of R. Phinehas ben Yair and his Donkey in
b. Hullin 7a-b 193
IRVING J. MANDELBAUM
Tannaitic Exegesis of the Golden Calf Episode 207
IV. JUDAISM AND CHRISTIANITY IN HISTORY

MARTIN GOODMAN
Kosher Olive Oil in Antiquity 227
JACOB NEUSNER
Judaism and Christianity in the First Century:
How Shall We Perceive their Relationship? 247
TESSA RAJAK
The Hasmoneans and the Uses of Hellenism 261
PETER SCHAFER
Hadrian's Policy in Judaea and the Bar Kokhba Revolt:
A Reassessment 281
V. NEW TESTAMENT
JAMES BARR
The Hebrew/Aramaic Background of 'Hypocrisy'
in the Gospels 307
MATTHEW BLACK
The Doxology to the Pater Noster
with a Note on Matthew 6.13b 327
ANTHONY E. HARVEY
The Testament of Simeon Peter 339
FERGUS MILLAR
Reflections on the Trial of Jesus 355
BIBLIOGRAPHY OF GEZA VERMES 383
Index of Ancient References 389

Index of Authors 403
EDITORS' PREFACE
We owe thanks to all the contributors for their scholarship and for
their patience with our prolonged labours. It has been a pleasure to
bring together in a single volume a wealth of first-rate scholarship.
But we also wish to record our appreciation of the many other
friends, students and colleagues of Geza Vermes who would like to
have participated in this tribute, but whose generosity we were
unable to accommodate. The large number of scholars upon whom
we could have called is a testimony to the esteem and affection in
which Geza is held; while we have enjoyed the task of editing this
volume, we have felt a very keen regret at the inevitable exclusions
which our responsibilities have imposed. Our particular thanks are
due to David Clines, whose editorial labours beyond the call of duty
removed many blemishes from the final proofs. David Neale
cheerfully completed the onerous task of indexing.
Finally, let this volume express our personal thanks to a much-
loved teacher and colleague. We are grateful for the privilege of
preparing for Geza Vermes this well-deserved tribute, which we hope
respresents a measure of the range and quality of his own
contribution not only to our understanding of the world of classical
Judaism and Christianity, its history and literature, but also to the
contemporary climate of Jewish and Christian scholarship whose
amicable yet critical cooperation he has done so much to foster.
Philip R. Davies
Richard T. White
Geza Vermes, Professor of Jewish Studies in the University of
Oxford and Fellow of the British Academy, was born on 22nd June
1924 and educated at the University of Budapest and the University
of Louvain. He edited Cahiers Sioniens from 1953-55 and then
worked at the Centre National de Recherche Scientifique in Paris,
before his appointment in 1957 to a lectureship in Divinity at
Newcastle University. In 1965 he became Reader in Jewish Studies
at the University of Oxford, where he has remained. He lists in
Who's Who as his recreations watching wild life and correcting
proofs.
ABBREVIATIONS
AB Anchor Bible
ANRW Aufstieg und Niedergang der romischen Welt
BAR Biblical Archaeology Review
BASOR Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research
BDB Brown-Driver-Briggs, Hebrew and English Lexicon
BMC G.F. Hill, A Catalogue of the Greek Coins in the British
Museum
BWANT Beitrage zur Wissenschaft vom Alten und Neuen Testa-
ment
CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly
CBQMS CBQ Monograph Series
CIL Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum
CPJ Corpus Papyrum Judaicorum
DJD Discoveries in the Judean Desert (of Jordan)
El Eretz Israel
EJ Encyclopaedia Judaica
HSM Harvard Semitic Monographs
HTR Harvard Theological Review
HUCA Hebrew Union College Annual
ICC International Critical Commentary
IDB Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible
IEJ Israel Exploration Journal
JANES Journal of Ancient Near Eastern Studies
JBL Journal of Biblical Literature
JJS Journal of Jewish Studies
JRA Journal of Roman Archaeology
JRS Journal of Roman Studies
JSNT Journal for the Study of the New Testament
JTS Journal of Theological Studies
JQR Jewish Quarterly Review
KB Kohler-Baumgartner, Lexicon in Veteris Testamenti Libros
NT Novum Testamentum
NTS New Testament Studies
NTSupp. Supplements to Novum Testamentum
PAAJR Proceedings of the American Academy of Jewish Research
Payne-Smith R. Payne Smith, Thesaurus Syriacus
PEFQS Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly Statement
PEQ Palestine Exploration Quarterly
Abbreviations 11
PG Migne, Patrologia Graeca

PW Pauly-Wissowa, Real-Encyclopddie der classischen Alter-
tumswissenschaft
RB Revue biblique
RGG Die Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart
RE} Revue des etudes juives
RHR Revue de I'histoire des religions
RQ Revue de Qumrdn
RTF Revue de theologie et de philosophic
RSR Recherches de science religieuse
SEG Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum
SJLA Studies in Judaism in Late Antiquity
Strack- H. Strack and P. Billerbeck, Kommentar zum neuen
Billerbeck Testament aus Talmud und Midrasch
SVTP Studia in Veteris Testamenti Pseudepigrapha
THAT Theologisches Handkommentar zum alten Testament
THKNT Theologisches Handkommentar zum neuen Testament
ThR Theologische Rundschau
TU Texte und Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der altchrist-
lichen Literatur
TDNT Theological Dictionary of the New Testament
TWNT Theologisches Worterbuch zum neuen Testament
TSAJ Texte und Studien zum antiken Judentum
WdO Die Welt des Orients
ZPE Zeitschrift fur Papyrologie und Epigraphik
WUNT Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament
WMANT Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen
Testament
Ancient Texts
Philo
Place. In Flaccum
Leg. All. Legum Allegoriae
Spec. Leg, De specialibus Legibus
Quaest. in Quaestiones et Solutiones in Genesim
Gen.
De Plant. De Plantatione
Vit. Mas. De Vita Mosis
Josephus
Ant. Antiquitates Judaicae
BJ Bellum Judaicum
C.Ap. Contra Apionem
12 A Tribute to Geza Vermes
Patristic
CCL Corpus Christianorum, Series Latina
GCS Die Griechischen Christlichen Schriftsteller
Adv. Haer. Epiphanius, Adversus Haereses
Apol. Justin Martyr, Apology
Barn. The Epistle of Barnabas
Ben. Jac. Jerome, De Benedictibus Jacob Patriarchae
Adv. Marc. Tertullian, Adversus Marcionem
Adv. Jud. Tertullian, Adversus Judaeos
Did. Didache
Horn. Clementine Homilies
1 Clem. 1 Clement
Panarion Haer. Epiphanius, Panarion (Haereses)
Classical
Hist. Romana Dio Cassius, Historia Romana
De Inv. Hermogenes, De Inventione
Pap. Lips. Papyrus Lipsius (Griechische Urkunden der Papyrus-
sammlung zur Leipzig, I)
Rabbinic
ARN Aboth deRabbi Nathan
b. Babylonian Talmud
Deut., Eccl. R. Deuteronomy, Ecclesiastes Rabbah
FT Fragmentary) Targum
Gen. R. Genesis Rabbah
M. Teh. Midrash Tehillim (Psalms)
MHG Midrash ha-Gadol
Pes. R. Pesiqta Rabbati
PR Pesiqta Rabbati
PRE Pirqe deRabbi Eliezer
PsJ(on) Targum Pseudo-Jonathan
t. Tosefta
Tan. Tanhuma
(T)N Targum Neofiti
(T)0 Targum Onqelos
y- Jerusalem (Palestinian) Talmud
PARTI
SEMITICA
THE LION OF THE TRIBE OF JUDAH HATH PREVAILED
Edward Ullendorff
School of Oriental and African Studies
University of London
In August 1988 the Countess of Avon (the widow of Anthony Eden,

the Earl of Avon) was kind enough to draw my attention to a framed
inscription in the Emperor Suite of the Grand Hotel, Eastbourne,
whose text is reproduced in this short article.1
The inscription contains a number of oddities, in particular the
assumption that the late Emperor Haile Sellassie's 'brave heart' had
earned him 'the title throughout the world of "The Lion of Judah'".
It is this element to which the present note is principally addressed.
But before I turn to this point, I need to refer briefly to the
conundrum of the date and to the somewhat unusual signature.
The Grand Hotel's text gives the date of the visit as 1936, and one
would imagine that they ought to know the date from their guest
register. The 1936 date also tallies with the description 'shortly after
fleeing his own country' at the time when the Fascist forces occupied
the capital Addis Ababa in May 1936. Yet the Emperor's dating, in
his own hand, is 1930 of the Ethiopian era (i.e. September 1937 to
September 1938). We know from his own autobiography and
countless other sources that he left Addis Ababa on Friday 23rd
Miyazya 1928 (= 1st May 1936). The remainder of the Gregorian
year 1936 corresponds to the Ethiopian year 1928 up to September,
and from September to the end of December to the Ethiopian
calendar 1929. Since Emperor Haile Sellassie was obviously aware of
the date on which he appended his signature, one can only assume
that this document was prepared and signed about a year after his
stay at the Grand Hotel, and in any event not before September
1937. Unfortunately, there is no reference to the Emperor's
Eastbourne visit in the second volume of his autobiography, nor in
Inscription kept in the Emperor Suite of the Grand Hotel, Eastbourne,

published by kind permission of the General Manager
ULLENDORFF The Lion of the Tribe ofjudah 17
any other relevant source known to me. One further detail deserves a
brief mention: the curious and, in my experience, unprecedented
omission of the second element (M) identifying the Ethiopian
calendar, i.e. 'A(mata) M(?hrai) 'Year of Mercy'probably no more
than a lapsus calami.
The signature is penned in Latin and Ethiopic characters. Both
show a practised hand. The Latin spelling (transcription) of the
name is that adopted by him in the past. In later years, on the very
rare occasions when he added a foreign transcription to the
Ethiopian original, there was usually an i before the final e of Selasse.
The appending of R.R. (Regum Rex) is distinctly unusual, though I
my self possess a specimen of this kind where the R.R. follows not the
Latin transcription of his name but the Ethiopian original. In the
Eastbourne signature the Ethiopic version of the name consists of
initials only: Qa(damawi) Ha(yla) S&(lasse) n*(gusa) na(gast\ the
last two words being, of course, the Ethiopic equivalent of R.R.,
'King of Kings'. I have never before seen the initialled form of the
Emperor's name as a signature, though I recall one or two instances
where these initials are penned along the margins of documents.
Both the Latin and Ethiopic characters are unmistakably written in
Haile Sellassie's own hand.2
I now turn to the main object of these lines. The Eastbourne
inscription is, of course, in error in assuming that it was Haile
Sellassie's brave stand in the face of brutal aggression in 1935-6 that
'earned him the title ... of "The Lion of Judah"'. Neither is this
phrase a title nor has it any connexion with any event in the last
Emperor's life. What is a venial fault in the Eastbourne document
must be reckoned an unforgivable solecism in the Minority Rights
Group's Report No. 67,1985 (The Falashas: The Jews of Ethiopia),
where Haile Sellassie is described as 'the self-styled Conquering Lion
of the Tribe of Judah' (p. 6). This statement is tantamount to
referring to Queen Elizabeth II as 'the self-styled Fidei Defensor*.
The latter is a (originally) papal conferment of the 16th century,
while the former is a long-established motto or emblem attached not
to the person of the Emperor but to the Ethiopian polity as such. It is
the merit of Sven Rubenson to have dealt with this matter in detail
and conclusively {Journal of Ethiopian Studies, III, 2, 1965, pp. 75-
85), while the present writer has endeavoured to elucidate the
problem in the context of his Ethiopia and the Bible (The Schweich
Lectures of the British Academy, Oxford University Press, 1968).
The Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, is derived from
Rev. 5.5 and in that context refers, of course, to Christ who will 'open
the book and loosen the seven seals thereof. The idea of the lion of
Judah goes back to Gen. 49.9 rrnrr m -IN 'Judah is a lion's whelp',
while the root of David relates to Isaiah 11.1. These expressions
underline the Biblical attachment of Ethiopia and its dynasty and in
particular the remarkable imitatio Veteris Testamenti. 'King of Zion'
or 'Israelitish Kings' are the ways in which Ethiopian Emperors have
traditionally referred to themselves. This tradition, established well
over a millennium ago, has now been brokenor at any rate
interruptedby the advent, since 1974, of alien ideologies imposed
upon this ancient realmuntil the day of perestroikadawns also in
this part of the Horn of Africa.
NOTES
1. I am very grateful to Lady Avon for copying the text for me and to the
General Manager of the Grand Hotel for letting me have the photograph of
the inscription here reproduced.
2. In a work by Ryszard Kapuscinski, entitled The Emperor: the Downfall
of an Autocrat (London, 1983), which has enjoyed a, to my mind undeserved,
vogue as a book and a play, it is averred that the 'monarch not only never
used his ability to read, but he also never wrote anything and never signed
anything in his own hand. Though he ruled for half a century, not even those
closest to him knew what his signature looked like' (p. 8). This statement,
like countless others in the book, is entirely fictitious (Richard Pankhurst, in
a letter to the Times Literary Supplement of 17 April 1987, has rightly
pointed out that Kapuscinski's work which has been accorded a Library of
Congress (and indeed British Library) classification for 'history' cannot, in
fact, be accepted as having a basis in history). Every literate Ethiopian will
have seen the late Emperor's signature in newspapers and books. I myself
possess many examples of his signature and his writing. This slur on the
reputation of Haile Sellassie is of a piece with so much current meretricious
scribbling, notably by those who neither knew the man nor possess any real
acquaintance with historic Ethiopiaor indeed knowledge of its languages.
PART II
DEAD SEA SCROLLS
TWO BIBLICAL HEBREWADVERBS
IN THE DIALECT OF THE DEAD SEA SCROLLS
P. Wernberg-M011er
Oriental Institute
University of Oxford
li
One of the linguistic peculiarities of the Dead Sea Scrolls is the form
in which the Hebrew adverb for 'exceedingly, greatly, very' (IND)
appears, both in the biblical and non-biblical documents. The root of
the word is Common-Semitic and is attested in nouns and verbs in
widely scattered Semitic languages, including the Canaanite dialects.
The originally substantival character of the common adverb is
clearly attested in Biblical Hebrew, not only in Deut. 6.5, cf. 2 Kings
23.25, but also in the prepositional expressions "IND, nD3, 1ND-W
and IND1?-!!',1 and the adverbial use of the word is correctly described
as an adverbial accusative.2 The same usage can be seen also in
Ugaritic.3 The form of the word in the Scrolls varies in two respects
from the standard form attested in the Masoretic Text.
Firstlyr, in the plene spelling of the word,4 the waw appears some
times before the aleph; cf. lQIsaa 16.6, 56.12 (TOD), and 47.6,9; 52.13;
64.8,11, attesting to the far more frequent form riTOD which occurs
also in 11QT (56.19),5 and llQPs3 (104.1; 119.41, 43, 96,107, 138;
139.14; 142.7; 145.3);6 in a few cases, however, the waw is 'correctly'
placed after the aleph (cf. e.g. rnwo in lQIsaa 38.17), reflecting
presumably the scribe's knowledge of the etymologically correct
form of the word. The measure of inconsistency appearing in these
orthographic variations is best explained by assuming that the aleph
was not, in fact, pronounced in this and a number of similar words in
which the glottal stop appears in medial position. TOD was therefore
probably pronounced /mod/, and nTOD and miND were realized orally
by the speakers of the DSS dialect as I modal. The fact that the word
is occasionally spelt without aleph (see below) points in the same

direction, and so does the circumstance that an etymological aleph in
medial position (after shewa, and between vowels) is fairly frequently
omitted in writing from a number of other words in our documents.7
Secondly, the adverb is spelt with a final n which cannot be the
consonantal element of a pronominal suffix and must be a mater
lectionis marking a vocalic ending which is likely to have been /a/.
That this is not the feminine ending is, I believe, generally accepted
by now, although throughout the 1950s, 1960s and even into the
1970s it appears to have been taken for granted by some scholars
that the longer form of the noun was a feminine form of the biblical
Hebrew masculine form.8 However, there is no sound basis for such
a view if examined etymologjcally and comparatively. Walter
Baumgartner's outstanding reputation as a careful scholar, whose
judgment could be trusted, may have been responsible for the
popularity of this mistake. It appears to have been Israeli scholars
who, rather than actually demonstrating the impossibility of the now
largely discarded view, propounded an alternative suggestion for
which there is a sound philological basis. Kutscher appears to have
been the first to take the n as the adverbial ending /a/. The Hebrew
original of his analysis of lQIsaa was published in 1959, a year after
Baumgartner's article in the Eissfeldt Festschrift,however, Baumgartner
was unable to take account of Kutscher's view which was not
published in English until 1974, the same year in which part II of the
revised version of Koehler's Lexikon was published.
ii
The most significant change in the linguistic analysis of the DSS
since the 1950s has come about by the effort to understand the
orthography and phonology in terms of phonetics of modern
linguistics. However, Kutscher and Qimron, in their important
publications already referred to, differ from each other in some
important respects.9 In spite of regarding the special orthographic
features as reflecting an oral tradition, Kutscher does not actually see
the DSS language as a spoken language, but as a literary vehicle
modelled as closely as possible on late BH, as attested e.g. in
Chronicles. According to Kutscher the Jews of Palestine did not
speak Hebrew during the last centuries BCE, although Hebrew
continued to be written and served largely as a literary language.10
WERNBERG-M0LLER Adverbs in the Scrolls Dialect 23
Kutscher does, however, allow for the possibility that archaic forms
survive in the DSS language which, he suggests, reflects the
lingusitic situation in Palestine during the last pre-Christian centuries
during which the Jews spoke Greek and Aramaic and BH was known
in at least three different reading traditions (Tiberian, Babylonian
and Samaritan). The orthography, with variants like ENO, KTI, awn
and enjn (cf. HIND, rmo, niNio and mo) is accounted for by
Kutscher and Qimron along identical lines: they both assume that
the glottal stop in medial position (i.e. after shwa and between
vowels) was not pronounced at the public reading of the sacred texts;
but Qimron regards the DSS as attesting to an actually spoken
Hebrew dialect and plays down the Aramaic influence which
Kutscher tends to regard as all-pervading. On their own, separate
premises, these two scholars are, of course, totally consistent, for
with Kutscher's view of Hebrew becoming largely a dead language in
late post-exilic times and Aramaic becoming the commonly spoken
language goes, of course, an emphasis on the Aramaic elements in
DSS language; and Qimron's insistence on the survival of Hebrew as
a spoken language among circles outside the mainstream of Judaism
carries with it the view of the special features of DSS language
(whether attested in biblical or non-biblical documents) as Hebrew
dialectal features. The main point of this quite important difference
between Kutscher and Qimron, which has a bearing on our present
concern, is that, to Qimron, the special features of DSS Hebrew such
as moda 'very', and the presence in the vocabulary of that language of
words known neither from other Hebrew sources nor from Aramaic,
can be explained only by assuming that DSS Hebrew is based on and
reflects a dialect which was actually spoken by the copyists of the
biblical DSS and by the authors and scribes responsible for the non-
biblical DSS.11 Although combining late-biblical, and post-biblical
Hebrew lingusitic elements with a sprinkling of Aramaic influence,
the Dead Sea Scrolls were copied and composed by writers who
spoke a Hebrew dialect with its own characteristic features, some of
which have come down to us in their writings. As has been said
above, the special vocabulary is important for Qimron's argument
and so is the fact that the special linguistic features of the DSS
dialect are found both in the biblical and non-biblical documents. On
Kutscher's premises (that Aramaic was universally spoken by the
Jews of Palestine in late post-exilic times and that the DSS language
was a literary language only) the impact of the language of the non-
biblical documents on the biblical ones is hard to explain: what

would be the point of introducing features of a late literary language
into a biblical text like the Book of Isaiah composed hundreds of
years before? If BH became a dead language in the course of the post-
exilic era and remained the language of the learned only, there would
have been no need for re-writing (or 'up-dating') the sacred texts. In
fact, any attempt to do such a thing would have been firmly resisted,
and the idea might not even have occurred to anyone. It is more
likely that there were Hebrew speakers throughout the period in
question and that some of these (religious) circles, whose language
was a Hebrew dialect, with a certain amount of Aramaic influence,
produced their own copies of the sacred texts. In official Jewish
circles such a procedure would, of course, not have been tolerated.
The kind of direct interference with the Hebrew text of a biblical
book, which we encounter in IQIsa3, would not have been tolerated
within the mainstream of Judaism.
iii
The longer form moda, with a final, unstressed /<z/, unknown in
Hebrew outside the DSS dialect, is a small, but distinct feature of the
language spoken in the circles which produced the DSS. The older
view that the n is a marker of the feminine gender has been dealt with
above. Qimron regards the ending as a locative termination which in
this and other adverbs has lost its original, locative function.12 He
does not, however, distinguish clearly between the originally
consonantal, local-terminative (or directional) n, and the adverbial
ending /a/, the latter being the ancient Common-Semitic accusative
marker, widely used as an adverbial case ending. Kutscher is more
precise on this point,13 as he rightly distinguishes between the
directional n and the adverbial ending, although he fails to describe
moda as an adverbial accusative pure and simple. It is clearly
unsatisfactory to regard the ending in moda as a locative ending
when a much simpler explanation (as a noun in the accusative,
functioning as an adverb) is available. The form is structurally
similar to Arab jiddan and there is nothing inherently unlikely in a
Hebrew dialect preserving in its spoken and written form a linguistic
element which has disappeared from the standard language, after the
dropping of short, final vowels (including case ending). Indeed, the
chance survival of isolated linguistic featues in a dialect spoken by a
group of people cut off from the mainstream of Jewry because of their
religious convictions, is very likely; some such theory would account
for some of the peculiarities of DSS Hebrew, found in both biblical
and non-biblical documents. Kutscher's cautious acknowledgement
of the possible survival of archaic features in DSS Hebrew14 is, of
course, consistent with his view that Hebrew died out as a spoken
language in late post-exilic times and so was not spoken by the circles
behind the Scrolls in any shape or form. However, on his premises,
the special features, (including archaic elements), in the DSS dialect
are difficult to account for. The common word moda 'very' which,
with one or two exceptions, is used throughout the texts, whether
prose or poetry, must reflect a peculiarity in the spoken language
which, together with other linguistic features (archaic and/or
dialectal), by a happy chance has come down to us.
iv
The spelling of the word "IND without the aleph occurs in an
apocryphal Zion psalm from Cave II.15 The word is clearly the same
as BH IND, the masculine noun, and the suffixed form STIO supports
the view that the longer form modd, common in the DSS Hebrew, is
not a feminine form.
C. Rabin, in a note on CD 9.11, suggested over thirty years ago
that HND 'power' perhaps occurs in mio in 1QS 10.16.16 The phrase
there, of which rnio forms a part (mio N^sra), is a little unusual and
has been dealt with in several different ways. In my edition of 1QS I
suggested (wrongly) that N^Bro was a defectively written infinitive
construct hiphil and that mio (= mm) was the object of that verb;17
the result was a rather unsatisfactory translation. G. Vermes's
rendering ('I will bless Him for his exceeding wonderful deeds'18
presupposes the taking of miD as the noun -IID (= IND) plus the suffix
for 3 masc. sing., as Rabin had already suggested (cf. above). The last
mentioned scholar regarded mio as parallel with the following imn:i;
however, as Vermes has seen, the poetic structure of the context
suggests that miD is not balanced by UTTDJ; besides, the variations in
the spelling of the suffix in close proximity, although not impossible,
would appear to be rather striking. Vermes's free rendering makes
good sense and reads well; it is a compromise solution which
combines Rabin's insight with the requirements of the context. But a
preferable solution emerges if mi (= miND) (read as modd) is taken
26 Ascent to Heaven in Jewish and Christian Apocalypses
prominent in the Book of the Watchers and the Astronomical Book, such
as secrets of nature.92 In addition, greater care has been taken to distin-
guish apocalyptic eschatology from the genre apocalypse as such.93 The
Book of the Watchers clearly belongs to the genre apocalypse, and it
contains some apocalyptic eschatology, although the center of its inter-
ests lies elsewhere. Nonetheless, because of its early date and wide influ-
ence it is of considerable interest even for the discussion of apocalyptic
eschatology.
For one influential school of thought, the origins of apocalyptic
eschatology lie in intracommunual tensions of the period of the return
from Babylonia.94 On the one hand, the argument goes, there emerges
a "hierocratic"95 group that finds the fulfillment of its hopes in the re-
building of the temple and the political power of priests, recognized as
the leaders of the Jewish community by the imperial rulers. On the other
hand, a "visionary" group remains loyal to the traditions of the proph-
ets and refuses to find in the reality of the present the fulfillment of the
prophetic visions. The visionary group, powerless against the priestly
establishment, becomes progressively more alienated from it. This alien-
ation leads to the divorce of prophecy from history and the emergence
of an eschatology that can now be characterized as apocalyptic.
For Paul Hanson, Ezekiel 40-48 plays a particularly important role
in the dialectic out of which apocalyptic eschatology emerges.96 He
admits that the vision comes from a priest "who [has] been denied [his]
temple."97 Since the chapters employ visionary forms, in the context of
Ezekiel's own time they might be considered truly visionary. Yet in the
end Hanson insists that Ezekiel's vision of the new temple is "the foun-
tainhead of the hierocratic tradition"98 and that even without regard to
later use it is essentially hierocratic:
The ultimate goal of Ezekiel's prophecy seems to be the promulgation of a
program of restoration which is dedicated to the preservation of the institu-
tions of the immediate past and which thus stands in marked contrast to the
themes of later apocalyptic such as the absolute break with structures of the
past and the imminent judgment followed by a new creation. The priestly
interests of Ezekiel are thus very visible beneath the visionary forms, and they
determine the use to which those forms are put: the temple would be rebuilt
according to the traditional patterns of the era immediately preceding the
Babylonian destruction, and the Glory of Yahweh would then return to a cultic
setting emulating that which existed prior to the exile."
There can be no doubt that Ezekiel's temple is in accord with "tradi-
tional patterns" if by that we mean that Ezekiel worries about the issues
involved in the proper maintenance of the sacred that have always con-
cerned priests. But the relationship between the details of his planand
for priests details are all-importantand the preexilic reality is far from
straightforward. 100 Hanson's claim that Ezekiel's plan calls for rebuild-
ing "according to the traditional patterns" might be paraphrased, "If
you've seen one temple, you've seen them all." Eor Hanson it settles
ii
In order to understand the etymology of naty it is necessary to refer
briefly to Ugaritic and classical Aramaic.21 In Ugaritic both the
shorter form tm and the longer form tmt are found, clearly
corresponding to Djy and no^ of BH; both words are used in the
locative sense 'there'.22 The form tmt shows that the vocalic ending
of noty originally had nothing to do with the he locale which has a
different history. A suffix Ital is known from classical Arabic where
tumma-ta is a variant of tumma 'then' (related to tamma 'there',
derived from the same root and of kindred meaning). Evidence of this
indeclinable, Proto-Semitic suffix, probably functioning originally as
a deictic element, is restricted to the West-Semitic speech area within
which the vocalization and function of the adverb, or adverbs,
formed from the root tmm varied dialectally, expressing a point in
time and/or space, and vocalized either with // or /a/, or both; and
Hebrew nDty can be seen to have evolved neither from samma (=
Arab. tmma\ nor from sdmmaha but from sdmmata > sdmmat >
samma. The original short vowel of the second syllable (to be seen
most clearly in the Arabic forms), though lost in Dtp, was preserved in
nDtP; it is best described as the adverbial accusative case ending
(rather than simply a connecting vowel), a well-attested function of
the accusative in classical Arabic to indicate time and place, among
other things.23 The old etymology of rxxo as DIP plus he locale is
therefore wrong and can safely be discarded. The particular history
of ntP became obscured, partly by the structural similarity of the
word with the he locale formations, and partly by BH usage in which
nDtP is overwhelmingly used in the local-terminative sense. However,
in its original form PICK; (>sdmmata) did not exclusively, or even
commonly, indicate the movement or direction towards somewhere,
as the suffix Ital never had that specific function; in this respect it
differs markedly from the originally consonantal he locale suffix /ha/
whose function was originally to indicate movement and direction.
The locative function of rasff (attested uiBH in 18 passages),24 should
therefore not be explained as due to the he locale having lost its
original, directional sense, but as an original semantic feature.
in
The (admittedly sparse) evidence of DtP and PiDtP from North-West
Semitic inscriptions is as follows: Phoenician and Old Aramaic
testify to at? in the locative sense, whereas in Moabite (closely similar

to Hebrew), Df, apart from its locative function, also functions in the
local-terminative sense after a verb of motion N#:.25 In these dialects,
as far as we know, the longer variant was not found, and Off
functioned in the locative, as well as in the local-terminative sense, at
least in Moabite. noty used in the local-terminative sense occurs in
the Lachish ostrakon no. 4, after a verb of motion (n1?^),26 and in the
Arad inscription no. 24.20, also after a verb of motion (n);27 this is
in accordance with BH which reflects linguistic usage in standard
Hebrew of the late monarchic period. The longer form retained its
locative function, at least in the literary language, as may be seen also
from BH.
The linguistic situation, as regards DC? and not? and their
equivalents in West and North-West Semitic, may be summarized as
follows: The shorter form in the locative sense is attested in Arabic,
Ugaritic, Phoenician, Old Aramaic, and BH; in the local-terminative
sense it is found in Moabite and BH. The longer form in the locative
sense is attested in Arabic, Ugaritic, and BH; cf. also Biblical
Aramaic non (with the stress on the final syllable); in the local-
terminative sense it is found in BH, and in non-biblical Hebrew of
the late monarchic period.
Of the languages and dialects listed, BH alone appears four times,
i.e. under both headings and in all sub-divisions. BH is therefore by
far our fullest source of information about the varied functions ofOff
and nDty with the related Semitic dialects affording valuable
additional background evidence, however scant; and in its frequent
use of riDty in the local-terminative sense Hebrew stands alone. There
is enough evidence to conclude that riDiy originally was a variant of
offand that the two forms originally shared the same semantic fields,
with some regional and dialectal variations which we are unable to
trace in detail for lack of evidence.
IV
As has been said above, the usage of Off and no&y in BH varies within
the same book, and sometimes even within the same verse, as e.g. in
Jer. 22.27; Isa. 34.15.28 The general impression is one of considerable,
apparently random use of the two adverbs.
Of special interest in the present context are the cases where Off
and na&y occur in the meanings 'thither' and 'there' respectively,
contrary to common usage in BH. The material is complex and

deserves a fuller treatment than can be given here; for lack of space,
only a few examples and some general remarks can be offered
here.
DP is used with a verb of motion (as e.g. in Jud. 19.15; 21.10; 2
Sam. 2.2; 17.18; 1 Kings 19.9), and is construed with verbs like nn: (2
Kings 6.9), nr (2 Kings 19.32), mn (Jer. 29.14); in this local-
terminative sense the adverb occurs fairly frequently in Jeremiah and
Ezekiel.29 In Deut. 1.37 MT has DP and SamP. HDP, elsewhere MT has
nDP and SamP. off as e.g. in Num. 33.54 (with NT) and Deut. 31.16
(with ma).
HDP is commonly used with verbs of motion, and with some verbs
the high degree of consistency may reflect idiomatic usage. Dii, for
instance, is always (except in Isa. 20.6, see below) construed with PIDP
and the same applies to jnj which, in the sense of'putting something
into something' (as opposed to 'putting something somewhere'), is
always construed with nDP except Exod. 40.7.30 In the locative sense
HDP is attested with verbs like 23P (Josh. 2.1)31 ran (= ton, Josh.
2.16), nap (2 Kings 23.8), rm (Gen. 43.30). ,Tn Qer. 27.22; Ruth 1.7).
These instances suffice to illustrate the locative function of HDP in
BH, and J. Hoftijzer is mistaken in his efforts to argue that
constructions with HDP in MT almost always imply an element of
movement.32 The BH material is too complex to be dealt with
synchronically, and it is only through a historical and comparative
study of the evidence that its variety in the usage of DP and nop
becomes clear.
The BH evidence suggests that in the course of time (i.e. within
the biblical period and later) not?, because of its formal similarity to
the he locale constructions, came to be used largely in the local-
terminative sense, and DP largely in the locative sense. Hebrew
dialects may well have varied in this respect; indeed, individual
speakers may, outside idiomatic usage, have had the choice to select
the one or the other of these variants according to personal
preference. To express emphasis HDP, for example, may have been
felt to be particularly effective rhetorically at the beginning of an
utterance; for examples of such possible emphatic use of HDP and
fion see Isa. 22.18; Jer. 27.22 and several other passages. Some
degree of variability in the spoken DSS dialect is suggested by
evidence from the biblical and non-biblical documents from Caves 1,
4, and 11 which in their usage of DP and fiDP differ significantly from
BH, although overlapping with the latter to some extent and sharing
with it the dual (locative and local-terminative) function of these

adverbs.
v
Offand HDP are both attested in the DSS although it is an interesting
linguistic fact that the longer form is not found at all in 1QS, 1QM,33
IQpHab and 1QH. off occurs frequently in these documents, always
in the locative sense, HDP in the locative sense is well attested in
11QT,34 IQIsa3 (see below), fragments from Cave 4, and llQPs3. It
is not possible, in the present state of knowledge, to explain why the
longer form does not occur in the texts from Cave 1 mentioned
above. The frequent use of HDP in the locative sense in the other
documents is a salient linguistic feature which points to a common
usage in the DSS dialect which can be seen to have affected the
linguistic shape of biblical passages and phrases, in biblical documents
(like lQIsaa) and in a non-biblical document containing a biblical tag
or allusion; and this usage of nP is found in non-biblical contexts as
well. In biblical or quasi-biblical contexts locative DP, although often
copied as not?,35 at times appears in its masoretic form; this is the
case in several passages in IQIsa3 (7.23; 13.20, 21; 23.12; 27.10).36
The same manuscript confirms the local-terminative use of DP in two
passages (37.33; 57.7), although generally DP of MT is replaced by
HDP.37 In a biblical quotation, or allusion to a biblical passage, DP of
MT is copied unchanged (see DJD VII, 504 1-2, VI. 13-14, after a
[reconstructed] verb of motion), but changed to HDP in the same text
(DJD VII, 504 1-2, V.I2, after the same verb (mn) which is
construed with either DP or HDP in MT. The DSS copyists were well
aware of the biblical usage of DP and HDP in their dual sense of'there'
and 'thither' and so, when copying or quoting Scripture, would at
times leave a DP (locative or local-terminative) of MT unchanged,
although in their spoken dialect they probably mostly tended to use
HDP in both senses. We can only guess at the precise extent to which
usage of DP was reduced in the spoken language. The shorter form of
the adverb may have been used in idioms and certain verbal
combinations, like e.g. DP pji (DJD VII, 492,1.10) and DP pn (Isa.
13.21; 27.10, copied unchanged in lQIsaa). Other fixed phrases,
attested both in MT and IQIsa3, are DP rftv (Isa. 57.7) and DP rvr
(Isa. 33.33); cf. above, under iv. Where MT varies, e.g. in constructions
with ND, I'm and TV, the DSS dialect prefers PIDP; the same tendency
can be seen to be the case even with a stative verb like pp; cf. Isa.
13.21, 65.9 in both of which passages IQIsa3 has HDP whereas MT
reads DP in the former and HDP in the latter (see n. 31 above). Where
MT uses HDP (locative), IQIsa3 confirms the longer form: it is never
changed to DP; and where MT has DP (locative) IQIsa3 has HDP in
four cases (13.21, 34.12,14,15). nap with rrn appears to have been a
common construction in the DSS dialect; cf. IQIsa3 35.8, 9; 48.16
(the same construction is not unknown in MT, see Jer. 27.22; Ruth
1.7); similarly, instead of DP p of MT, HDP p sems to have been
preferred (IQIsa3 34.12), although DP PN also occurs (DJD I, 27 1,
1.7).
As compared with BH the DSS testify to an extended usage of n&p
in the locative sense, with the retention of its local-terminative sense.
Both functions of HDP can be seen in DJD VII, 491 10,1.19 (HDP
[... nonuJriD ? niP" inw HOP TIBD* nonôn nn[in to]) where the
adverb occurs twice, once as a locative, and once (with a verb of
motion) as a local-terminative. This extension of HDP in the locative
sense is a feature of the spoken DSS dialect, on a par with the archaic
preservation of the accusative ending in /modal dealt with earlier.
However, DP was also part of the spoken dialect, as we have seen,
although its local-terminative function (attested in a fairly substantial
number of cases in BH) appears to have been severely reduced and it
functioned largely as a locative adverb. In addition to the instances
already mentioned, the combination DP "p3 may be mentioned; the
phrase (clearly echoing biblical phraseology) appears consistently in
this form only: the verb is never, in any of the texts published so far,
construed with n&P, see 1QM 14.3; 18.6, and DJD VII, 512, VII.5;
DJD V, 158 1-2.7. Familiar to copyists and speakers alike from the
Bible, the phrase was always copied in its biblical form and likely to
have been used thus in the spoken language also. Another instance of
locative DP occurs in DJD V, 174,1-2.4, in the phrase DP nsnnp 'my
holy ones are there'; although unlikely to have been part of the
spoken dialect, this case is nevertheless worth mentioning as another
example of DP in the locative sense, because it occurs in a text found
together with other texts in which nP (locative) was the rule rather
than the exception; perhaps DP was used in preference to HDP in
certain phrases, like e.g. DP nvr np (1QS 6.3,6; 8.13, cf. also Isa.
7.23 MT and IQIsa3), and there may well have been cases in the
spoken language where a significant distinction could only be upheld
and ambiguity be avoided, by using DP and not HDP and vice versa, as
e.g. the difference between oxr tea (1QM 19.11) 'to fall in that place'
and nDKf ^SJ (cf. Gen. 14.10; Exod. 21.33) 'to fall into that place'.
With the locative DE> and the local-terminative notr at their disposal
the DSS dialect speakers were presumably able to distinguish
between QXf (locative) and not? (local-terminative), in spite of the
marked increase in the usage of not? as a locative adverb, especially
in idioms where the distinction would be semantically significant.
However that may be, it was the greatly increased usage of noty in
the locative sense that made the (otherwise unknown) expression
PID^D 'from there' possible. One could, of course, conjecture that this
expression arose by analogy with nsino (Ezek. 40.40, 44). I prefer,
however, to see in this unique formation a dialectal variant of Dtyc,38
mainly because of the history of nDP in the locative sense within the
DSS dialect; in my view it should be seen as yet another linguistic
structure peculiar to the DSS dialect which came about when the
vocalic ending was no longer regarded as a case ending. In that sense
it is a secondary formation, presupposing (a) the loss of the case
system and (b) the spread of noty as a locative adverb. In this respect
the DSS dialect differed significantly from BH. The DSS dialect, by
its common usage of nosy as a locative, preserved an original feature
of the adverb which prevented its large-scale identification as a he
locale structure (to be seen in BH). In this respect the DSS dialect
was 'archaic' and 'conservative' as compared with BH in which the
original locative function of noty (as a variant of Dty) was largely
(though not wholly) lost, due to the formal similarity of the word to
the he locale structures.
The linguistic diversity among the speakers of Hebrew in post-
exilic times naturally extended beyond the characteristic usage of a
couple of adverbs like those dealt with above. However, the wider
implications of this important fact for the study of the history of the
religious circles that produced, or copied, the DSS lie outside the
scope of the present article.39
NOTES
1. See Gesenius/Buhl's Handworterbuch (1921), p. 392, and Brown/

Driver/Briggs' Lexicon, 1952, p. 547.
2. Cf. BOB, loc. cit.
3. Cf. Cyrus H. Gordon, Ugaritic Textbook, 1965, p. 430. For the use of
the accusative case to form adverbs in classical Arabic, see W. Wright, A

Grammar of the Arabic Language, I (1874), pp. 321f. As for BH, see
Gesenius/Kautzsch/Cowley, Hebrew Grammar (1910) (=G K), pp. 372-
75.
4. The word is spelt without a waw once in 1QM (12.12); see Y. Yadin,
The Scroll of the War of the Sons of Light against the Sons of Darkness,
Oxford, 1962, p. 252, and once in IQIsa3 (31.1).
5. Cf. Y. Yadin, The Temple Scroll, vol. I, Jerusalem, 1983, p. 30. In the
following TS stands for Yadin's edition.
6. Cf. DJD IV and J.A. Sanders, The Dead Sea Psalms Scroll, 1967, and
Y. Yadin, 'Another Fragment (E) of the Psalms Scroll from Qumran Cave 11
(HQPs3)', Textus 5 (1966), p. 4.
7. See E.Y. Kutscher, The Language and Linguistic Background of the
Isaiah Scroll, 1974, pp. 167ff., 498ff. Apart from Kutscher's authoritative
work the excellent descriptive treatment of the orthography, phonology,
morphology and syntax of the dialect of the Qumran documents by Elisha
Qimron (The Hebrew of the Dead Sea Scrolls, Harvard Semitic Studies 29)
1986 should be consulted; on mlD TWO, PHID see especially pp. 25,69,109,
117.
8. The entry in Koehler-Baumgartner's Hebraisches und Aramaisches
Lexikon, II, 1974, p. 511, is clearly in need of correction on this point which
reflects Baumgartner's erroneous view as expressed by him already in 1958
in Von Ugarit nach Qumran (Eissfeldt Festschrift), p. 29.
9. See also Kutscher's article on the language of the DSS in Encyclopaedia
Judaica 16 (1971), cols. 1583-90.
10. EJ, vol. cit., col. 1584.
11. Cf. Qimron, op. cit., pp. 117f.
12. Op. cit., p. 69.
13. See his Language and Linguistic Background, p. 414.
14. In EJ, loc. cit., cols. 1584,1586,1587; cf. also E. Tov, Textus 13 (1986),
p. 43, n. 29, quoting F.M. Cross.
15. DJD IV, p. 86, 1.2, and cf. the editor's comment, p. 88.
16. See his edition of The Zadokite Documents, Oxford, 1954, p. 46, n. 11.
Cf. also Qimron, op. cit., p. 25. The taking of miB as the adverb Very' in 1QS
10.16 is confirmed by closely similar phraseology in 1QH where the word is
spelt with and without aleph; see K.G. Kuhn, Konkordanz zu den
Qumrantexten, 1960, p. 113.
17. The Manual of Discipline, Leiden, 1957, p. 146.
18. See The Dead Sea Scrolls in English, Harmondsworth, 1962, p. 90.
19. Biblica 41 (1960), p. 144.
20. For this meaning of N^BH, see 2 Chron. 2.8.
21. A.F.L. Beeston, in A Descriptive Grammar of Epigraphic South
Arabian 1962, p. 52, suggested that South-Arabian tmt meant 'there', but
this view is no longer held by the experts who now favour the interpretation
of the word as a place-name (so Professor Beeston orally). I have therefore

omitted the South-Arabian material from the present inquiry.
22. Cf. J. Aistleitner, Worterbuch der Ugaritischen Sprache, 1974, p. 337.
23. Cf. n. 3 above.
24. See BDB, p. 1027.
25. For references, see H. Conner and W. Rollig, Kanaandische und
Aramdische Inschriften, III, 1964, pp. 24, 43.
26. Cf. Donner and Rollig, op. cit., I (1966), no. 194.8, and II (1968),
p. 194. Other readings of this line have been proposed by W.F. Albright and
F.M. Cross (for references, see Donner and Rollig, II, p. 195).
27. See Y. Aharoni, Arad Inscriptions, 1981, p. 46.
28. In Isa. 34.15 IQIsa3 reads HDP... HDP for DP... HDP of MT.
29. Cf. BDB, s.v. DP.
30. Similarly, n1?!? (normally construed with DP) appears to reflect
idiomatic usage in the spoken language which has preserved the construction
with DP in the local-terminative sense in a much used idiom. It is interesting
to note that IQIsa3 57.7 reproduces DP of MT, without changing it to HDP; on
the other hand, for Off in Ps. 122.4 HQPs3 reads HDP; see DJD IV (1965),
p. 24.
31. On the other hand, the verb pP, in BH construed with a variety of
propositions (DI% *W, P2, nnn, 2, "pro, ^B~*5P), is normally construed with
DP (Num. 9.17; Josh. 22.19; Ex. 43.7), but in Isaiah with DP (13.21) and
HDP (65.9); in both passages IQIsa3 reads HDP (see below).
32. See A Search for Method (1981), pp. 138ff. A similar view was firmly
rejected already by H. Hupfeld, Die Psalmen, III, 1860, pp. 329f., n. 66.
Hoftijzer does, however, acknowledge the 'rare' use of HDP with locative
function in BH, op. cit., p. 139, n. 436; but he ignores the history of the word
which alone can explain why the word is used in MT in the locative sense, in
both verbal and verbless sentences. T. Noldeke, although (as we can now see)
wrong in the etymology proposed by him, realized the archaic nature of BH
HDP in the locative sense; see his Manddische Grammatik, 1875, p. 204,
n.2.
33. In a fragment of the War Scroll from Cave 4 HDP occurs in the locative
sense (see below).
34. HDP in the local-terminative sense occurs only once in 11QT (46.13),
after a verb of motion (NSP). For occurrences of HDP in 11QT Yadin's
concordance in his edition, vol. II, should be consulted. DP occurs perhaps
once (32.10), but the reading is not certain.
35. See e.g. 11QT 63.2; DJD VII, 492 1.9, 10; DJD V, 174 1-2, 1.3.
36. In 35.9 IQIsa3 has rasff nTP Nl1? followed by DP NSC'1 MVrt with the
verbs, and not the adverbs, in perfect balance (MT: NSDn); a similar random
use of DP and HDP occurs also in MT, as has been said (cf. above, at the
beginning of section iv). A special case is IQIsa3 20.6 where, instead of the
unusual DP 1JDJ of MT, IQIsa3 reads DP "]DD1 This reading could have
come about because the copyist, on the basis of his knowledge of BH and his
familiarity with the usage in his spoken dialect, suspected that the verb was
wrong and in need of correction. The reason for the reading PiDBf in lQIsaa
13.20 after *?!V is uncertain, as we do not know how the copyist interpreted
the verb.
37. For references see Kutscher, op. cit,, p. 413. ilQty occurs with 1DP in a
non-biblical text from Cave 1 (DJD I, 22,1.2). In the Cave 4 material the
following additional example occurs: in a biblical paraphrase of Gen. 32.25
not? was added after the words rn1? SIplP inn 'and J. was left by himself
there1 (DJD V, 158 1-2.3, as plausibly reconstructed by the editors). In
llQPs8 rns Off(Ps. 133.2) appears as ITO HDP,probably with no difference
in meaning although the editor, I think wrongly, takes the reading in the
local-terminative sense and finds support for Gunkel's unnecessary emenda-
tion here (DJD IV, p. 44).
38. Cf. IQIsa3 52.11; 65.20, and the phrase noD Dlp^l in a non-biblical
fragment from Cave 4 (DJD V, 177.1-4.13). DIS^D occurs in the commentary
part of IQpHab (10.4), and in a Samuel-Kings apocryphon from Cave 6
(DJDIII, 9, 33.3).
39. The reader's attention is drawn to the important article by E. Tov
referred to in n. 14 above. Dr. Tov, in his wide-ranging survey, deals with the
orthography and language of the DSS and their origin and suggests that not
all the Scrolls were copied at Qumran; he thinks that, although some of the
documents on the evidence at present available to us are linguistically
unique, the dialectal peculiarities may not in fact have been confined to the
narrow religious circles of Qumran. However this may be, Dr. Tov's main
concern is to argue that the Qumran scribes wrote onlyor at least
primarilyin this particular language and orthography displaying the
special dialectal and orthographic features (cf. art. cit., p. 39).
HALAKHAH AT QUMRAN
Philip R. Davies
University of Sheffield
I have adapted the title of this article from L. Schiffman's important

monograph,1 conscious that both of its major terms have been
problematized in subsequent research. The problems relating to the
use of the term 'halakhah' concern orality, application, and relationship
to scripture. Baumgarten, for instance, has stressed the importance
of the distinction between Qumran written law and Pharisaic oral
law2 (though the basis of this distinction seems to me irrelevant,
since the Mishnah only claims to be oral, but is in fact written; any
written code might at one time have been oral3). The application of
the halakhah is rather more important: rabbinic halakhah is exoteric
and explicitly lays claim upon all Israel; the laws in CD or 1QS are,
as Schiffinan has demonstrated, esoteric, and while they lay claim
upon all Israel in theory, actually apply to members of communities
onlywhether or not these communities claim to be the 'true' or
'real' Israel.
It is the third issue which proves the most productive, however.
Rabbinic halakhah, according to the theory oi'Aboth, derives from
Sinai like the written law, though some of its content appears to be
the result of development of scriptural law and much of it not. There
is a similar ambiguity in the Qumran laws, many of which, as
Schiffman has shown, are exegetically derived from Scripture, but
parts of which, chiefly in the Community Rule (1QS), do not appear
to be.
Is it useful to speak of'halakhah' at Qumran? If by 'halakhah' is to
be meant only Pharisaic-rabbinic law, the term is not strictly
applicable to Qumran. If 'halakhah' be defined as a set of laws
governing the behaviour of a Jewish society, the term is appropriate.
Definition of the term is a matter of predilection, and I shall exercise
that predilection here by definingpurely for the purposes of this
paperwhat I shall mean by 'halakhah', which is: a body of law

governing Jewish behaviour which in practice or in theory derives
from scripture and acquires its authoritative status thereby. This
definition may even be implicit in Schiffinan's work, since he takes
this quality to be the property of all Qumran law. However, I shall
argue that Schiflman is not correct, and therefore that some Qumran
law is halakhah (in my sense) and some not. I also suggest that the
distinction between scripturally-derived and non-scripturally-derived
law is either explicit or implicit in the Qumran literature and not a
scholarly rationalization, and that the distinction is of fundamental
importance in Qumran research.
The topic of law in Qumran research is currently occupying a
great deal of attention. It has, of course, had a prominent place even
before 1947since Schechter's publication of 'Fragments of a
Zadokite Work';4 and in particular, the detailed comparisons of its
legal materials with Pharisaic/rabbinic halakhah by Ginzberg and
later Rabin.5 More recently, however, the publication of 11QT has
reemphasized the importance of the issue in Qumran studies. The
history and identity of the authors of the Scrolls is now being
increasingly assessed in terms of legal divergence. Research (and in
addition speculation) presently focusses on the apocryphal (i.e.
hidden away and not yet published) Miqat Ma'aseh Ha-Torah
(MMT), also referred to as a 'halakhic letter', a text which promises to
confirm legal issues rather than priestly dynastic rivalry as holding
the key to the prehistory and/or formation and development of
whatever we mean by the 'Qumran sect'. Whether it is a letter
remains very debatable; but 'halakhic' it appears to be, on my
definition.
II
Mention of the 'Qumran sect' introduces the second problematic

term of Schiffinan's title. In the present climate, influenced by the
assault of N. Golb on the supposition of a 'Qumran sect'6 and my
own suggestion that CD and 1QS (not to mention lQSa) describe
different communities,7 it remains licit to use 'Qumran' only in
respect of the geographical area or the manuscripts found in the
caves there, and not the community which has been for a long time,
and is still widely, assumed to have lived in what are now the ruins of
a settlement. With the presumption of a 'Qumran community', the
DAVIES Halakhah at Qumran 39
notion of a 'halakhah at Qumran' was meaningful whether or not it

was appropriate. But with two or more groups described in the texts,
it needs to be discovered whether they shared the same 'halakhah', or
indeed whether 'halakhah' is the appropriate term for the legal
materials of either or both communities. If it is true that law holds
the key to the origin and character of what most scholars still call 'the
Qumran sect', then it seems worth asking whether it also holds the
key to the distinction between different communities which, as I
have argued, are reflected in CD and 1QS respectively. Accordingly,
I now propose (a) to draw attention to the difficulties which have
already been encountered in defining 'the halakhah at Qumran' and
(b) to suggest that the theory of two different but related communities,
represented respectively by CD and 1QS, offers a better account of
the character of the legal materials at Qumran than previous
attempts at such an account have managed. More precisely, I want to
suggest that the legal (and indeed, social) basis of each community is
constituted rather differently, and that the term 'halakhah' is
appropriate to the one and not to the other.
(a) The Problem

By way of exemplifying the problem encountered in defining 'the
halakhah at Qumran', I draw attention to two as yet unresolved
disputes. The first was initiated by Y. Yadin in his edition of 11QT.8
On the basis of some similarities between this and other Qumran
texts, he affirmed that 11QT was definitely a product of the Qumran
sect. This verdict was subsequently assailed by Levine and Schifiman
among several others,9 who pointed with equal if not superior
justification to the differences between 11QT and other Qumran
texts. Further contributions to the debate testify to its importance for
halakhic research in the Scrolls.10 The evidence produced on either
side needs no rehearsing, nor is the problem amenable to solution by
pedantic reexamination of every particular case. Such issues are not
resolved by the democratic principle of majority vote, and the fact is
that certain similarities exist with other Qumran texts and certain
differencesalso. To complicate the issue further by resorting to the
term 'sectarian' takes us away from a solution, since it implies a
notion of orthodoxy, and projects, at least to the naive reader, the
idea that somehow all 'sectarian' systems might have a common
denominator.
The problem, in fact, lies with the problem, i.e. with the
formulation of the question. The question cannot be whether 11QT

has any connections with other Qumran texts, but what sort of
connections and with which texts. According to that reformulation,
the term 'Qumran' cannot be employed as a blanket designation for a
literary corpus; we have to address individual texts without prejudice
as to their overall integrity as a corpus. This is no new principle: it
has already been well expressed by Schiffinan as follows:
When first unrolled, and in the publications of Professor Yadin, it

was assumed that this text 11QT testified to the traditions of the
same group usually termed the Qumran sect, identified by most
scholars with the Essenes... Beginning soon after publication, a
series of articles, to which this writer also contributed, took issue
with this point, arguing that the Temple Scroll did not accord with
various teachings of the better known Dead Sea sect and that it had
to be considered as emerging from a closely related, but different
group... In fact, we are only now realizing the extent to which
the library at Qumran was eclectic...n
The second dispute to which I refer is between Schiffinan and

Weinfeld. In his Halakhah at Qumran^ Schiffinan had arrived at the
following conclusions: all Jewish groups in the Second Temple period
tried to assimilate extra-biblical teachings into their way of life. The
'writings of the Dead Sea sect' show that the group achieved this by
using the concepts nigleh and nistar, the former being the simple
meaning of Scripture revealed at Sinai and available to all Israel, the
latter hidden knowledge of the law, available to the sect only by
inspired biblical exegesis. Schiffinan goes further in suggesting that
these exegetically derived laws were eventually composed into
serakhim, lists of sectarian laws, and were then redacted into such
collections as CD and 4Q159 (the so-called 'Ordinances'). But
although Schiffinan deals for the most part with materials from CD,
he incorporates 1QS and 1QM into his analysis too.
In this analysis, there is one evident omission, namely the
considerable amount of material in 1QS which deals with matters of
discipline within theyahad. In a second monograph, which now uses
the term 'Sectarian Law' in its title,12 Schiffinan considers this, and
similar material in CD, concluding that while the legislation
contained herein had no evident basis in Scripture, it nevertheless
intended to fulfil the ideals of the Biblical legislation. This is
somewhat more than a considerable qualification of his earlier thesis,
and certainly invites an analysis of this kind of legislation from a

different point of view.
Such a point of view was indeed adopted by Weinfeld, for whom
the term serekh carries a different meaning in 1QS. It was 'coined
intentionally to serve as a substitute for the common Hellenistic
term for an association: Ttii<;'.13 Examining the 'penal code' (cols. 5-
7) of 1QS, he discovers a 'striking similarity to the codes of the
various associations of the Greco-Roman period',14 listing as
common concerns infidelity (sc. to the guild), ethics and morality,
insolence towards members and leaders, laws of evidence and classes
of penalties. Other common features are veneration of the founder of
the sect and renewal of the validity of the code. Differences between
the codes of non-Jewish guilds and the Qumran Sect are as follows:
in the latter, no rules about sacrifices, about funerals, or about
payment of dues, but, unlike the former, blessings and curses on
entry, religious moralistic rhetoric accompanying the ordinances,
hymnic material within the code and the formulation of the code for
the ideal future as well as for the present.
In one of his appendices,15 Weinfeld attacks the thesis of
Schiffman's Sectarian Law, claiming that the 'organizational rules of
the sect' have no basis in Jewish ideals, let alone exegetical processes,
but reflect the practices of Hellenistic associations. The character of
such legislation is thus rather typical of sectarian communities in
general. Specifically in the case of 'judges' and 'reproof, argues
Weinfeld, Schiffman has misunderstood the concept.
What are the issues in this dispute? They seem to centre on a
particular set of regulations, in which Weinfeld sees parallels with
Hellenistic sects generally and Schiffman with the principles of
Scriptural law. The problem is that both are construing the problem
in essentially the same way. Two examples from the texts will suffice
to illustrate this:
... if he kept silent at him from one day to the next, and spoke
about him when he got angry with him, it was a capital matter that
testified against him, because he did not carry out the commandment
of God, who said to him: 'Thou shalt surely reprove thy neighbour
and not bear sin because of him' (CD 9.6-8).
This passage is cited by Weinfeld, p. 40, who acknowledges that here

'there is a demand to reprove the accused person on the same day,
and it seems that the issue referred to is a sectarian homiletic
interpretation of scripture'Weinfeld is even able to identify the

interpretation as a midrash on Numbers 30, noting that CD cites
Num. 30.15 in proximity to Lev. 19.17. He fails to acknowledge that
Schiffman's theory is actually supported in this case.
On the other hand, stipulations about spitting in the assembly,
being improperly dressed, laughing foolishly, gesticulating with the
left hand, and similar misdemeanours (1QS 7), may well be in the
spirit of the Jewish Scriptures, but only in such a way that virtually
any Jewish practice can be so related given sufficient ingenuity.
These rules do not either explicitly or implicitly derive from
Scriptural authority, and it is improbable that they were arrived at
by a process of exegesis. In this case, Weinfeld has the better of the
argument.
Again, we see that both sides are right and both are wrong; again
the problem lies with the problem. The data and the conceptualization
require to be altered so that something other than contradictory
answers emerge.
(b) A Solution
As I have concluded above, the solution amounts essentially to a
reformulation, or a more precise formulation, of the problem
represented by the terms 'halakhah' and 'Qumran', in which both
terms are provisionally replaced. Instead of 'halakhah', which is a
certain kind of law, we address the phenomenon of law and legal
authority in general, from scriptural law, through law derived by
exegesis of scripture, to law without a scriptural basis. Even when
the precise lines of demarcation remain blurred, the essential
distinctions between these three kinds remain firm. 'Qumran' (or
even 'Qumran community') will be replaced by individual texts, in
each of which the status and character of law may be differently
presented. After, but only after, this task of analysis, the task of
synthesis will be appropriate.
Of course, a good deal of important and valuable work has been
done on the basis of individual documents, as the debate about, for
example, the relationship between 11QT on the one hand and
Jubilees16 or CD17 on the other. There has also been in recent years a
considerable change in the climate of opinion on the scrolls. The
well-directed and oft-repeated criticism by Golb of most of the
fundamental working hypotheses of Qumran scholarship have
succeeded in provoking a sort of agnosticism with regard to the
provenance of the Scrolls, which provides a much better methodology

for the analysis of laws than the earlier assumption of a single
'Qumran community'. However, this agnosticism has a tendency to
become dogmatic, perhaps because it has been necessarily also
iconoclastic. There is a danger, as I see, that in overturning the
foundations of the once prevalent consensus on Qumran all that has
been achieved by way of positive comparison between the texts
becomes abandoned. But if the coherence of the Qumran texts is not
remain as a dogmatic presupposition, then neither is their
incoherence.
Ill
As a point of departure for the present contribution to 'halakhah'

in the Qumran scrolls, I take, not surprisingly, my own conclusion
that the communities described in CD and in 1QS are different, but
relatedspecifically, that the yahad was formed by a group owing
allegiance to one who claimed the title moreh sedeq, given in CD 6.11
to an eschatological figure who would terminate the 'age of wrath'
and supersede the laws appropriate for that time by 'teaching
righteousness'. I suggested that what we find in 1QS, or at least in
the core of it attributed to the Teacher, is evidence of the kind of
radical revision of legislation that such a claim authorized.18
Since my hypothesis has been neither fully adopted nor rejected, I
propose to test it further by applying it to the solution of the problem
of law in the Dead Sea Scrolls, or at least to the disputes I described
earlier. Schifiman's opinion, quoted earlier, can certainly be endorsed:
the Temple Scroll did not accord with various teachings of the
better known Dead Sea sect and... had to be considered as
emerging from a closely related, but different group.
However, it appears that the direction in which Schiffman's halakhic
research is leading takes him towards what he calls 'Sadducees';19
curiously enough, the party with which I. LeVi, R. Leszynsky, G.
Margoliouth and R.H. Charles20 had associated the Zadokite
Fragments. It seems to me extremely probable, given the parallels
between CD and 11QT, that this 'closely related, but different group'
is the one I identified as the community of the 'Damascus covenant',
the community described in CD, but I shall not develop the
argument this far in the present essay.
From my conclusions about the clear distinction between the

communities of CD and 1QS, the question of the basis of law in these
writings yields a different aspect and indicates a different set of
answers. The Admonition of CD, as is well known, exploits
throughout scriptural texts and episodes from Israel's history as
recorded in scripture. Its argument with outsiders is at every point
addressed in terms of an appeal to a jointly acknowledged authority
the written scriptural law, an excellent example being the dispute
about marrying two wives in one lifetime (CD 4.20-21).21 Schiffman's
conclusion about the hermeneutic ofniglehand nistaris based almost
entirely on this document, and fully borne out by it. The one set of
community laws summarized (as I have maintained) in \heAdmonition,
CD 6.14b-7.6a, is quite evidently distilled from scriptural law, in
particular the Holiness Code (Lev. 17-26).22 It can be demonstrated,
with Schiffman, that the laws which govern the behaviour of the
community of CD are all derived from scripturewith one or two
exceptions. These exceptions occur exclusively in those parts of the
Admonition which I have concluded (on entirely separate grounds)
were not part of the original community's laws, but belong to
material which has been added as part of a recension of the text by
the yahad. Thus, in CD 20.2 we find: '.. .the same is the case with
every member of the congregation of the men of perfect holiness who
was loth to carry out the commands of upright men' (my italics); more
significantly, 20.27bff. reads:
But all they that hold fast to these rules, inasmuch as they go out
and go in according to the Law; and listen to the voice of the
Teacher of Righteousness ... and who give ear to the Teacher of
Righteousness and do not reject the righteous ordinances (huqqe
ha$$edeq) when they hear them...
Obedience to the law is here coupled with obedience to the Teacher,

quite unlike the way in which the tradition of legal exegesis of the
community is traced back to the 'Interpreter of the Law' in CD 6.7,
where is is clear that the process of 'interpreting the law' continues
within the community. Accordingly, authoritative exegesis is not
vested in any one figure until the 'Teacher' appears.
The Laws of CD are also derived from scripture. Sometimes this is
explicit, as when the formula *ser 'amar occurs (9.2, 9) or ki' kdtub
(11.20); sometimes it is a definition of a biblical law, as for example,
the precise time when Sabbath begins (10.15), or the amount of
water required for purification (10.11). Doubtless several of these

rules reflect common Jewish practice and were not exclusive to the
community; several parallels with rabbinic legislation can be found,
which does not prove that the community was a rabbinic one, or
even Pharisaic.
Certainly, a form-critical and source-critical investigation of the
Laws of CD is much needed. We must not be misled into assuming
an entirely coherent and monolithic legislation here, nor a complete
corpus. The organization and structure of the material in CD 9-16
remains a problem. We have reference to the serek mosab 'are
yisra'el (12.19) andserefc mosab hammahanot (12.23), reminding us of
the serek ha'ares of 7.6. Such references prompt us to ponder
the social organization of the community of CDindeed, to reflect
on whether 'communities' is not a better description. If CD itself
testifies to a certain homogeneity between different 'orders', it
remains a strong possibility that the possible diversityofserakhim
betrays not only a loose confederation but possibly an amalgamation
of related groups. It is worth bearing in mind this possibility, just as
we must acknowledge that in the Mishnah different legal opinions
are sometimes expressed alongside one another without entailing
that its laws point necessarily to different rabbinic communities. The
halakhic tradition of the community/communities represented by
CD will not have been monolithic (certainly not if some groups
contained families and others not)but as far as the evidence of CD
exhibits, it was presented and developed as a derivation by legal
exegesis from Scripture, and adhered to both as the law of Moses
(CD 5.8) and the will of God (3.13flf.) Although I shall not argue it
here, the form of the Temple Scroll is very well explained as a
codification of this halakhah in the form of divine speech to Moses, a
clear indication that for the community which produced it correct
interpretation of scripture was scripture.
Therefore, what Schiffinan says about 'the halakhah at Qumran'
applies at least to CD, although we have seen exceptions in CD 20.
The centre of the issue between Weinfeld and Schiffman lies,
however, in 1QS (as does the nub of the dispute about whether 11QT
is a 'product of the Qumran sect') because 1QS has always been seen
as the rule par excellence of the 'Qumran sect'. Now, no less than CD
(indeed, somewhat more), 1QS is a product of redaction. It proves
impossible to apply its contents, on the basis of a synchronic
approach, to the structure of a single community without a great deal
of conjecture and special pleading. (A notorious example is the case

of the 'Council of the Community', which has yielded a satisfactory
solution only when interpreted diachronically as representing an
early stage in the formation of the yahad.23)
According to the opening of the Community Rule the members of
the yahad are to live according to the serek hayyahad, 'that they may
seek God and do what is good and right before Him, as He
commanded by the hand of Moses and all His servants the
Prophets ...' That the aim of entrance into the yahad is obedience
to the will of God, as revealed in law and prophets, is said clearly
enough, but it is not said whether the rules within the serek hayyahad
themselves constitute the will of God as revealed in scripture, or
enable it to be fulfilled.The distinction is obvious and crucial; a
religious society, for example a monastic order (and I am not
implying that this is an appropriate analogy for the yahad itself, but
only for its rules), exists for the service of God, yet its rules are not
dictated by Godrather, they derive from a founder and are
intended to facilitate the service of God. The Rule of St Bendict, for
instance, is not scripture. It is not even halakhah, since its contents
do not claim or derive authority from scripture. Similarly, the rules
of behaviour for community members contained in 1QS are not
derived from scripture and do not claim to be. In many cases even
the topics are not prescribed by scripture.
It is true, of course, that in 1QS scripture is cited in support of an
attitude or rule, for example in 5.15: 'He shall indeed keep away from
him in all things: as it is written, "Keep away from all that is false"
(Exod. 23.7)'; cf. Isa. 2.22 cited shortly afterwards. Both texts are
cited in support of the command to keep away from outsiders;
whether they are used formally to authorize the ruling seems to me
doubtful; both biblical texts (and one is not from the Torah) are very
general and hardly argue for the specific ruling being givenit seems
to me that their citation serves an exhortative role, and not the
provision of a basis for halakhic exegesis. Since Schiffinan does not
use these citations in support of his contention that Qumran law is
exegetically derived from scripture, it may be that he concurs with
my judgment. Unlike him, however, I find no evidence that the laws
governing the behaviour of \heyahad in 1QS are either presented or
intended to be understood as derived from scripture.
This is not to say that adherence to scripture, however interpreted,
is not taken for granted in 1QS. Certainly, 1QS makes adequate
reference to trangression of the 'law of Moses' and the 'precepts of

God'. What role do these laws play in the yahad? On the assumption
that thisyahad developed out of the community of CD, it inherited a
tradition of legal exegesis as the basis for its communal life. How, if
at all, would it have continued that tradition, and how would that
tradition have been reconciled with the non-scripturally-derived
rules for communal life in the yahad? Indeed, do we have any
evidence from 1QS that such laws were inherited from the
'Damascus' community and functioned also in the yahad? The
evidence of 1QS is tantalizing on this matter. It certainly pays lip-
service to scripture, but nowhere delivers an unambiguous statement
about the way in which scripture applies within the yahad. The
silence is perhaps not accidental. It may be that a deliberate
ambiguity or ambivalence prevails. According to 1QS 6.6-7, 'where
there are ten, there shall never lack a man among them who shall
study (drs) the law continually, day and night, concerning the right
conduct of a man with his companion. And the congregation shall
watch in community for a third of every night of the year, to read the
book and to study law and to pray together.' But what is 'the book'
Scripture? If so, is exegesis an individual matter? We find in 1QS
9.16f. a reference to the 'counsel of the Law (torahj which the Maskil
shall conceal from the 'men of the Pit'but the counterpart is that
he provides 'knowledge according to the spirit of each', the 'mysteries
of marvellous truth' to the membersnot interpretation of the
law.
The kind of ambivalence to the authority of scripture in the yahad
entails a certain attitude towards the laws of CD. Whether or not, as
I have argued, CD was redacted in the yahad, fragments of its
contents are among the materials from caves 4, 5 and 6. What was the
status of these contents within the yahad? On the one hand, the
yahad claimed to be the true heir of that community, while on the
other, it believed that with the advent of the 'Teacher' the 'laws for
the period of wickedness' were no longer necessarily operative. Was
the halakhah of CD operative in the yahad or not? Or how much?
The answer to this question requires a very close scrutiny of those
passages in CD and 1QS (i.e. CD 20 and 1QS 8-9) in which can be
seen some overlap in terminology and in historical context. According
to CD 20.27ff.: 'All they that hold fast to these rules (mispatim\
inasmuch as they "go out and go in" according to the law (ford);
and listen to the voice of the Teacher... and who learn from the
former judgments (mispdtim hdri'sdnim} by which the men of the

yahad (emending yhyd, as also in 20.14) have been judged; and who
give ear to the voice of the Teacher of Righteousness...' Twice in this
passage we have a pairing: first law/voice of the Teacher, then
mispdtim hdri'sdnim /voice of the Teacher. I suggest that the first
element in each pair is matched, and consequently the second too:
the mispdtim hdri'sdnim are the laws of the community of the
Damascus covenant, laws which are derived from Scripture, taken to
be the meaning of Scripture, and hence torah (the equation explicit
in CD 6.4). But this law, says the text, is in some way equivalent to
the 'voice of the Teacher'. The status of the Teacher with regard to
the torah fits very well with what is prescribed for one 'who will
teach righteousness at the end of days' in CD 6.11he will bring to
an end the period of wickednessand the laws which apply to it. His
voice will replace, supersede, or definitively interpret the law. Which
of these is the case only further scrutiny of the texts will show.
1QS 9.9-10 appears to confirm this interpretation of CD 20.27'ff.:
'They shall depart from none of the counsels of the law (torah) to
walk in the stubbornness of their hearts (cf. CD 3!), but shall be ruled
by the mispdtim hdri'sdnim in which the men of the yahad were first
instructed until the coming of the Prophet and the Messiahs of
Aaron and Israel'. Here too there is also a reminiscence of CD 6.11 in
the combination of 1. set of laws/rules, 2. the phrase 'ad bd\ and 3.
future messianic figure. Another close parallel is with CD 12.23,
where the men of the community 'walk in these (?) until the rise of
the Messiah of Aaron and Israel'. The key to understanding 1QS 9.9-
10 is the identity of those who will walk in the mifpafim hdri'sdnim.
The explanation generally offered is that these are the men of the
yahad. Their exact identity needs further investigtion. But for the
present, the important point is that it was by these mispdtim
hdri'sdnim that the men of the yahad were first instructed. Does this
phrase illuminate for us a period early in the formation of the yahad
when the halakhah of the 'Damascus' community was still being
observed as its exclusive law? For where is the voice of the Teacher
here? And why are a prophet and Messiahs awaited? This question
takes us somewhat farther from the topic of this essay, and I shall
develop it elsewhere.24
I hope I have here prepared the ground for an examination of the

relationship between CD (except for p. 20) and 1QS in terms of the
legal authority subsisting in each text. This authority is essentially

quite different in each case, for the two communities respectively
represented are separated by the presence of an authoritative figure
whose 'voice' is treated as in some way equivalent to Torah. This
investigation has led to the conclusion that it is precisely the eclipse
of halakhah that characterizes theyahad in opposition to its parent.
This eclipse may have been gradual, and never total, but it suggests
that 'halakhah at Qumran' is a seriously misleading slogan.
NOTES
1. L.H. Schiffinan, The Halakhah at Qumran, Leiden: Brill, 1975.

2. 'The Unwritten Law in the Pre-Rabbinic Period', in J. Baumgarten,
Studies in Qumran Law, Leiden: Brill, 1977, pp. 13-35.
3. Cf. also J. Milgrom in respect of the Temple Scroll: 'There was only one
difference [between the Qumranites and the rabbis), and it made all the
difference. It is exemplified by their respective use of the exegetical
technique of homogenization/fcwyan 'db. In the Temple Scroll it produced
Scripture. For the rabbis it produced oral law' ('The Qumran Cult: Its
Exegetical Principles', in G. Brooke [ed.], Temple Scroll Studies, Sheffield:
JSOT Press, 1988, pp. 165-80, quoted from p. 178).
4. S. Schechter, 'Fragments of a Zadokite Work', in Documents of Jewish
Sectaries, Cambridge: CUP, 1910, reprinted with a Prolegomenon by J.A.
Fitzmyer, New York, 1970.
5. L. Ginzberg, Eine unbekannte Judische Sekte, New York, 1922 (ET
New York: KTAV, 1970); C. Rabin, Qumran Studies, Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1957 (reprinted New York: Schocken, 1975).
6. N. Golb, 'Who Hid the Dead Sea Scrolls?', Biblical Archaeologist 48
(1985), pp. 68-82.
7. P.R. Davies, The Damascus Covenant, Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1983.
8. Y. Yadin, The Temple Scroll, Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society,
1984 (1987 ET, revised).
9. B.A. Levine, 'The Temple Scroll: Aspects of its Historical Provenance
and Literary Character', BASOR 232 (1978), pp. 5-23; L.H. Schiffinan, 'The
Temple Scroll in Literary and Philological Perspective', in W.S. Green (ed.),
Approaches to Ancient Judaism II, Chico: Scholars Press, 1980, pp. 143-
58.
10 See, inter alias, B.-Z. Wacholder, The Dawn of Qumran: The Sectarian
Torah and the Teacher of Righteousness, Cincinnati: HUG, 1983; H.
Stegemann, 'The Origins of the Temple Scroll', in VT Supplements 40,
Leiden: Brill, 1988, pp. 235-56; 'The Literary Composition of the Temple
Scroll and its Status at Qumran', Temple Scroll Studies, pp. 123-48; Y. Yadin,
'Is the Temple Scroll a Sectarian Document?' in G.M. Tucker and G.A.
Knight (eds.), Humanizing America's Iconic Book, Chico: Scholars Press,
1980, pp. 153-69; M.R. Lehmann, 'The Temple Scroll as a Source of
Sectarian Halakhah', RQ 9 (1977-78), pp. 579-87.
11. 'The Temple Scroll and the Systems of Jewish Law of the Second
Temple Period', Temple Scroll Studies, pp. 239-55, quotation from p. 239.
12. Sectarian Law in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Courts, Testimony and the
Penal Code, Chico: Scholars Press, 1983.
13. M. Weinfeld, The Organizational Pattern and the Penal Code of the
Qumran Sect, Fribourg: Editions Universitaires/GSttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht, 1986, p. 13.
14. Ibid., p. 23.
15. Appendix E: The Recent Monograph of Schiffman, pp. 71-76.
16. L.H. Schiffinan, 'The Sacrificial System of the Temple Scroll and the
Book of Jubilees', in K.H. Richards (ed.), SBL Seminar Papers 1985, Atlanta:
Scholars Press, pp. 217-33; J.C. VanderKam, 'The Temple Scroll and the
Book of Jubilees', in Temple Scroll Studies, pp. 211-36.
17. P.R. Davies, 'The Temple Scroll and the Damascus Document',
Temple Scroll Studies, pp. 201-10; B.-Z. Wacholder, 'Rules of Testimony in
Qumranic Jurisprudence', JJS 40 (1989), pp. 163-74.
18. The Damascus Covenant, pp. 123ff., 203; 'The Teacher of Righteousness
and the End of Days', RQ 13 (1988), pp. 313-17.
19. The main impetus for this is provided by the still unpublished
4QMMT; see Schiffinan, 'The Systems of Jewish Law' (cited n. 11), pp.
245ff.
20. I. Lvi, 'Un ecrit sadduceen antdrieur a la destruction du Temple', REJ
65 (1913), pp. 24-31; R. Leszynsky, Die Sadduzder, Berlin, 1912 (esp. pp.
142-67); R.H. Charles, 'The Zadokite Fragments', in R.H. Charles (ed.),
Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament, Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1913, II, pp. 785-834.
21. See P.R. Davies, Behind the Essenes. History and Ideology in the Dead
Sea Scrolls, Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987, ch. 4 and bibliography cited
there.
22. See J. Murphy-O'Connor, 'A Literary Analysis of Damascus Document
VL2-VIII,3', RB 78 (1971), pp. 210-32; Davies, The Damascus Covenant, pp.
133ff.
23. For arguments in favour of this view, see E.F. Sutcliffe, The Monks of
Qumran, London: Burns and Gates, 1960, pp. 58ff. and 254ff.; A.R.C.
Leaney, The Rule of Qumran and its Meaning, London: SCM Press, 1966, p.
211; J. Murphy-O'Connor, 'La genese littgraire de la Regie de la Communautd',
RB 76 (1969), pp. 528-49; J. Pouilly, La Regie de la Communaute de Qumran,
Paris: Gabalda, 1976, pp. 15-34.
24. In a forthcoming article in RQ 5 (1990).
THE TEACHER OF RIGHTEOUSNESS -
A MESSIANIC TITLE?
Michael A. Knibb
King's College
University of London
I
The teacher of righteousness appears to have played an important
role in the history of the Qumran community, but despite his
importance it is surprising how little precise information we have
about him. Explicit references to the teacher are found only in the
Damascus Document and the biblical commentaries, and none of
these writings is very informative. The Damascus Document uses the
title 'the teacher of righteousness' (pis mio) only twice (1.11; 20.32),
but refers to the same figure by the titles iwn mio (20.1) and
Ttrn m-p (20.14), i.e. 'the unique teacher' orreading iriM for
Tim'the teacher of the community'. A fifth passage (6.11) refers to
'the one who shall teach righteousness at the end of days'
(D"srn mrwa piun rnr), and this will occupy us later. Of the other
references, the first occurs in the well-known account of the origins
of the community that forms the introduction to the Admonition
(1.1-2.1) and tells how God 'raised up' the teacher of righteousness
at the end of a twenty-year period during which the members of the
community had wandered, conscious of their guilt, like blind men;
the second occurs in the conclusion to the admonition (20.22b-34)
and describes faithful members of the community as those 'who obey
the teacher of righteousness'; the third and fourth both occur in a
secondary passage concerned with the exclusion of apostates (19.33b-
20.22a) and refer to the 'gathering in', i.e. the death, of the teacher.
This passage dates from the decades immediately after the death of
the teacher and indicates that at the time at which it was written the
community was demoralized, and there was a serious risk of a
wholesale defection of members to a rival group under the leadership
of'the liar'. In addition, the teacher is apparently also mentioned in

the Well Midrash (6.2b-lla) by the title 'the interpreter of the law'
(rmnn tnn).
The references to the teacher of righteousness in the biblical
commentaries are more numerous, but they also are not all that
informative. Here the Hebrew expression used is pnxn rrno and once
npisn miD (IQpHab 2.2). Several references (4QpPsa 1-10 3.19; 4.27;
4QpPsb 1.4; 2.2) occur in contexts that are too damaged for much to
be made of them. Apart from these, 4QpPsa 1-10 3.15b-17a refers to
the role of the teacher as the founder of the community: 'Its
interpretation concerns the priest, the teacher of [righteousness,
whom] God [chjose to stand be [fore him, for] he appointed him to
build for him a congregation [of...'. IQpMic 10.4-7 (which survives
only in fragmentary form) and IQpHab 8.1-3a mention the teacher
in relation to his followers, and the latter passage states that these
followers will be saved from judgment 'because of their suffering
and their faithfulness (HJDN) to the teacher of righteousness'. In an
important passage (IQpHab 7.1-5a) concerning the interpretation of
prophecy the teacher is described as the one 'to whom God made
known all the mysteries of the words of his servants the prophets',
and the role of the teacher as an interpreter of prophecy is also
mentioned in IQpHab 2.7-10a, where the teacher is referred to as
'the priest in whose [heart] God put [understand] ing'. Disputes
between the teacher of righteousness and the group led by 'the liar'
are mentioned in IQpHab 5.9b-12a, 2.1b-3a, and in 4QpPsa 1-10
1.26b-2.1a, where the teacherin reference to his role as interpreter
of scriptureis called 'the interpreter of knowledge'. The biblical
commentaries, particularly the Habakkuk Commentary, also refer to
a figure called 'the wicked priest', but in the commentaries as they
now exist the teacher and the wicked priest are mentioned together
in only three passages: IQpHab 11.4-8a states that the wicked
priest pursued the teacher to his place of exile in order to 'confuse'
him and his followers on the day of atonement, while IQpHab 9.9-
12awith its parallel in 4QpPsa 1-10 4.8-10arefers to God giving
the wicked priest into the hand of his enemies 'because of the iniquity
committed against the teacher of righteousness and the men of his
council'.
The above is the sum total of the explicit references to the teacher
of righteousness in the Qumran scrolls, and it will be apparent that
the information they provide is relatively limited. The passages listed
KNIBB The Teacher of Righteousnessa Messianic Title? 53
above centre around a small number of themes: the role of the

teacher as founder of the community, and as interpreter of scripture;
his disputes with 'the liar' and his followers, and with the wicked
priest; the importance of obedience and faithfulness to the teacher;
and the demoralization caused by the death of the teacher. The
situation is made worse by the fact that the biblical commentaries,
which provide a major part of our evidence, date from some time
after the death of the teacher, and that in any case many of the
comments they contain are exegetically based, and are not motivated
by a concern to convey precise information. This is not to say that we
have no historical information about the teacher, nor that what is
said in the scrolls about the teacher cannot be fitted into a historical
framework, and I have indicated elsewhere my general approach to
these questions.1 But it does appear to me that the scrolls tell us
much less about the teacher than we sometimes imagine.
The situation would be materially different if we could with
confidence assign to the teacher any of the writings which, at one
time or another, have been attributed to him: at an early stage in
Qumran research, the Community Rule, the Rule of the Congregation,
the War Scroll, the Hymns,2 more recently Jubilees, the Temple
Scroll, and Miqsat ma'ase ha-torah (some of the precepts of the
Torah).3 Here the hymns should perhaps be discussed first of all in
that they do appear to contain statements of an autobiographical
kind.
Many scholars have assumed that the Hymnsor at least a
number of them, the so-called 'Hymns of the Teacher'4were
composed by the teacher of righteousness and are a direct reflection
of his experiences, and they have therefore used the Hymns to build
up a picture of the personality of the teacher and to reconstruct
incidents in his life. The article by Lignee in the Memorial Jean
Carmignac (1988) is a very recent example of this kind of approach,
which goes back to the early stages of Qumran research. Lignde
argues that the Hymns abundantly reflect the teacher's controversy
with 'the liar', whom he identifies with John Hyrcanus,5 and he
quotes a number of passages from the Hymns in support of the view
that under John Hyrcanus the teacher of righteousness was arrested,
imprisoned, tried, and condemned to exile. Thus, for example, 1QH
4.8b-9a, 'They have banished me from my land like a bird from its
nest', and 5.7b-8a, 'You have placed me in a dwelling (nuoLignee,
like Dupont-Sommer, misleadingly translates 'place of exile') with
many fishers who spread a net upon the face of the waters and (with)
the hunters of the sons of iniquity', are taken to refer literally to an
exile of the teacher during the period of office of John Hyrcanus.6
Both passages have been used in a similar way for biographical
purposes by previous scholars.7 But this kind of approach to the
Hymns fails to take account of their literary genre. The literary forms
used in the Hymns, as Holm-Nielsen demonstrated, represent a
continuation and development of the literary forms used in the
canonical psalter,8 and the Hymns are cast in the kind of language
familiar from the psalter. Furthermore, the vocabulary and imagery
employed in the Hymns are heavily dependent on the Old Testament.
Thus, in the example mentioned, the exile need not be interpreted
literally, but may be only a symbol for distress, 9 and in any case the
first passage quotes from Prov. 27.8, the second is built up from Jer.
16.16 and Isa. 19.8. In view of these considerations it is difficult to
interpret the Qumran Hymns as referring to the concrete experiences
of a specific individual. It is impossible to say whether the 'Hymns of
the Teacher', much less the collection as a whole, were composed by
the teacher or not, but they cannot be used to reconstruct details of
the career and character of the teacherany more than the
confessions of Jeremiah can be used to do the same for Jeremiah. Nor
do I find any evidence for the suggestion made by Philip Davies that,
whoever wrote the Hymns 'within the Qumran community these
hymnsand at the very least the autobiographical oneswere
understood to be compositions of the "Teacher"'.10
As to the other writings mentioned above, it is of course
conceivable that they were written by the teacher of righteousness.
This is the kind of thing that it is difficult either to affirm or deny.
However, it does seem very unlikely that they can all have been
written by himboth because of the different character of the
individual writings, and because some of them (the Community Rule,
the War Scroll, the Temple Scroll} are clearly composite. It also seems
very unlikely that the teacher was the author of Jubilees, which is a
work that is not sectarian in character and is addressed to all Israel.
In contrast, there is no doubt a case for thinking that the teacher was
at least responsible for the composition of the oldest layer in the
Community Rule, i.e. columns 8-10, the programme for a group that
was about to withdraw into the wilderness in order to be able to
observe the law exactly in accordance with the group's particular
interpretation of it, because it is difficult to dissociate the teacher
from the withdrawal to Qumran. Of the other writings, the Temple

Scroll and Miqsat ma'ase ha-torah (MMT)deserve further consideration
inasmuch as Garcia Martinez has recently suggestedas part of
what he has called 'a Groningen Hypothesis'that the former may
have been composed by the teacher, and that both are in any case to
be associated with him. He argues that the Temple Scroll comes from
the formative period before the community led by the teacher broke
with the Essenes and withdrew to Qumran and thinks that MMT is
only slightly lateron the assumption that it was written immediately
after the break had occurred.11
The oldest manuscript of the Temple Scroll dates from about 150,
but the work itself may be somewhat older than this. Its composition
certainly antedates the formation of the Qumran sect, but it is not
clear to me that its contents are sufficiently distinctive to enable us to
associate it specifically with the teacher, or to claim more for it than
that it is a pre-Qumranic Essene work. The situation is perhaps a
little different for MMT, which has a marked polemical character.
The editors of this as yet unpublished work have described it in a
preliminary study12 as a halakhic letter which sets out the areas in
which the group behind the document differed from its opponents
and which had led to its separation from the majority of the Jewish
people. The fact of separation is explicitly stated in the epilogue: 'We
have separated ourselves from the majority of the peo[ple...] from
intermingling in these matters and from participating with them in
these [matters]'. The main body of the work consists of a cultic
calendar (only partially preserved) and a list of halakhot, and the
polemical character of the work is indicated by the formula with
which each halakhah beings: 'and (also) concerning X we say that'.
Of the topics of controversy on which the sect differed from its
opponents, the editors draw attention to three: (1) the cultic
calendar; (2) ritual purity (especially in connection with the Temple),
and the sacrificial cult; (3) laws on marital status. They suggest that
'MMT is a letter from a leader of the Qumran sect (possibly the
teacher of righteousness himself) to the leader of its opponents
(possibly Jonathan or Simon)', and that it may be 'the earliest
Qumranic work, probably written immediately after the separation
of the sect'.13 In qualification of this view Garcia Martinez thinks
that MMT was addressed not to the Hasmonaean rulers, but to the
religious group from which the sect had separated.14
It is only after the extant fragments of MMT have been published
that it will be possible to make a judgment about where exactly this

document belongs in the course of events by which, first, the Essenes
emerged as a distinct group within the Jewish community, and then,
at a later stage, the teacher-group separated from the Essenes. The
problem about doing this is that the beginning of the document,
which might have given us more information as to its historical
context, has not survived. Clearly it is conceivable that the document
was written by the teacher, and that it stems from the critical
moment at which he and his followers broke away as a separate sect.
But other possibilities need to be kept open. Be that as it may, the
point I wish to make here is that according to the information we
have so far been given, MMT gives no indication that the document
was written by the teacher of righteousness, and indeed makes no
reference to him whatever. The same is also true of the other
documents we have been discussing, and were it not for the
references to the teacher in the Damascus Document and the biblical
commentaries we would not be aware of the existence of the teacher of
righteousness or of his important role in the history of the Qumran
community.
II
It is against this background that I would like to consider the
suggestion that 'teacher of righteousness' was a messianic title. This
suggestion emanates from Philip Davies and was originally made in
his comprehensive study of the Damascus Document entitled The
Damascus Covenant.^5 He has repeated the suggestion elsewhere16
and recently elaborated it in an article in the Memorial Jean
Carmignac.11 His argument is based on an interpretation of the Well
Midrash in CD 6, and it is perhaps worth quoting the passage here in
full:
(5.20) And in the time of the desolation of the land movers of the
boundary arose and led Israel astray, (21) and the land was made
desolate because they preached rebellion against the commandments
of God (given) through Moses and (6.1) through the holy anointed
ones; and they prophesied lies to turn Israel away from following
(2) God. But God remembered the covenant with the men of
former times, and he raised up from Aaron men of understanding,
and from Israel (3) men of wisdom, and made them hear (his
voice). And they dug the well: the well which the princes dug,
which the nobles of the people laid open (4) with the sceptre. The
well is the law, and those who dug it are (5) the converts of Israel
who went out from the land of Judah and sojourned in the land of
Damascus. (6) God called all of them princes because they sought
him, and their [rejnown was not disputed (7) by the mouth of
anyone. And the sceptre is the interpreter of the law of whom (8)
Isaiah said: 'He produces a tool for his work'. And the nobles of the
people are (9) those who come to lay open the well with the staffs
with which the ruler decreed (10) that they should walk during all
the time of wickedness, and without which they will find nothing,
until there appears (11) the one who shall teach righteousness at
the end of days.
This passage refers to the founding of the community that lies behind
the Damascus Document, and to the revelation given by God to that
community, and these events are presented as marking the end of
Israel's state of exile.18 The Well Midrash elaborates the theme of the
revelation given to the community. Two individuals are mentioned
within it: 'the interpreter of the law' (mmn inn, 6.7) and 'the one
who shall teach righteousness at the end of days' (mnjc p-ran mr
D^DTi, 6.11). The former individual is commonly assumed to be the
one elsewhere called 'the teacher of righteousness', the latter is
clearly a messianic figure, as is confirmed by the related passage in
12.23b-24a which refers to certain laws being valid 'during the time
of wickedness until there appears the messiah of Aaron and Israel'.
However, Philip Davies, as part of a much larger theory that the
origins of the Essenes are to be traced to the Babylonian exile,19
argues that 'the interpreter of the law' was the founder of the
community described in CD 6, and that 'the one who shall teach
righteousness at the end of days' is the figure who in later layers of
the Damascus Document and in the biblical commentaries is referred
to in the past.20 He bases his argument not only on the obvious
similarity between the title pnsn mr in 6.11 and the title pnx mio or
pixn miD, but also on considerations drawn from the two other
passages in the Damascus Document which refer to the founding of
the community, pages 1 and 4. Thus he argues that on page 1 the
founding of the community and the arrival of the teacher in it are
kept quite distinct, and that the teacher 'cannot therefore be the
rrnnn inn of 6.7, who is placed at the beginning of the community's
foundation'.21 In CD 4, in which, as he points out, the founding of
the community is presented in a very similar way to that of CD 6, no
reference is made to either the interpreter of the law or the teacher.
But he notes that the idea in CD 4 that the laws established at the
foundation of the community remain valid 'until the completion of

the time' (4.8b-9a, cf. lOb) has a parallel in the idea in CD 6 that the
ppinon ppn ntw mppino (line 9) remain valid until the arrival of the
pnxn mr at the end of days. (This last point does confirm the view
that the pnsn mr is a messianic figure, but does not help his main
point unless one already accepts that CD 6 refers to the historic
teacher.) Philip Davies further believes that his theory regarding the
teacher of righteousness offers an explanation for the founding of the
Qumran sect:
References to the MWRH $DQ as a figure of the past in CD and
the pesarim must imply that this figure, or one accepted as this
figure, had indeed appeared. Accordingly, one may expect his
followers to anticipate the end of the present era, and to accept any
abrogation of the laws which the teacher authorised. (We may also
wonder whether the arrival of this figure was acknowledged by all
those who expected him.) In the light of these logical deductions,
what we know of the Qumran community becomes entirely
plausible. If a community, which apparently preceded the formation
of the Qumran sect, anticipated a future figure whose arrival that
sect proclaimed, we have the essential answer to the formation of
the Qumran sect itself, formulated not in terms of external factors
such as wicked priests or general desertion of the law, but in terms
of what can very loosely be called 'messianic pretension'.22
This argument has been accepted by Murphy-O'Connor in his
article 'The Damascus Document Revisited' (1985), but he takes it a
stage further in that he assumes that the teacher also appropriated
the messianic title 'Prince of all the Congregation'.
Not only does [Philip Davies's] interpretation furnish an explanation
of why the ex-High Priest became known to his followers as the
Teacher of Righteousness, but it also provides a more adequate
rationale for his proposal that the Essenes should move to the
desert. I had suggested that this was essentially a pragmatic
solution to the problems posed by a hostile environment, but the
heightened sense of the imminence of the eschaton implicit in the
ex-High Priest's claim to be the expected Teacher of Righteousness
is certainly a more adequate motive. Equally, the reaction of the
Man of Lies should no longer be seen in terms of envy, but as the
repudiation of an eschatological claim that exhibited no solid
guarantees...
If, as seems highly probable, this personage assumed the title of
Teacher of Righteousness on the basis of [CD] 6.11, it is likely that
he also appropriated the title Prince of all the Congregation from

7.20. Both are seen as the eschatological counterpart of the
Interpreter of the Law, the founder of the community in Babylon,
and both occur in documents which antedate the conversion of the
ex-High Priest.23
If we may for the moment leave on one side the question of 'the
prince of the whole congregation', there are, it seems to me, several
reasons why it is unconvincing to suggest that the teacher of
righteousness was accepted by his followers as the messiah, that is, as
the one who fulfilled the messianic prophecy of CD 6.11. In the first
place, if this were so, we would expect to find some clear reflection of
it in the Qumran scrolls; but there is no evidence of this kind in the
scrolls unless it is assumed that the use of the title 'the teacher of
righteousness' is itself sufficient evidence. In fact, as we have seen,
the teacher is explicitly mentioned in only a limited number of
passages, and in none of these is it in any way suggested that he was
regarded as the messiah.
Secondly, the fact that there is a connection between the title
pisn mio that is applied to the messiah in CD 6.11 and the title
plan mio that is given to the founder of the Qumran sect does not
seem particularly significant. The title used for the messiah in CD
6.11 has been taken from Hos. 10.12 (n:^ pis rm wa^-w) and refers
to the teaching functions of the messiah, probably here regarded as a
priest, a function that is also alluded to in the application to the
priestly messiah in 4QTestimonia of Deut. 33.8-11. The use of the
title pnxn mio to refer to the founder of the Qumran sect is no doubt
likewise based on Hos. 10.12, and also perhaps on Joel 2.23
(npns1? mion-fiN D31? jnr-o). But the connection between the two
titles ought not to lead us to assume that the historic teacher was
regarded as the messiah in that we have a clear case in the scrolls
where the same title is applied both to a figure of the past and to a
messianic figure. Thus there is no question that the minn ann of CD
6.7 is a figure of the past, and that the minn enn of 4QFlor 1-3 1.11,
who accompanies 'the branch of David', is a messianic figure.
Thirdly, a major part of Philip Davies's argument against the
identification of the interpreter of the law of CD 6.7 and the teacher
of righteousness of CD 1.11 is that the former is placed 'at the
beginning of the community's foundation', the latter comes to an
already existing community.24 However, the reference to the
interpreter of the law occurs in the middle of the Well Midrash (CD
6.3b-lla), as part of the explanation of the various elements in Num.

21.18, and it is not at all clear to me that it is possible to conclude
from this passage that the interpreter belongs to the very beginning
of the community's foundation; his place in the chronological
sequence of events depicted in the Well Midrash is uncertain-
assuming it is right to think in terms of a sequence. The problem is
made more complicated by the fact that it is not clear to which
community the Well Midrash refers, the Essene movement or the
Qumran sect. The Damascus Document, although in origin pre-
Qumranic, presupposes the break between the teacher-community
and those Essenes who remained loyal to 'the liar'. The Well Midrash
refers to the community it describes as sojourning 'in the land of
Damascus'. There has been much debate concerning the meaning of
'the Land of Damascus', but it still seems to me most probable that it
is a symbolic expression for Qumran. If this is so, the Well Midrash
refers to the settlement of the teacher-community at Qumran, and
this would confirm the view that the interpreter of the law and the
teacher of righteousness are to be identified.
For these reasons it seems to me unconvincing to argue that the
teacher of righteousness was accepted by his followers as the
messiah. This conclusion, if correct, makes Murphy-O'Connor's
suggestion concerning the title 'Prince of all the Congregation'
somewhat improbable. A major part of his argument is that if the
founder of the Qumran sect assumed the tide 'Teacher of Righteousness'
from CD 6.11, 'it is likely that he also appropriated the title Prince of
all the Congregation from 7.20'.25 But if the former suggestion seems
unconvincing, the latter must seem even more so, and there is in fact
no evidence whatever in the scrolls to indicate that the founder of the
Qumran sect appropriated the title 'Prince of all the Congregation',
or was so regarded by his followers.26
Ill
Part of Philip Davies's argument is the suggestion that the formation
of the Qumran sect is to be explained 'not in terms of external factors
such as wicked priests or general desertion of the law, but in terms of
what can very loosely be called "messianic pretension"'.27 If the
rejection of external factors is correct, the suggestion of 'messianic
pretension' is unconvincing, and it is much more likely that the
causes of the split of the Qumran sect from its parent community are
to be sought in the teaching given by the teacher. This point has

recently been emphasised by Garcia Martinez in an article entitled
'Qumran Origins and Early History: A Groningen Hypothesis',28
and in the final part of this study I would like to consider briefly this
aspect of the 'Groningen Hypothesis'.
Central to the argument presented by Garcia Martinez is the view
that a clear distinction is to be drawn between the origins of the
Essene movement and those of the Qumran group. The origins of the
Essene movement are traced by Garcia Martinez to the Palestinian
apocalyptic tradition of the third century, and the emergence of the
Essenes as a distinct movement is placed at the end of the third or the
very beginning of the second century, before the crisis provoked by
Antiochus Epiphanes. The origins of the Qumran group are traced
by him to a split in the Essene movement caused by the arrival
within it of the teacher of righteousness and by the eschatological
views and the halakhah which he taught; after a formative period of
controversy and ideological development, which lasted throughout
the period of office of Jonathan and Simon and only reached its
culmination during the period of office of John Hyrcanus,29 those
loyal to the teacher are held to have broken away to form a separate
sect and to have withdrawn to Qumran. According to Garcia
Martinez, it was the halakhah taught by the teacher rather than the
eschatology that was the major source of controversy within the
Essene movement that ultimately led to the separation of the
Qumran group, and he argues that the Temple Scroll and MMT cast
an important light on the halakhic issues in dispute.30 As we have
noted, he assigns the Temple Scroll to the period of controversy
before the community broke away, but thinks that MMT is slightly
later on the assumption that it was written immediately after the
break had occurred. In his view the Temple Scroll may have been
composed by the teacher of righteousness, and both works are in any
case to be associated with him. On the evidence provided by these
two documents he maintains that the fundamental disputes within
the Essene movement were centred on the calendar and on halakhot
relating to the temple cult, ritual purity, and, to a lesser extent,
marriage.31 As he rightly points out, the sectarian halakhah
developed within the Qumran group is based on a particular
interpretation of the underlying biblical laws, and he comments:
How is it possible to explain the emergence within the Essene

movement of this particular way of interpreting the biblical
prescriptions laid down by the sectarian halakhah? The answer to
this question is no other than the Teacher of Righteousness'
consciousness of having received by divine revelation the correct
interpretation of the biblical text, an interpretation which is thus
inspired and prescriptive, and the acceptance by some of the
members of the community of this interpretation as a revelation.
The rejection by the rest of the members of the Essene movement
of this interpretation and of the particular halakhah deriving from
it would end by making it impossible for them to stay together.32
Whether Garcia Martinez is right in his views about the authorship
of the Temple Scroll and about the circumstances in which both this
work and MMT were composed, or not, on the main point at issue
here, what factors led the Qumran sect to break away from the
Essene movement, the approach of Garcia Martinez seems to be
more plausible, and to be more solidly based in the texts, than the
suggestion of'messianic pretension'. Thus the texts clearly reflect the
importance attached to the teaching given by the teacher and claim
divine revelation as the justification of the particular interpretation
of the biblical text on which the teaching was based. Negatively, the
importance of the teaching given by the teacher is reflected in what is
said about the false teaching of 'the liar' (4QpPsa 1-10 1.26a-2.1a;
IQpHab 10.9-10; cf. CD 1.14b-15a; 8.13). Positively it is inherent in
the titles applied to the teacher: 'teacher of righteousness' (or
'legitimate teacher'), 'interpreter of knowledge' (4QpPsa 1-10 1.27),
and 'interpreter of the law' (CD 6.7)assuming, as seems to me the
case, that the latter title does apply to him. The idea that the teaching
given by the teacher was based on divine revelation is emphasized in
the Habakkuk Commentary, both in the well-known passage on the
meaning of prophecy in 7.4-5a: 'Its interpretation concerns the
teacher of righteousness to whom God made known all the mysteries
of the words of his servants the prophets'; and even more in 2.1b-10a:
'[The interpretation of the passage concerns] the traitors with the
liar, for [they did] not [believe the words] of the teacher of
righteousness (which he received) from the mouth of God... And
likewise the interpretation of the passage [concerns the traijtors at
the end of days. They are those who act ruthflessly against the
covena]nt, who do not believe when they hear all the things that [are
to come upon] the last generation from the mouth of the priest in
whose [heart] God put [understand] ing that he might interpret all
the words of his servants the prophets, through [whom] God foretold
all the things that are to come upon his people and [his congregation]'.
It has perhaps not been sufficiently be noticed, however, that the
Habakkuk Commentary refers only to the interpretation of prophecy,
not that of the law. This suggests that at the time at which the
commentary was composed, apparently in the early part of the first
century BCE, it was the eschatological teaching of the teacher that
had become a particular point of issue.
The contribution that Geza Vermes has made by his published
writings to our understanding of Judaism, including not least our
understanding of the scrolls, has been enormous. This brief study is
offered to him in friendship and gratitude for the help he has given
his fellow scholars.
NOTES
1. See M. A. Knibb, The Qumran Community (Cambridge Commentaries

on Writings of the Jewish and Christian World 200 BC to AD 200, 2),
Cambridge, 1987; idem., Jubilees and the Origins of the Qumran Community,
An Inaugural Lecture delivered on 17 January 1989, King's College London,
1989.
2. Cf. e.g. A. Dupont-Sommer, The Essene Writings from Qumran,
Oxford, 1961, pp. 71-72, 200; J. Carmignac in J. Carmignac et P. Guilbert,
Les Textes de Qumran traduits et annotes, I, Paris, 1961, pp. 85-86.
3. For Jubilees, see H. Lign6e, 'La place du Livre des Jubil6s et du
Rouleau du Temple dans 1'histoire du mouvement Esseiiien. Ces deux
ouvrages ont-ils 6t6 Merits par le Maitre de Justice?', Memorial Jean
Carmignac, Revue de Qumran 13 (1988), pp. 331-45 (here pp. 340-42). For
the Temple Scroll, see Y. Yadin, The Temple Scroll, Jerusalem, 1983,1, pp.
394-95. For 4QMMT, see E. Qimron and J. Strugnell, 'An Unpublished
Halakhic Letter from Qumran', Biblical Archaeology Today, Jerusalem,
1985, pp. 400-407 (here p. 400). Cf. recently J.C. Reeves, 'The Meaning of
MOREH $EDEQ in the Light of HQTorah', Memorial Jean Carmignac, pp.
287-98 (here pp. 295-98).
4. For the Hymns of the Teacher, see G. Jeremias, Der Lehrer der
Gerechtigkeit (Studien zur Umwelt des Neuen Testaments, 2), 1963, pp. 168-
267.
5. Memorial Jean Carmignac, pp. 332-33.
7. For 1QH 4.8-9a, cf. e.g. Jeremias, Der Lehrer der Gerechtigkeit, pp.
211-12, 217. For 1QH 5.7b-8a (see also 5.5), cf. e.g. Dupont-Sommer, The
Essene Writings, pp. 214, 364; Carmignac in Carmignac et Guilbert, Les
textes de Qumran, I, pp. 213-14.
8. S. Holm-Nielsen, Hodayot: Psalms from Qumran (Acta Theologica
Danica, 2), Aarhus, 1960.
9. Cf. Holm-Nielsen, Hodayot, p. 81.
10. P.R. Davies, Behind the Essenes: History and Ideology in the Dead Sea
Scrolls (Brown Judaic Studies, 94), Atlanta, 1987, pp. 89-90.
11. F. Garcia Martinez,'Qumran Origins and Early History: A Groningen
Hypothesis', Folia Orientalia 25 (1988), pp. 113-36 (here pp. 121-22, 124).
12. Qimron and Strugnell, Biblical Archaeology Today (above, note 3), pp.
400-407.
13. Biblical Archaeology Today, p. 401.
14. Folia Orientalia 25 (1988), p. 122.
15. P.R. Davies, The Damascus Covenant: An Interpretation of the
"Damascus Document" QSOT Supplement Series, 25), Sheffield, 1983, pp.
119-25.
16. Behind the Essenes, pp. 28-30.
17. "The Teacher of Righteousness and the "End of Days'", Memorial Jean
Carmignac, pp. 313-17.
18. For more details, see Knibb, The Qumran Community, pp. 45-50.
19. Cf. The Damascus Convenant.
20. Cf. Memorial Jean Carmignac, p. 314.
21. Memorial Jean Carmignac, p. 315.
23. J. Murphy-O'Connor, 'The Damascus Document Revisited', RB 92
(1985), pp. 239-44 (here pp. 241, 243).
25. RB 92 (1985), p. 243.
26. Murphy-O'Connor's discussion does, however, raise some interesting
issues about the relationship between CD 7.96-8.2a and 19.5b-14, which I
hope to return to elsewhere.
28. Folia Orientalia 25 (1988), pp. 113-36.
29. This aspect of the hypothesis presupposes acceptance of the suggestion
by van der Woude that the term 'the wicked priest' in IQpHab refers not to
one particular Hasmonaean high priest, but to the sequence of Hasmonaean
high priests from Judas Maccabeus to Alexander Jannaeus, who are referred
to in a precise chronological order; cf. A.S. van der Woude, 'Wicked Priest or
Wicked Priests? Reflections on the Identification of the Wicked Priest in the
Habakkuk Commentary', JJS 33 (1982), pp. 349-59. This is an attractive
suggestion, but I remain unconvinced that a precise chronological sequence
is plausible within the context of IQpHab.

32. Folia Orientalia 25 (1988), p. 124.
THE HOUSE OF PELEG IN THE DEAD SEA SCROLLS*
Richard T. White
New York
One of the more perplexing problems of the non-biblical Dead Sea

Scrolls is their relationship to the Bible. They use so many words and
phrases of biblical origin that they often appear to be pastiches. This
is particularly true of the Damascus Document where scarcely any
completely original phrases seem to have been turned. Comprehension
of such a stylistically cumbersome and elusive text is further
hampered by the fact that no Dead Sea scroll was written with a
twentieth-century readership in mind, for today's understanding of
the Bible is completely different from that of the Second Temple
period. Any word or phrase will have been understood in terms of
ancient exegesis and our modern biblical commentaries are frequently
of little help.
Rabbinic interpretations often come to our aid for they are a
development of the same exegetical tradition of which the Dead Sea
Scrolls are an early offshoot. Despite the fact that the Rabbis and the
sectarians differed in their immediate concerns and in the application
of their biblical text there is a great deal of similarity between them.
Not infrequently a comment in one of the scrolls is identical to a later
rabbinic comment, even one made a millennium or more later. This
paper is concerned with the implications of looking at one termthe
House of Pelegin the light of rabbinic interpretation.
The House of Peleg (J*7B irn) appears twice in the scrolls; in the
Damascus Document (CD 20.22) and the Nahum Pesher (4QpNah 3-
4 iii 11iv 1). The second part of the name probably derives from
the Biblical name Peleg which is found in Gen. 10.25. The dictionary
etymology of the name'separation'was originally thought to be
ideal as a designation of the sectarians themselves,1 but more recently
there has been a tendency, using the same etymology, to see the
House of Peleg as a group who have broken away from the Qumran
sect proper2 or as a separate group entirely.3 Gen. 10.25 tells us that
Peleg got his name because 'in his days the earth was divided',
alluding to the dispersing of the nations after the building of the
Tower of Babel in Gen. 11.1-9. The Rabbis called this generation the
Generation of the Separation (n^sn in) and developed many details
not obvious from the Hebrew text of Gen. 11. I contend that the
writers of the Dead Sea Scrolls already knew some of the midrashic
ideas associated with the Generation of the Separation, and when
they wrote about the House of Peleg they had one eye on Gen. 11 and
its interpretation and the other on the contemporary group to whom
this label is applied.
Damascus Document (CD) 20.22-27

A
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
1
2
3
4
5
6
4QpNah 3-4 iii 11-iv 1
N.B. The lacunae in the quotation from Nah. 3.9 have been filled in from
MT.
WHITE The House of Peleg 69
A. 1. ... the House of Peleg

2. who went out from the holy city
3. and relied on God (or: claimed to rely on God)
4. in the period of Israel's sin.
5. And they polluted the Temple.
6. But they will return to God.
7. And the people [will be appejased with modest word[s.
8. A] 11 of them will be judged, each according to his spirit, in the holy
council.
B. 1. And all who have broken the boundary of the law

2. among the members of the covenant,
3. when the Glory of God appears to Israel,
4. they will be cut off from the mid[st] of the camp
5. and with them all those who lead Israel astray
6. in the days of his purgings.
'Ethiopia and Egypt were her strength and it was infinite. Put
and Lubim were thy helpers' (Nah. 3.9). Its interpretation: the evil
ones [of Judah], the House of Peleg, who are joined with
Manasseh.
CD 20.22-27 is extremely difficult; virtually every phrase contains

some problem. As soon as a decision is made on one problem it forces
an improbable explanation of another. Some of the difficulties are to
be explained by the fact that there are a number of quotations and
allusions in the passage. These have not necessarily been fully
accommodated to their new context. Further, the writer was often
more concerned with the logic and rhetoric of his extremely
complicated argument than with its literary flow and cohesion.
Finally it is by no means certain that pages one to eight and twenty of
the Damascus Document (the so-called Admonition) were written by
one person4 or for that matter even whether parts A and B originally
belonged together.5
There are three places where the readings are problematic. At the
beginning of A.I, there is a space where there is no visible text.
Furthermore, some read simply J^s rpa,6 others ??> rpDD.7 Hence we
do not know whether the text refers to a group who have broken
away from the House of Peleg or to the entire house. Nor indeed is it
clear whether the House of Peleg is a group or an institution.
In A.6 there is a mark which looks like a waw above "ir, suggesting
a correction to "nr and hence a completely different relationship with
A.7 which itself begins with a word of which only the final kaph is
clear. With the reading my in A.6 this lacuna has been reconstructed
to read oêyo omna oyn Tin ? my ntsn, 'and they returned to the way
of the people in a few respects'.8 The disadvantage of reading my is
that it removes what appears to be a quotation of Isa. 19.22.
Immediately before J*?S n*2 in the Nahum Pesher there is a lacuna
that is usually filled with niMD or nmrr, so that 'House of Peleg' is in
apposition to one of these groups. Other possibilities have not been
tried.
The Departure from the Holy City

On the assumption that the Holy City is Jerusalem (and the miqdash
is the Jerusalem Temple), the House of Peleg did exactly what the
Generation of the Separation did. They went out DipD (Gen. 11.2),
which it is usual to translate as 'from the east'. Syntactic and
geographical difficulties notwithstanding, mpo is the location of the
Garden of Eden (Gen. 2.11). Ibn Gikatilla draws attention to the fact
that the same expression is used in both verses and makes the
obvious deduction that the same place is intended.9 In this he is
anticipated to some extent by Philo.10 The Garden of Eden (or the
spot immediately outside it) is equivalent to the Temple, though the
precise understanding of that equivalence varies from commentator
to commentator. This was well known to the writers of the scrolls
who frequently combined 'garden' imagery with 'temple' imagery.
The equation of Garden of Eden = Temple = Jerusalem is standard
in rabbinic exegesis and was already used within the Bible itself. In
view of the wording of B.4, we should mention another midrashic
synonym of these three terms'camp'. The fact that both Gen. 11.2
and Num. 10.34 contain the phrase ayoja was noted by Tosafot who
link 'as they journeyed from the east' with 'when they went out of the
camp'.11
Reliance on God
A.3 is a quotation from Mic. 3.11, which Rabin feels is made
'contrary to the context'.12 I assume he means that in the Biblical
text this phrase means 'claimed (falsely) to rely on God', whereas
here it is to be taken literally as 'they (actually) relied on God'. There
is no disputing that Rabin is correct in his assessment of the biblical
text but that was not the way that R. Jose bar Elisha understood it.
He commented, 'They were evil, except that they put their trust in
him who spoke and the world came into being'.13 Even if what
amounts to the only interpretation of Mic. 3.11 in classical rabbinic
literature fits the meaning suggested by Rabin for CD it is still not
certain that such meaning is required in CD, for it seems strange that
a group who did in fact rely on God should be judged. It seems to me
more likely that they claimed (or seemed) to rely on God and this
claim was to be examined at a fixture date by the 'holy council'. As I
shall explain later, there are very strong reasons for taking this
understanding of the quotation from Micah into consideration.
The Pollution of the Temple

The subject of 'made the miqdash unclean' is not clear14 and the
matter is possibly complicated by the fact that we do not know what
precedes 'House of Peleg' in the text. Our choices are Israel, the
House of Peleg or some members of the House of Peleg. Because of
the difficulty of a finite verb co-ordinated with an infinitive
construction, the House of Peleg (or some members of it) seems the
more likely possibility. But that leaves the problem of whether
members or would-be members of the Qumran sect could be Temple-
defilers and how they might have defiled the Temple (or miqdash)
after leaving Jerusalem. The solution has been to suggest that INDCT
means 'declared unclean'. This not only removes the idea that the
House of Peleg actually defiled the Temple, it would also put them in
the same theological camp as the sect.15
Two very late rabbinic sources provide us with an interpretation of

Gen. 11 which is intriguing when compared with CD 20.22-27 and
which might allow us to follow the more usual understanding of the
syntax:
The Generation of the Separation wished to separate between
Yesod and Malkhut, and wished to avail themselves of Malkhut
through the forces of uncleanness and by means of the 'filth' with
which the infamous serpent inseminated Malkhut through the
First Man by means of the secret of the Tree of Knowledge of Good
and Evil, since the Temple is prepared for purity, and if so impure
individuals would enter it and pollute the Temple, etc. Thus the
First Man wished to avail himself16of the Temple through the
name of uncleanness, i.e. evil, and so too did the Generation of the
Separation, and for that reason they were sent into exile.17
When they [the Generation of the Separation] wanted to separate

the Shechinah from the buildinc18 and when it was senaraTeH the
72 A Tribute to Geza Venues
forces of uncleanness flowed in it through the 'filth' of the serpent.

This is the meaning of 'let us burn them thoroughly (nfiltW
nS"itS^)' (Gen. 11.3). According to its deeper meaning this is
connected with 'our holy and our beautiful house ... is burned up
with fire' (Isa. 64.10) and similarly with 'because he hath defiled
the sanctuary of the Lord' (Num. 19.20).19
Immediately after its discussion of the Generation of the Flood
which it presumably combines with the Generation of the Separation,
Jubilees 23.21 mentions a future generation who will pollute the
Temple. In many ways the passage in which this prediction occurs is
a standard 'intertestamentaT description of the horrors of the future,
but there are a number of phrases which bring CD to mind and make
one wonder if it does not foretell the very time in which the writer of
CD sees himself as living.20
The 'Punishment'
In the Manual of Discipline there is a passage which makes us
question the necessity for dividing B from A:
Every man who enters the Council of Holiness who walk in the
way of perfection as commanded by God, and who deliberately or
through negligence transgresses one word of the law of Moses, on
any point whatever, shall be expelled from the Council of the
Community and shall return no more .. .21
The sequence of events appears to be the same: entry to, or
examination by, the Holy Council, subsequent transgression and
expulsion. If A and B were originally separate entities, then the
similarity between the Damascus Document and 1QS can surely be
accounted for only by assuming that 1QS is modelled on CD after A
and B have been put together. But there are distinct differences
between CD and 1QS. Most noticeable are the more colourful
diction and the apparent eschatological intent of CD to which its
choice of vocabulary would seem most suited.
In light of the similarity between the two documents we might
assume that being 'cut off from the camp' is a circumlocution for
being 'expelled from the sect', the more so since so many of the
general treatments of Qumran speak of a community dwelling in
camps.22 How then could the same punishment be applied to 'those
who lead Judah astray^ since they are apparently not members of the
sect? Why should expulsion be delayed, albeit for a short time?
Perhaps the answer is to take 'camp' in its Biblical sense of all Israel,
of which the sectarians are one element.
All other occurrences of nis in CD with this meaning are
instances of divine punishment; the sons of Noah, the Generation of
the Separation (if Rabin's suggestion of dropped copy is correct), the
Generation of the Wilderness Wandering and 'their kings' were all
extirpated or cut off in their prime by God (albeit at times through
human agency).23 Particularly noteworthy is the Generation of the
Wilderness Wandering for the phrase 'will be cut off from the midst
of the camp'may be modified from Dt. 2.14 "inn to DTI *w runon anpa
nanôn nyjN. The earlier part of this verse is quoted and similarly
modified in CD 20.14f.
Accordingly our phrase would be a prototype of the later rabbinic
institution of karet.24 This 'punishment' derives from biblical
phrases similar to the one in CD and has come to mean premature
death, usually 'at the hands of heaven'. It is not a punishment that
could be inflicted by the sectarians themselves; it is not exclusion
from the sect nor the death penalty in conventional terms. The
statement that 'those who have broken the boundary of the Law will
be cut off from the camp' is not a sentence in the legal sense but
comes much closer to being a declaration of the state that the guilty
party is in or even a curse.
If A and B are connected then there is an element of irony in the
choice of 'punishment'. For the historical Generation of the
Separation caused the lifespan of the human race to be shortened
while here the guilty elements within the House of Peleg are
'condemned' to premature death. Despite the plain meaning of Gen.
11 which informs us that they are scattered abroad, divine punishment
of violent death for the Generation of the Separation is also found in
the midrashim which explain that neniy1? (Gen. 11.3) indicates that
they will be 'burned out of this world'.25 The Rabbis seem to have
searched widely for hints of a more severe punishment for the
Generation of the Separation. Another example that fits in well with
our text is the idea that nnN nsttf (Gen. 11.1) can be interpreted as
nujniB IBP under the influence of twi "JDIBP (Gen. 3.15).26
The statement of the offence, whatever it was, is minn 'JDJ ISIB.
This is probably derived from Eccl. 10.8,-nj pB. Rabin notes that in
b. Shab. lOa, Eccl. 10.8 is 'referred to violation of Rabbinic laws' and
also invites comparison with CD l.^^nj yo1?.27 The continuation of
the biblical verse reads m iBP,*a snake will bite him'.28 This is a
paradigm example of karet in action and was taken as such by the

Rabbis (for example, Rashi, whose first comment is simply 'death at
the hands of heaven'). The phrase TIJ pS has not then simply
provided lexical inspiration for CD's 'raj ms. The continuation of
the verse is also present in a highly disguised form; A.3 and 4 are, as
it were, a paraphrase of pm iw TU ps.
Two other sentences whose diction29 falls somewhere between CD
20.25-57 and 1QS 8.21ff. should be compared:
CD 20.3f.
CD 20.6-8
We note that the curse can apparently be removed, as can the
condition of karet in Rabbinic law.
The vocabulary of these quotations is mundane and comparatively
colourless with the exception of ji^r nynp which at first glance gives
an eschatological tinge to the passage. The term is derivedfromfi'+MV2
in Ps. 82.6,30 the use of which verse in Rabbinic exegesis and in the
New Testament is vital to the understanding of the term here.31 The
idea is that Israel who have received and observe the Law can be
called 'eternal' or 'Godlike'. This allusion reminds the reader of the
sect's claim to have the truth. The status of being Holy Ones of the
Most High also means that they are not under threat of karet.
The verse before the one containing the 'sons of the Most High'
which is used in CD 20.8Ps. 82.5reads 'They have not known;
they will not understand; they will walk about in darkness'. In the
Psalm there is obviously a contrast between those living with the Law and
those living against. In CD the one verse (82.6) is applied to the sect.
In Tanhuma the other is applied to the Generation of the Separation
the Biblical prototype of the group under criticism in CD.32
Philo, too, contrasts the 'sons of Man/Adam' in Gen. 11.5 with
'sons of God'33 though none of the biblical texts he cites contains the
word fi^P. He is, however, aware of the connection of Dt. 32.8, which
does contain p^y, with the Generation of the Separation.34
The Judgment
Because it follows immediately on a paragraph describing a book in
which the deeds of men are recorded, it is tempting to think that the
statement about the House of Peleg being subject to the judgment of
the Holy Council indicates some event equivalent to Judgment Day
in the eschatological future. Some rabbinic texts take the 'scattering'

of Gen. 11.4, 8 as indicating that the Generation of the Separation
will have no part in the world to come.35 In this case we could
interpret those who have broken the boundary of the law as the
sinners and those who have held fast (CD 20.27) as the righteous.
This would be a very fitting note on which to end the Admonition.
The House of Peleg would thus be a designation of the sectarians
themselves. While this interpretation might be attractive, there is a
problem: it seems impossible to interpret House of Peleg in the
Nahum pesher as the sect.36
In other passages 'Holy Council' seems to be a label for the sect37
or a part of them37 and not an institution in the heavenly or future
realm. It seems likely that the House of Peleg are applying for
membership39seeking refuge, as CD 20.34 would appear to have
itif A.6 is taken as referring to the past, or are being in some sense
invited to apply for membership or return to the fold. They will be
examined by the sectarians as individuals and not as a group. This
suggestion can be supported by comparison with the Manual of
Discipline which reads:
He shall judge every man according to his spirit. He shall admit40
him with the cleanness of his hands and advance him in accordance
with his understanding (1QS 9.15f.).
In CD those judged unworthy will be 'cut off' while those who are
found worthy will be admitted ('they will rejoice', CD 20.33)
provided they say the confession quoted in lines 28ff. In this light one
cannot deny the possibility that 'camp' alludes to the sect.
The Theophany
The phrase ^N TQ3 ysira presents a number of problems. It can be
taken with B.l-2 as describing the past when the 'boundary of the
law' was broken or with B.4 giving the future occasion when the
offenders will be punished. On comparison with 20.3-8 (quoted
above) future reference would seem more likely and hence something
like karet would be more appropriate than expulsion.
I assume that the appearance of the glory is intended to be the
antithesis of'he hid his face from Israel and from his sanctuary' (CD
1.13), for 'removing the glory' is the post-biblical synonym of'hiding
the face'. B.3 would then refer to the past or future restoration of
Temple worship.
The appearance of the Glory might also indicate the destruction of

the House of Peleg, for Gen. 11.5, nNi1? mrv TTI, of course, implies a
theophany, as is made clear in a number of midrashic texts which
observe that this is the second of ten descents of the shechinah
mentioned in the Pentateuch.41 Only the Targum in Neofiti I
mentions 'glory' in the stock phrase 'glory of the shechinah''. It is
tempting to think that because of A.6 the House of Peleg has already
been destroyed, but since we do not know whether the House of
Peleg as a whole or merely a part of them is the subject of this clause
any deduction to that effect would be premature. Also since *7N "ir nen
means 'and they will return to God' in Isa. 19.20 we have to take into
consideration that it has that meaning here too.
The two eventsthe destruction of the House of Peleg and the
return of the Glory to the Templeneed not be distinct events.
Breaking the Boundary

Breaking boundaries is mentioned only in B.I but boundary moving
is mentioned three times in CD. At 1.16 the phrase îsj y*tf?is a
reworking of ^nj wn in Dt. 19.14. It appears to have been altered
under the influence of Eccl. 10.9, D'ttK IPDO. At this point it is
mentioned that this is also one of the crimes that bring on the 'curses
of the covenant' (CD 1.17) and is encouraged by the 'man of scoffing'
who has arisen to drip waters of falsehood to Israel. The effect is that
they look for gaps (nrcnu). At 5.20 'boundary movers' (Hos. 5.10)
have arisen to lead Israel astray from the commandments of Moses in
the period of the destruction of the Land. At 19.15(8.3) there is a
fuller quotation of Hos. 5.10the princes of Judah are like boundary
movers.
While Gen. 10.25 and 11.8,9 imply boundaries, it is the setting up
of those boundaries and not their destruction or removal that is
intended in the text.
Rabin points out that all the references in CD to boundary moving
or breaking are taken from biblical verses which were interpreted by
the Rabbis as meaning law breaking rather than literal boundary
moving.42 Yet this appears to be not simply sectarian jargon for
criminal behaviour but refers to the activities of a particular group
lead astray by the Man of Falsehood or the Man of Scoffing, as is
made clear in CD 1.16.43
The idea of dripping turns up again in 4.19 where we learn about
the Wall-builders who have been caught in Belial's nets.44 They are
the people who went after is, who, the text explains, is a Dripper.
The proof text offered for dripping is Mic. 2.6, the last words of
which verse are niD^s 3D"1 N^l. Kimchi connects this expression with
*7\23 rDD "iriN (Dt. 27.17). is, of course, is taken from Hos. 5.11, the
verse following the source of'boundary movers' at 5.20 and 19.15. In
the midrashim Hos. 5.11 is connected with Gen. 2.16those who go
after is are those who disobey the commandment of Gen. 2.16. In the
biblical text this is the instruction not to eat of the fruit of the tree
but in the midrashim a list of commandments is mentioned. The
precise details of the list vary from Midrash to Midrash.45 The failure
to observe that commandment results in the condition of being
mortal.
The 'Wall-builders' are mentioned again in 8.12 where it is stated
that 'they did not understand all these things'the last of which is
the vengeance of the Head of the Asps (Dt. 32.33) and we are again
brought back to Micah 2 with 'dripping'this time to v. 11. The
term 'Wall-builders' is derived from Ezek. 13.10 where we notice a
great deal of pertinent vocabulary including the only biblical
occurrence of the feminine plural msis, the word used in 1.16. They
also appear in 19.3 If. where we are told that God abhors them and
his wrath is kindled against them and all who 'go after them'.
B.I is therefore connected with this complex of phrases through
the rephrasing of "nj pB into 'raj1S1D and the notion of violent death
implied by the continuation of Eccl. 10.8. Provided that B is the
continuation of A, the House of Peleg must be regarded as at least of
a similar type to the Wall-builders.
In Gen. R. 38.7 R. Nehemiah connects the root p1? with the
Generation of the Separation using Prov. 3.34, p*r NIPI D"*1?1? DN.46
This is his explanation of nypa INSCPI in Gen. 11.3, i.e. R. Nehemiah
may be taking fU'pa not in the sense of 'valley' but as 'split' or
'gap'-47
His Purgings
There are a number of possibilities for the antecedent of 'his
purgings'Judah, Israel, House of Peleg, Man of Lies. Suffice it to
say that for the present purpose the purging seems to be the occasion
when those who have broken the boundary of the Law will be sorted
out from those who have adhered to ita process that in the view of
the writer of CD may or may not be already underway.
Of particular interest as a parallel is the Talmudic passage already
quoted in connection with the statement about reliance on God. The
discussion of Mic. 3.11 continues with:
They are evil except that they put their trust in Him who spoke
and the world came into being. Accordingly the Holy One Blessed
Be He brings three punishments (nvjjms) upon them corres-
ponding to their three transgressions. 'Therefore shall Zion for
your sake be plowed as a field and Jerusalem shall become heaps
and the mountain of the house as the high places (moa) of the
forest' (Mic. 3.12). The Holy One Blessed Be He only places His
Shechinah on Israel when bad judges and officials have ceased
from Israel, as it is said, 'And I will turn my hand upon thee, and
purely purge (^mw) away thy dross (TJD) and take away all thy
tin' (Isa. 1.25).
In addition to the trust in God, the three transgressions remind us of
the three nets of Belialfornication, wealth and polluting the
Temple (CD 4.15)in which the Wall-builders are caught. The
placing of the Shechinah would correspond to the appearance of the
Glory in B.3, the bad judges and officials to the Princes of Judah and
the purging to B.6.
A more explicit connection of this theme with the Generation of
the Separation is found in Midrash Tanhuma (to Gen. 20.1) which
applies to the story of the Tower of Babel Ps. 53.3-4(2-3), 'God looked
down from heaven on Man ... All of them are dross', and then
explains that when they become dross they make idols.
Small Words
The biblical source of D'&VD nnan is presumably Eccl. 5.1(2) Tnan rrv
D^PD, where it is stressed that God is in heaven and humanity on
earththe natural order of things that the Generation of the
Separation tried to upset.48 In its biblical context the phrase just
quoted is part of an injunction to be modest in prayer. If, in the
House of Peleg passage, the Temple is, or has been declared to be,
unfit for Temple service, then me believers would have to be content
with a more modest form of worship. We note also that Dtsyo onan is
parallel in form and approximately so in meaning with nnnN D*m in
Gen. ll.l.49
Peleg had a brother, Yoktan, for whose name the Bible (Gen.
10.25) provides no etymology. The Rabbis produced two. The more
common is rpoin IDSBJ n pepo nvw 'he made himself and his affairs
small'. For the present purpose it would not be inappropriate to say
that he was 'modest'.50 The second is NEU ^m jiiTD' wopriK *iora 'in
his days the length of men's lives was cut short'.51 While this
explanation appears only in later rabbinic texts it is in fact an early

interpretation; it is found in Jubilees, Hebrew fragments of which
have been found at Qumran. But perhaps more significantly the
Hebrew text of Jubilees for this very etymology is quoted in the
Damascus Document itself where it is used as a proof text for the age
limit of judicial service:
And let no one over sixty years any longer set himself up to judge
the congregation; for when man sinned his days were lessened and
when God waxed wroth with the inhabitants of the earth he
commanded that their understanding should depart before they
complete their days (CD 10.8-10).
The material is the quotation from Jubilees 23.11 in a different
recension from the one currently known.52 The phrasing of the first
two clauses is noteworthy: ID* iex?D onn *?x?Da 'athe words for 'sin'
and 'lessened' are identical to 'sin' and 'small' in the House of Peleg
passage. The passage in Jubilees from which the quotation is taken
makes the sin in question that of the people of the flood and probably
the generation of the Tower of Babel, though they are not mentioned
explicitly. At least one Rabbinic text also uses the root css?D in its
etymological interpretation53 while others transfer the idea of a
shortened lifespan to Peleg, taking the name as equivalent to ""sn
'half'.54
The statement about the House of Peleg begins with a 'cryptic'
epithet derived from the name of one brother and ends with a
comment apparently inspired by contemporary interpretation of the
name of the other.
The Unity of the Admonition

From the preceding discussion it will be clear that, given the idea
that the House of Peleg is in some way connected with the
Generation of the Separation, other parts of the Admonition are not
incompatible with that hypothesis. When applied to CD the rabbinic
texts would suggest at least that the House of Peleg and the Wall-
builders led by the Dripper of Lies are the same group. But in fact
there is very little in the Admonition that does not have a parallel in
rabbinic comments on the Generation of the Separation. The
following is a further illustration.
Tanhuma-, which quotes Ps. 53.4(3) in its discussion of the
Generation of the Separation (mentioned above), also quotes the
preceding verse: 'to see if there were any that did understand (^SIPD)
that did seek (Km) God.' CD makes a similar statement in a modified

quotation from Hos. 3.4 shortly before the House of Peleg passage:
'In that period the wrath of God will be kindled against Israel, as he
said, "There will be no king and no ruler and no judge and none to
reprove in righteousness"' (CD 20.16).
Ibn Gikatilla, building on Tanhuma and other traditions that are
demonstrably ancient, provides us with another enigmatic comment:
For in the days of the First Man the righteous one was gathered in
and the people of the Generation of the Separation and the
Generation of the Flood rebelled and polluted the rivers and
blocked up the springs and all the sefirotwithdrew ever upward;
there was none to seek and none to supplicate.55
In CD immediately before the statement about the wrath of God the
text reads 'from the day when the unique teacher was gathered in
...' We expect CD to use the term 'Teacher of Righteousness'. The
fact that it does not can be explained in light of an association
between the Generation of the Separation and the House of Peleg.
Abraham was unique in his generation,56 he did not follow the
counsel (nsrr, sic) of the Generation of the Separation. He was
righteous in his generation.57 The same ideas are stated quite
straightforwardly in the Wisdom of Solomon58 and, in a much more
elaborate fashion in the Biblical Antiquities of Pseudo-Philo.59
Whether we take TPP as the adjective 'unique' or as a dialect form
of the noun "in11 'community'60 it seems likely that the more familiar
term has been modified deliberately to bring to mind what was for
the writer of CD the historical prototype of his own period.
Nahum Pesher
In interpreting Nah. 3.9, 'Ethiopia and Egypt were her strength and
it was infinite. Put and Lubim were thy helpers', \hzpesher explains
that they are 'the evil ones [ofJudah], the House of Peleg, who joined
with Manasseh'.61 The connection between the bibilical verse and its
interpretation is to say the least obscure. However, the nations listed
in the biblcal text are virtually identical to the list in Gen. 10.6
Ethiopia, Egypt, Put and Canaan. Genesis Kabbah quotes R.
Berechiah (A5) as explaining that 'each one said to his fellow' in Gen.
11.3 means 'Egypt said to Ethiopia'.62 Presumably the writer of the
pesher could have produced his interpretation only if he was already
aware of the association attributed to R. Berechiah.
If in this instance we take Manasseh not simply as the brother of
Ephraim, for it is obvious that in other passages that is one of the

intended associations of the name, but rather as the king Manasseh
whose sins brought on the destruction of the first Temple we can
relate it to the idea of the House of Peleg as Temple polluters in CD.
Interestingly the three transgressions mentioned in the rabbinic
interpretation of Mic. 3.11 are named as idolatry, immorality and
bloodshed, in a repetition of that interpretation in b. Yoma 9b. They
are also specified as being the sins of Manasseh on account of which
the First Temple was destroyed.
Ephraim
Ephraim is mentioned twice in the Damascus Document (7.1 Iff. [A
text] and 14.1), in both cases in a quotation of Isa. 7.17, 'from the day
that Ephraim departed [sic] from Judah'. The Targum to this verse
translates, somewhat unusually, with ir^sriN.
In the midrash Peleg's brother, Yoktan, is compared with the moon
which is less conspicuous than the sun, and, strangely, with Ephraim
who was smaller (i.e. younger) than his brother Manasseh. The
midrash claims that they are all related because each 'made himself
small' (Gen. R. 6.4; cf. also 37.7 and 97 on Gen. 48.13). This leads us
to another curiosity in connection with the Nahum pesher. In the
midrash Yoktan, the younger brother, is connected with Ephraim,
the younger brother, while in the pesher Peleg, the older brother, is
connected with Manasseh, the older brother.
The discussion on DînN D"n:n in the midrash also mentions
Ephraim; this time in a proof text:
Rabbi said, 'Peace is great. Even though Israel were worshipping
idols there was peace among them. The Holy One Blessed Be He
said, as it were, "I do not rule over them", as it is said, "Ephraim is
joined to idols: let him alone" (Hos. 4.17). But if their heart is
divided, it is written, "Their heart is divided; now shall they be
found faulty" (Hos. 10.2).'63
Rabbi's words form part of a discussion of the difference between the
Generation of the Flood and the Generation of the Separation. The
problem at issue is why the Generation of the Flood was completely
obliterated while the Generation of the Separation was not:
The Generation of the Flood, because they had taken part in
violent acts (Some remove the landmarks; they violently take away
flocks, and feed thereof [Job 24.2]), no remnant was left from them.
But the [Generation of the Separation], because they loved one
another (And the world was of one language [Gen. 11.1]), a

remnant was left from them.
Both the 'removal of landmarks/boundaries' and the use of the term
'remnant' are characteristic of CD.
Mic. 3.10, the verse immediately before the statement about
reliance on God, reads 'They built up Zion with blood (DNQ"n) and
Jerusalem with iniquity'. This would surely remind us of the city of
blood (D^DIH TJ?) of Nah. 3.1 which is understood in thepesher as the
city of Ephraim. In the Habakkuk pesher one who builds a city with
blood (Hab. 2.12) is interpreted as the 'dripper of lies' (10.9f.). It
should also be observed that the harsh conditions, particularly
disregard for human life, under which the city of the Generation of
the Separation was built is a commonplace in Jewish interpretation
from Philo onwards.64
This city is further described as a 'city of vanity' (w Ti?). There
may be a play here with re at 4.19.65 There is not only a similarity in
pronunciation but also the ancient versions appear to have understood
re in Hos. 5.11 as if it were Nittf.66 In one of its comments to Gen. 20.1
Tanhuma explains that Ps. 26.4, 'I have not dwelt with false (Nity)
people', refers to the righteous Abraham not joining in the blasphemous
enterprise of the people of the Generation of the Separation.
Stegemann67 and Murphy-O'Connor,68 using some of the arguments
given above, are of the opinion that the two titles Ephraim and
House of Peleg apply to the same group who have broken away from
the main sect. For Murphy-O'Connor their rejoining the sect is
referred to in CD 20.22-27, implied in other parts of the Damascus
Document and to be inferred from the fact that buildings of the
Qumran site were expanded greatly in the Ib phase.69 There is,
however, no other evidence apart from CD 20.22-27 interpreted with
A.6 in the past tense that Ephraim/House of Peleg ever recanted.70
Identification
There seems little doubt that the label 'House of Peleg' is used to
describe a real group. It would also be a group who left Jerusalem,
and who can in some way be associated with the defilement of the
Temple. This much we can discover from the Damascus Document
itself without recourse to any rabbinic parallels. Where the admittedly
later rabbinic texts come into play is in establishing the possibility that
the label House of Peleg is related in some fashion to the Generation
of the Separation and not merely to the name Peleg in Gen. 10.25.
Since the principal fact known about that Generation is that they
built a tower, we should be looking for some second Temple group
also associated with a tower. There is only one real candidate: the
followers of Onias who built a temple in the form of a tower at
Leontopolis in Egypt.
Our principal source of information for this temple is Josephus,
who unfortunately provides two contradictory accounts. In War he
informs us that Onias III was the builder and in Antiquities Onias IV.
The difference could be accounted for by Goldstein's theory that in
Antiquities Josephus depended on a propaganda document written by
Onias IV himself,71 though this would leave us with the problem of
having to decide whether Onias was a reliable eye-witness or a biased
partisan. It would be easy to see the importance of the temple as
highly overstated (by the partisan Onias, if Goldstein's theory is
correct, and then by Josephus with a bias in the opposite direction)
were it not for the fact that rabbinic documents imply that it had a
great significance in its day.
Onias and his followers can certainly be said to have gone out from
Jerusalem when Israel sinned. There was also enough defilement of
the Temple, whether through abominations or the service of High
Priests improperly elected, for Israel to be accused of defiling the
Temple. The construction of the rival Temple at Leontopolis can also
be seen as an act of defilement if take the House of Peleg as the
subject of A.5. Onias was, as it were, attempting to marry Israel to
two Temples at the same time.
Onias also had territory in Egypt to provide revenue and, like the
Generation of the Separation, built not merely a temple to rival the
Jerusalem Temple but also a city resembling Jerusalem (War 1.23). I
would suggest that the city of Ephraim in the Nahumpes/rer and the
city of vanity built by the Dripper of Lies in the Habakkuk pesher are
Leontopolis. The disparaging epithets 'Wall-builders' and 'Daubers'
would make perfect sense in this context. Furthermore since
Leontopolis is outside Israel there may be no real need to emend the
text from p>n to pn.72
Leontopolis was apparently a military colony.73 Onias led an army in

support of Cleopatra the widow of his patron Ptolemy Philometer
against the usurper Ptolemy IX Physcon.74 In a separate connection
Josephus reports that two sons of Onias were appointed generals in
charge of Cleopatra's army.75 CD (20.14) quotes the phrase 'men of
war' from Dt. 2.14 in the expression t^N w nff IBM ncn^Dn WM to
3DH. Thus the phrase 'men of war'76 is associated with 'the Man of
the Lie' who would appear to be the leader of the House of Peleg. It
would not be inappropriate to remark that the Man of the Lie has
done exactly what the Temple Scroll specifically prohibited, 'he shall
not bring the people back to Egypt for war',77 but what the Dead Sea
Isaiah Scroll may have expressly encouraged or predicted: '... and
he will send them a saviour who will go down and rescue them'.78
Onias's activities in Egypt, though not necessarily his temple-
building, appear to have started by 164 BCE, for there is a letter dated
September 21st of that year sent to one Onias79 who was apparently
of high standing. This would, of course, imply Onias IV not III but
would contradict Josephus' report that Onias fled to Egypt only after
the appointment of Alcimus as High Priest in 162.80 The duration of
the temple's existence given by Josephus cannot be 343 years,81
which is impossible if the temple was founded by either Onias III or
Onias IV.82 The emended figure 24383 or Jerome's 25084 would be
near enough approximations, however, giving us 170 and 177 BCE
respectively. This takes us back to the date when the Damascus
Document informs us that the Teacher of Righteousness was 'raised
up'176 BCE.85 It was also apparently at this time that the Dripper
was active, though it is difficult to tell from CD whether he appeared
before or after the Teacher.86 For the present purpose we will note
only that such dates as are available would not be inappropriate for
an identification of the Dripper as Onias.87
At least as early as 1919 a connection was suggested between CD
20.25, 'all who have broken the boundary of the Law', and Dan.
11.14, 'the sons of the breaches of your people',88 which appears in a
context discussing the division of the people into pro-Seleucid and
pro-Ptolemaic factions. Jerome, who appears to have relied on
Josephus's account, relates this verse specifically to the time of
Antiochus IV Epiphanes. He explains that the phrase prn Tarn1? (ut
impleant visionem) refers to Onias's attempt to fulfill the prophecy
(vaticiniumf* of Isa. 19.19 and that "pr ^ns are those who, in their
desire to make sacrifices in a place other than the legal one, forsook
divine law.90
Sacrifices were apparently made at Onias's temple.91 It therefore
presumably had the status of a batnah, 'a high place'an alternative
sacrificial site which could be used when the Jerusalem Temple was
unfit for cultic worship. But, naturally, the 'temple' at Elephantine
notwithstanding, when the Temple in Jerusalem was available such a
bamah would have been regarded as illegitimate, i.e. it would have

reverted to being a bamah in the more familiar biblical sense of a site
with the status of an idolatrous shrine. If the temple at Leontopolis
was indeed built after the Jerusalem Temple had been desecrated, as
Josephus reports,92 any conventional justification for this temple in
Egypt would have been that it was a temporary or convenience
measure.
There is therefore little reason to believe that R. Meir's statement
that Onias's Temple was intended for idol worship93 is literally
correct. It is rather an expression, albeit a harsh one, of the view that
Onias's temple was illegal.94 It is used in the same metaphorical
fashion as the quotation of Ezek. 14.3, 'they have set idols upon their
heart', is used in CD 20.9.
The precise nature of that illegality is spelled out in the Mishnah95
which by quoting 2 Kings 23.9, 'Nevertheless the priests of the high
places came not up to the altar... in Jerusalem', makes it quite clear
that at least for the Mishnah Onias's structure was regarded as a
bamah. The priests who served at Onias's temple were permitted to
eat sacrifices but not offer them. They were classed as 'blemished'
(pDio "to). CD 8.4 (ms. A) makes a similar statement about the
Princes of Judah who, according to ms. B have 'become like those
who move the boundary': they will 'hope for healing but the blemish
will cleave'.96 It should also be borne in mind that the first
occurrence of'boundary moving' in the Damascus Document (1.16)
causes 'the curses of the covenant to cleave'. If the 'boundary movers'
are the Oniad party in Egypt, then CD and the Mishnah are speaking
about them in the same terms. It is also noteworthy that the same
Mishnah regards a vowed sacrifice made in Onias's temple as an
acceptable offering but declares that he who makes the offering is
subject to karet for having made that sacrifice outside the Jerusalem
Temple.97
Onias's building activities were apparently a symbolic98 exercise in
applied exegesis99 and his temple may have been intended for the
imminent eschatological future. According to Josephus100 and
possibly also the Talmud,101 he justified his temple construction with
the prediction of Isa. 19.19, 'In that day shall there be an altar to the
Lord in the midst of the Land of Egypt and a pillar at the border
thereof. The preceding verse would also appear to have something
to do with his venture, at least in some of the ancient versions
(Symmachus, Vulgate, Targum) and the Dead Sea Isaiah scroll,
which specify that one of the five cities speaking Canaanite and
swearing by (?) the Lord will be 'the city of the sun'. The Septuagjnt
reads noXi? <iae8eK which is the equivalent of pnxn vr, an evocative
name since Onias was a priest of the Zadokite line. This phrase is
found in Isa. 1.26 (nJDNJ mp pnxn iv), where it refers to the
Jerusalem of the future. In this way Heliopolis could be equated with
Jerusalem. Isa. 1.26 is itself linked, through 'I will restore thy judges
as at the first', with Isa. 19.20 as interpreted in the Septuagint and
Targum where Hebrew 211 is translated as 'judge' or 'judging'.102
These midrashic links come to the surface only in the combination of
Hos. 3.4 and 2 Chron. 15.3 quoted in CD 20.16f. (i pro fo p
p*rea rraio jw BSity).103 However, the midrashic idea that the period
of the Generation of the Separation might be characterized as one of
bad judges could account for the use of the use of the passage from
Jubilees quoted above as a justification for the age-limit imposed on
judges.
CD 20.23f. quotes another verse from Isa. 19, ? nr nen (v. 22),
provided we ignore the zyaw-like stroke above IP, and R. Jose b.
Elisha's discussion of Mic. 3.11 (quoted in CD 20.23) involves the
use of Isa. 1.25 bringing in the idea of dross and hence of purging as
in CD 20.27. The choice of the euphemism 'Holy City' instead of the
proper name Jerusalem (which is never used in CD) can then be
explained as being a reminder that there is only one Holy City,
which is neither that built by the Generation of the Separation nor
Heliopolis/Leontopolis. A similarly pointed reminder is found in CD
3.18ff., following a catalogue of Israel's sinful history, 'But God ...
"built them a sure house (JONJ rpa)" in Israel... They that hold fast
to it are destined for eternal life'. The point is even more obvious in
English if we translate as 'immovable house'.104 The reference to the
activities of 'Yohane and his brother' in CD 5.18f. seems to fill a
similar purpose: the reader is reminded that in the past there was
another example of those in the pay of the Egyptian authorities, who
under the leadership of one whose name bears a certain resemblance
to Onias (Honyo), opposed the true religion. They were ignominiously
defeated.105
The height of Onias's tower is the same as that given in the Bible
for the Second Temple. For Hayward this does more than simply
confirm the Temple status of the tower in Leontopolis; it suggests to
him that 'Onias copied the height of the Temple built by his Zadokite
ancestor Jeshua ben Jozadak'.106 There is, however, clearly a
difference in the two ventures; Jeshua ben Jozadak led his followers
to Jerusalem while Onias led his followers from Jerusalem. It will, of

course, be clear that Onias had to adapt himself to his own
circumstances but if Onias's aim was to build a new Jerusalem then
he too can be said to have led his followers to Jerusalem, though for
his detractors he will still have gone from Jerusalem to Shinar/
Babylon.
Or. Sib. 5.501-3 mentions a temple in Egypt which, it has
frequently been suggested, is the one at Leontopolis, not least
because there is a strong echo of Isa. 19.19 in line 501:
Then there will be a great temple in Egypt, and a people fashioned
by God will bring sacrifices to it. To them the imperishable God
will grant to reside there.107
It is also noteworthy that the invitation to build this temple is given
by 'a man clad in linen, one of the priests' (1. 492). This may be an
allusion to one of the passages in Daniel108 or Ezekiel109 that mention
a similar priestly figure. Further, the form of his words, 'Come let us
erect a sanctuary of the true God', brings Gen. 11 to mind. He goes
on to say, 'Come, let us change the terrible custom we have received
from our ancestors'. This may be an echo of Dt. 19.14 in a form close
to that used in CD 1.16, 'moving the boundary which the forefathers
had set up in their inheritance'. The standard rabbinic understanding
of 'move' at this verse is 'alter'.110 The most obvious example to
quote which suggests that we have far more than an echo here, one is
R. Simeon ben Yohai's comment on Prov. 22.28, 'Any custom that
your ancestors established, do not change it'.111
Boundariesinternational boundaries rather than those around
private propertywere associated quite naturally with the Generation
of the Separation even in Biblical times, as is clear from Dt. 32.8
'When the Most High divided to the nations their inheritance, when he
separated the sons of Adam, he set the bounds of the people according to
the number of the children of Israel', IT DTK ^ rmsra D^ p* "Truro
nBP â 1BDD1? D^DS? rta. Philo, without the intermediate step of
Prov. 22.28, links this verse with Dt. 19.14, 'Thou shalt not remove
thy neighbour's landmark which they of old time have set in thine
inheritance'.112 These are then very likely the boundaries that have
been moved by the followers of the Dripper. In view of the fact that
the Qumran caves contained a fragment of Dt. 32 that reads D^N "OS
instead of 'NOB^ *J3 in v. 8, it is likely that what is intended here is the
division of the world into 70 nations corresponding to the 70 angels
rather than the division of the Land amongst the twelve tribes of
Israel. This would imply that the boundary broken is not some detail
of the Law but an actual boundary between nations, i.e. Onias's
Tower is not within the boundaries of Israel.113
At first flush Josephus' report of the construction of a tower does
not seem particularly Temple-likeat least not Jewish Temple-like.
We expect courtyards, altar, holy of holies, etc., but not really a
tower. In attempting to show that the idea of a tower has an
association with Temple, Hayward points to a number of occurrences
in other texts. The nearest contemporary is 1 Enoch 89. Another of
the texts which Hayward cites is the Targum of Isa. 5.2 which
interprets MT'S 'tower' as 'sanctuary' and Hayward suggests, quite
properly, that 'it is not impossible that Onias was familiar with an
interpretation of Isaiah's words not unlike that preserved in the
Targum'.114 But we can add that there is another important instance
in Or. Sib. 5.424, shortly before the apparent reference to Leontopolis:
For a blessed man came from the expanses of Heaven ... And the
city which God desired, this he made more brilliant than stars and
sun and moon and he provided ornament and made a holy temple
exceedingly beautiful in its fair shrine and he fashioned a great and
immense tower over many stadia touching even clouds and visible
to all, so that all faithful and all righteous people could see the glory
of eternal God, a form desired.... It is the last time of holy people
when God ... founder of the greatest temple, accomplishes these
things (Sib. Or. 5.414-433).
In the letter purportedly sent by Onias to Ptolemy, the writer asks
permission to establish a central place of worship so that the Jews in
Egypt might live 'in mutual harmony'. While this phrase might
simply be an indication of Onias's political ambitions, it is also
possible to interpret it as being another aspect of the symbolic nature
of his plans: he wished to turn the clock back to the period before the
building of the Tower of Babel when the world was 'of one language
and of one purpose' (Gen. 11.1). The idea that there was peace and
harmony at that time is brought out in a number of Midrashim,
including Genesis Rabba quoted above.115 It is also used in a
prediction of the future in the Testament ofjudah (25.3), 'And you
shall be one people of the Lord, with one language'. On this verse
Charlesworth remarks succinctly that 'the adoption of one language
restores the unity of mankind shattered since the divine judgment at
the Tower of Babel confused the language of man'.116
Within the 'land of Onias', some forty miles from Leontopolis, or
the place now generally regarded as Leontopolis,117 in the direction
of Memphis was another site, also described in the first century CE as

a 'camp'118 which some have thought is the site of ancient
Leontopolis. Perhaps remarkably, its ancient name was Babylon.119
NOTES
* I am indebted to Moshe Bernstein, Yaakov Elman, Henry Resnick and

Eliot Wolfson for all sorts of assistance.
1. L. Ginzberg, An Unknown Jewish Sect, 1976, p. 284. Ginzberg quotes
the applied etymology of Jubilees 10.18 to the effect that Peleg separated
himself from the rest of humanity.
2. A.S. van der Woude, Die messianischen Vorstellungen der Gemeinde von
Qumran, Assen, 1957, p. 36.
3. J. Murphy-O'Connor, 'The Essenes and their History', RB 81 (1974)
p. 239.
4. Murphy-O'Connor, op. cit. and the literature cited there, and P.R.
Davies (The Damascus Covenant. An Interpretation of the 'Damascus
Document', Sheffield, 1983).
5. A.-M. Denis, Les themes de connaissance dans le Document de Damas,
Louvain, 1967, p. 175 (discussed by Murphy-O'Connor, 'A Literary Analysis
of Damascus Document xix, 33-xx, 34', RB 79 [1972], p. 557).
6. C. Rabin, The Zadokite Documents, Oxford, 1958, p. 41. The reading
of J"?BnPQ, endorsed by Meyer, 'Die Gemeinde des neuen Bundes im Lande
Damaskus: eine judische Schrift aus der Seleukidenzeit', Abhandlungen der
preussischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, phil.-hist. Klasse 9, 1919, p. 43,
n. 2 now seems most unlikely in view of the fact that J*7B rV3 is mentioned in
the Nahum Pesher.
7. Schechter, Documents of Jewish Sectaries, I, Cambridge, 1910, p. xlv
(reprinted New York, 1970, p. 77). There is an additional alternativerP31
J^B, cf. van der Woude, p. 35.
8. G. Vermes, Les manuscrits du desert de Juda, Tournai, 1954, p. 173.
9. Shaarei Orah (quoted in Yalqut Reubeni). Other comments such as
'they traveled from the land of Israel and went down to Babylon' (Zohar
Gen. 75b) and 'they despised the pleasant land' (PRE 24), not to mention
'rejected the First One in the world' (Gen. R. 39.7 and parallels), are in the
same vein. The more logical point of departure for the journey to Shinar
the site where Noah and his sons reached dry landleads to the same
equation because in the midrashim Noah made his thanksgiving sacrifice on
the site of the future Temple (e.g. PRE 31).
10. On the Confusion of Tongues, 60f.
11. J. Gellis, ed., Tosafot ha-Shalem, 1,1982, p. 249. This connection would
perhaps explain Rashi's "iin1? (see Num. 10.33) where other discussions of
Gen. 11.2 have NSO1?.
12. Op. cit.> p. 41. See also A. Rubinstein, 'Notes on Some Syntactical
Irregularities in Text B of the Zadokite Documents', VT 7 (1957), p. 359.
13. B. Shabbat 139a.
14. Ginzberg, p. 104; Rubinstein, loc. cit.
15. There is another mitigating option that might help explain the fact
that there is no outright condemnation of the House of Peleg: they did in fact
commit some act in the Temple but that act was in reponse to some other
more serious act committed by others. In this connection we have an
alternative source for A.5Ezek. 9.7 where the 'man dressed in linen' and
his followers are instructed to defile the temple and fill its courts with
corpses. The instructions in Ezek. 9 are preceded by an appearance of the
Glory. Ezek 9.4 is quoted in 8.3 but there is no obvious means of relating it to
A.5.
16. There is a play here on tTDKTi, 'sexual intercourse'. I am grateful to Dr
Eliot Wolfson for helping me with this and other texts of a similar kind.
17.
(Ibn Gikatilla, Shaarei Sedeq

quoted in Yalqut Reubeni}. I hesitate to polish up or annotate this overly
straightforward translation. I have not been able to find the text in Skaarei
Sedeq or Shaarei Orah. Note also Shaarei Sedeq 48a2 Dmj nttW? HIDtS^
abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz where the Garden,
like the Temple, symbolises the shechinah. The identity of the two places is
well established in both Bible and midrash.
18. The building here is both the Temple and the structure of the
sephirot.
19.
(Recanati).
20. Rabin refers to this prediction four times in his notes to CD.
21.
'Returning again' might also be connected with A.6

but I am not taking this into account.
22. Note with reference to this passage O. J. R. Schwartz, Der erste Teil der
Damaskusschrift und das alte Testament, 1965, p. 159, who derives from the
word Mine confirmation that at least some of the sect lived in camps and yet
seems to regard CUPID as an integral part of the extirpation (Ausrottung) of
both some members of the sect and 'those who lead Judah astray', who for
her are outsiders.
23. I am aware that if CD is indeed a composite document it is far from
certain that all authors who contributed to it will have used words in the
same way.
24. See Ta-Shema, 'Karet', Encyclopedia Judaica, X, cols. 788f.

25. Gen. R. 38.8. The notes in J. Theodor8-Ch. Albeck Midrash, Bereshit
Rabba. Critical Edition with Notes and Commentary, Jerusalem, 1965, ad
/oc., suggest that 'swallowing' rather than burning is intended. To which we
may add that according to PRE18 Abraham said DJIKft J*?B fiW y*il
'Swallow up, O Lord, divide their language' (Ps. 55.9), on seeing the building
activities of the Generation of the Separation. (The same verse is quoted in
Tanhuma Mi 18 and M. Tech. 1.13 on Ps. 1.1 as if the verbs were in the past
tense.) Note also the snake in Ibn Gikatilla and Recanati and particularly
how it is connected with nBlty1? nB")tyj in the latter, and the additional ironic
element in e.g. Bahya, when epitomizing a great deal of earlier exegesis, that
the tower was built 'to save from death' (nJTDH JO ^Jn1? '"D).
26. Tan. m 18 with the commentary spV JV, and Tan. B m 24.
27. Op. cit., p. 4. See also b.A Z 27b where Eccl. 10:8 is used in connection
with alien worship and connected with Lev. 18:5. Note also Masseketh
Semachot deRabbi Chiyya4.4 (ed. M. Higger, pp. 227ff.) where the boundary
in question would seem to be that between clean and unclean. (Note the text
quoted in Gen. R. on 11.3 on ?U'p3.) It is also noteworthy that 4.5 of the same
text discusses the book or books in which the names and deeds of the
righteous and the wicked are recorded. The House of Peleg passage is
preceded in CD by mention of a similar book with a similar function. At least
sofar as the rabbinic text is concerned the connection is made through
'distinguishing good and evil' and 'serpent'. Furthermore the snake
represents nuiniB in Semachot 4.4 and brings to mind that CD 8.10-12, in
the same vein as rabbinic interpretation but with a characteristically specific
twist, understands DJ" D^nB KW! as 'the chief king of the Greeks who
comes to take vengeance on them'. M. Lehman ('Midrashic Parallels to
Selected Qumran Texts', RQ 3 [1961], p. 549) mentions another example
where rabbinic exegesis has Adam in the Garden while the pesher has
gentiles.
28. If Rabin's restoration of "JKH in A.7 is correct there might be a pun. If
so the word play is the same as that in its putative source Num. 17.20 ("pttO
which plays off Num. 20.6, 8 dBN).
29. The difference in usage of tfBiro is quite obvious; in 11. 3 and 6 the
following genitive is 'deeds' and the context is apparently legal, in L 25 the genitive
is 'Glory' and the context is divine and possibly eschatological. The difference in
usage should not be taken as evidence for different authorship for the distinction
is probably merely a modern one, and further the virtually synonymous root
n^J is used in both applications within the same paragraph in 4QpNah 3-4 iii
3-5 in reference to what seems to be the same group under a different name:
'At the end of time their wicked deeds will be

apparent to all Israel... and when the glory of Judah is revealed the simple
ones of Ephraim will flee from the midst of their assembly'.
30. Rabin. Others, e.g. A. Lacocque, Daniel in his Time, Columbia, SC,
1988, p. 32, connect with Dan. 7.18 etc.
31. Cf., most recently, J.H. Neyrey, 'I Said "You Are Gods": Psalm 82.6
and John 10', JBL 108 (1989), pp. 647-63.
32. It is noteworthy in this connection that one of the commonest
associations of 'darkness' is Egypt as, for example, Isa. 9.1, where 'The
people walking in darkness' becomes in the Targum 'The people, the children
of Israel who were walking in Egypt as if in darkness'.
33. On the Confusion of Tongues, 142-46. All referencecs to the text and
translation of Philo and Josephus are to the Loeb Classical Library (London
and New York, various dates).
34. On the Posterity of Cain, 89 (see below).
35. B. Sank. 107a and parallels. Biblical mr is at times understood as
meaning 'deprive of the world to come', e.g. Num. 15.31 in b. Sank. 90b/91a,
SifreNumbers 112 andPsJ ad loc.
36. This has, however, been attempted by Baumgarten, Studies in Qumran
Law, Leiden, 1977, p. 72.
37. P. Wernberg-M011er, The Manual of Discipline, Leiden, 1957, p. 57,
n.62.
38. Rabin, p. 42.
39. Suggested by P. R. Davies, op. cit., p. 193. For Murphy-O'Connor (RB
81, p. 239; cf. RB 79, p. 557) the House of Peleg were newcomers to the sect
for whom the extensive construction work of period Ib was undertaken.
There is, however, no firm evidence that they actually succeeded in joining
the sect.
40. See Wernberg-M011er, op. cit., p. 137 n. 37, for the fact that mp1?
means 'admit'.
41. PRE 14, 24; ARN 34.
42. In the case of Dt. 19.14 the interpretation is in fact based on Prov.
22.28 which contains very similar phrasing. The two verses are frequently
equated in Rabbinic literature and apparently also in the Peshitta to Dt.
19.14. It is clear from, amongst other features, the fact that "pjn has not been
taken over in the quotation, that there is some leaning in the direction of
Prov. 22.28 in CD. See also Ginzberg, p. 7 n. 4, who points out that there is a
similarly interpreted use of Dt. 19.14 and Prov. 22.28 in 1 Enoch 99.2,14 and
2 Enoch 52.9. A similar link between Dt. 19.14/Prbv. 22.28 and Eccl. 10.8-9
is perhaps made by the Targum to Eccl. 10.8 when it uses the phrase
MD'an HIM 'fence of the world'. Cf. also the phrase ? mj TiJTiBtf ^BD
DÎP put into the mouth of the serpent in Ecc. R. 10.14 and parallels.
43. For the argument against taking all boundary moving as an allusion to
the same group, see Stegemann, Die Entstehung der Qumrangemeinde,
pp. 166ff. (unavailable to me). Cf. also Davies, p. 120.
44. Note the phrasing of Philo, On the Confusion of Tongues, 92:'... Israel
is imprisoned in the gross material nets of Egypt and submits to do the
bidding of an iron tyranny, to work at brick and every earthy substance with
labour painful and unremitting'. Philo here (and apparently also in On the
Posterity of Cain, 52ff.) compares and contrasts the building of the Tower of
Babel with the servitude of the Israelites in Egypt. Cf. also.y. Suk. 54c for a
similar contrast.
45. See the various combinations given in the notes to Gen. R. (ed.
Theodor Albeck), ad loc.
46. See also the texts quoted in Gen. R. (ed. Theodor-Albeck), ad loc. Note
also the idea of mocking combined with the mocker being mocked where the
verb is pnttf and the prooftext is Ps. 2.4 in Tan. m 28. Note also M. Teh. 1.13
to Ps. 1.1 and b. A.Z. 18a where the phrase D^1? 3tyiD appears later in the
same verse (Ps. 1.1).
47. It is presumably such a word play that allows Midrash Aseret HaDibrot
(quoted in Torah Shelemah, II, p. 311) to put in the mouth of the Generation
of the Separation 'let us take' hatchets and split (yp2Jl) heaven'. The
problem at hand, of course, is why build in a plain (ns?p3) when you can have
a head start, as it were, by building on a mountain (cf. Rashi to b. Sanh.
109a). A virtually identical statement, which must surely depend on the
Hebrew text of Gen. 11, is found in 3 Baruch 3.7.
48. The Generation of the Separation is mentioned in Eccl. R. to the
following verse where it is one of a list of blasphemers and other enemies of
God.
49. It is noteworthy that Tan. Nlpl 7 takes the antithesis of D1DPD TO"! IT!11
to be 'blasphemy' while in m 2 D^riN Dnm means words of 'blasphemy'.
50. The theme of modesty turns up in connection with the Generation of
the Separation, e.g. b. Hul. 89a. OSUStSf DnDPDD DDK; PR 12 (on Job 13.12)
51. Tg and Ps. Rashi to 1 Chron. 1.20.

52. See Rabin, p. 50.
53. Sefer Ha-Yashar (to Gen 10.25). The dedicatee of this volume devoted
a chapter to enumerating the early features of the Abraham story contained
in Sefer Ha-Yashar (Scripture and Tradition in Judaism [Studia Postbiblica,
4], Leiden, 1961, pp. 67-95). These few words can perhaps be added to that
list. There is perhaps an echo of this interpretation in Midrash Aggadah (ad
loc.) which explains that their ears were not shortened by exactly half but to
'two hundred and a bit (BUD)'.
54. Sefer Ha-Yashar (idem), Recanati, Ibn Gikatilla (quoted in Yalkut
Reubeni) and R. Shmuel b. Nissim Masnut, Bereshit Zuta (ed. Mordechai
Ha-Cohen) to Gen. 10.25 (and the references given there by the editor). Cf.
also Ibn Ezra.
55.
(Shaarei Sedeq 42al). The mention of the First Man

comes about because of the use of the word DIN in Gen 11.5, which allows a
midrash to deduce either that Adam was still alive when the Tower was built
or that this rebellion is a continuation of that of Adam and Eve.
56. The terms 'righteous' and 'righteousness' in the Dead Sea Documents
are problematic, in so far as it is not clear when they are used in a technical
sense with echoes of Zadokite (priesthood) and Sadducee and when they are
used with no technical sense. See, most recently, P. R. Davies, Beyond the
Essenes. History and Ideology in the Dead Sea Scrolls, Atlanta, 1987, pp. 51-
72.1 have deliberately avoided associations of these terms and their equally
cliched opposite 'evil'.
57. Gen. R. 38.6 and parallels, but available already in the proof text used
there: Diraw rrn nriN (Ezek. 33.24).
58. 'It was she (i.e. Wisdom) who, when the nations in their single-minded
wickedness were put to confusion, recognized the righteous man and kept
him blameless before God' (10.5). Cf. the commentary by Winston (AB, vol.
43, pp. 214f.) who connects the 'single-mindedness' with the rabbinic view
that the Generation of the Separation were of'one n2PP'. Jubilees (10.18,22)
also knows of the idea of the 'counsel' that the Generation of the Separation
followed but appears to have regarded Peleg rather than Abraham as the
righteous one of the period.
59. 6.1-18.
60. Wernberg-M011er, 'pis, p^lS and pm in the Zadokite Documents
(CDC), the Manual of Discipline (DSD) and the Habakkuk-Commentary
(DSH)', VT 3 (1953), pp. 310-315.
61. The restoration follows that of Stegemann (op. cit., pp. 92f.; cf. also
Murphy-O'Connor, RB 81, p. 240), despite the objections of Morgan (Pesharim:
Qumran Interpretations of Biblical Books [CBQMS, 8], 1979, p. 190) that the
space may be too small for miiT and noting the phrase mirp 'VKnD ^D in
CD 20.26f.
62. Gen. R. with slight variants in later midrashim such as the two
recensions of Tanhuma. To some extent this contrasts with the texts that
state that Nimrod was the leader of the Separation. That contrast can be
pushed too far for the instigators do not have to be the leaders, as is made
clear in PRE 11, 'They made Nimrod king over them.' Nimrod, it should be
noted, was the son of Cush.
63. Gen. R. 38.6; cf. also PR 50.6 (a shorter version, omitting the second
part and given in the name of R. Eleazar).
64. Note particularly the story recorded in 3 Baruch 3.5 (Generation of the
Separation), PsJ Ex. 24.10, PRE 48 (Servitude in Egypt). The equation
between the two biblical events is found as early as Philo (see n. 44, above).
Since it is earlier than the other texts, 3 Baruch would likely have the
original place for this story, but it too alludes to details of the events of
Exodus (cf. H.E. Gaylord in James H. Charlesworth, The Old Testament
Pseudepigrapha, I, 1983, p. 65 n. 3).
65. Cf. Charles, ad loc., and G. Jeremias, Der Lehrer der Gerechtigkeit,
1963, p. 88. The latter also notes that the occurrences of KW in the Hodayot
are related to CD and the Habakkuk pesher.
66. Rabin to CD 4.19.
67. Op. cit., pp. 69-82, 178.
68. Op. cit., pp. 239-44.
69. Ibid. p. 239. Davies (Beyond the Essenes, p. 71) speaks of a 'Zadokite
infiltration of Qumran' and suggests a possible 'return from Leontopolis'.
70. The only possibility would be to understand the text of 4QpNah 3-5 iii
3-5 (quoted above, n. 29) as a prediction with the benefit of hindsight.
71. Jonathan Goldstein, Tales of the Tobiads', in J. Neusner, ed., Christianity,
Judaism and Other Greco-Roman Cults. Studies for Morton Smith at Sixty,
Part 3, Leiden, 1975, pp. 91-121.
72. ph seems to be the spelling at 4.19 and in the A text at 8.12, 18.
73. Tcherikover, Hellenistic Civilization and the Jews, Philadelphia, 1961,
p. 279.
74. C. Ap. 2.50-52 and the passing reference in Ant. 13.65.
75. Ant. 13.285.
76. War is again a frequent motif in rabbinic interpretation of Gen. 11 and
is found as early as Philo (On the Confusion of Tongues, 44).
77. 56.16. Falk (Jewish Law Annual 2 [1979], pp. 34f.) suggests that the
Temple Scroll denounces a Jewish presence in Egypt and that 'for war' is a
'reproach to Jewish mercenaries'. It should not be thought that the Temple
Scroll's rewriting of Dt. 17.16 is necessarily 'sectarian' exegesis for it. is
difficult, though not impossible, to explain m. San. 2.4 without such an
understanding of the biblical text.
78. lQisaa 19.20 tf?rsm TH r-îo on1? rften for MT on1? rften
tfram 3T! tfnsno. Cf. R. Hayward, 'The Jewish Temple at Leontopolis: A
Reconsideration', JJS 33 (1982), p. 440f.
79. CPJ I. The reading is far from clear. See conveniently Tcherikover, op.
cit., p. 498.
80. Ant. 12.387; 20.235f.
81. War 7.436. For the problems of identification see, inter alios, M.
Delcor, 'Le Temple d'Onias en figypte', RB 75 (1968), pp. 188-205.
82. It is possible that Onias renovated an existing temple (cf. Ant. 13.66-
71) or took over a military chaplaincy. We note the various reports in the
various traditions of patriarchs stopping at Heliopolis and perhaps very
significantly the fact that according to Artapanus the forced construction
work during the Servitude in Egypt included building the temple at
Heliopolis (frag. 3.2). There is every possibility that there was some tradition
for the temple at Leontopolis tracing its history back before Onias. Another
possibility is the theory advanced by M. A. Beek, 'Relations entre Jerusalem
et la Diaspora 6gyptienne au deuxieme siecle avant Jdsus-Christ', Oudtesta-
mentische Studien 2 (1943), pp. 119-43.
83. Cf. M. Delcor, art. cit., p. 189.

84. In Danielem 11.14.
85. CD 1.5-12. We note that this dating fits well with Rowley's view that
Onias III was the Teacher of Righteousness (H.H. Rowley, The Zadokite
Fragments and the Dead Sea Scrolls, 1952, pp. 67ff.).
86. It is not clear what CD 1.13ff., 'this is the time ... when the Man of
Scoffing who dripped arose ...', means.
87. Since b. Men. 110 speaks of a rivalry it is distinctly possible that both
figures 'appeared' at the same time.
88. Meyer, p. 43. n. 4; similarly, e.g. Montgomery, ICC, pp. 438f.; Lacocque,
p. 33; Wacholder, The Dawn ofQumran, pp. 201f.
89. Interestingly the Septuagint of Daniel 11.14 renders J1TPI by 'prophecy'
(npoc|)TiTeiav) in contrast to all other occurrences of ptn in Daniel which are
rendered more literally, see S. P. Jeansonne, The Old Greek Translation of
Daniel 7-12 (CBQMS, 19), 1988 p. 59. Theodotion's rendering of *riB by
Aoiuoov is also worthy of attention since this is also a translation of Hebrew
p1?. Cf. Montgomery, loc. cit.
90. 'Qui dereliquerunt legem Domini, volentes in alio loco praeter iussum
erat, Deo victimas immolare ...'(/ Danielem 11.14). In this Jerome seems
to be inspired by Ant. 13.69ff. It is possible with Marcus (Josephus, vol. VII,
p. 261) to see Josephus' remarks as directed against the choice of a pagan site
for a temple but it seems more likely that Onias is being criticized simply for
building a rival temple.
91. Although this is not specifically stated by Josephus it can be inferred
from b. Men. 109ff. and t. Men. 13.12-15, but there was some uncertainty in
rabbinic times, for b. Meg. lOa contains the statement, 'I have heard that
sacrifices were made at Onias' temple'.
92. Cf. Josephus, War 1.31-33; 7.421ff.
93. B. Men. 110.
94. The Talmud continues with R. Judah's statement that it was not for
idol worship but rather D^Dt? Dty1?, leaving the precise attitude of the Talmud
unclear. The standard interpretation that it was 'illegal but not heterodox'
seems to have begun with Abraham Geiger (Urschrift und Ubersetzungen der
Bibel, 1928, p. 36), from where it spread unacknowledged through the
secondary literature.
95. M. Men. 13.10.
96. CD 8.4. The reading of the manuscript is corrupt. D1DPJ p3T is the
reconstruction.
97. B. Men. 109a.
98. Hayward, passim.
99. Vermes, Postbiblical Jewish Studies, 1975, pp. 82-85.
100. War, 7.432; Ant. 13.68.
101. B. Men. 110.
102. Likewise the Targum to Hos. 5.11 understands those who went after
IS as 'because their judges turned to go astray after filthy lucre (Nlptf J10D)'.
The latter phrase is the Aramaic equivalent of CD's HITCH Pi Jin (8.5) in a
variant of the description of one of the nets of Belial in which those who go
after IS are trapped (cf. also 6.15).
103. The first two phrases represent the MT of Hos.3.4 which continues
with (D'B-ini -I1BN JW) i-QSD JW rat pw. The second pair of phrases is an
interpretation of 2 Chron. 15.3 mo JPD Vtfri nDN VftN N^?. Kimchi's
interpretation of the first element as 'judges' is entirely in line with rabbinic
interpretation of similar occurrences of DVftN in the Hebrew Bible. The
Targum's DT T^D pro n^7, 'no priest teaching righteousness', may be a last
trace of the interpretation preserved in CD. This provides us with a link
between the Dead Sea Scrolls' use of 'Teacher of Righteousness' and the
medieval phrase 'priest teaching righteousness'. For the latter see M.
Bregman, 'Another Reference to "A Teacher of Righteousness" in Midrashic
Literature', RQ 10 (1979), pp. 97-100. The effect, if not the motive, of CD's
phrasing is to remove the cultic elements from the Hosea text or perhaps to
suppress any reminiscence of the PUTD and P12SD of Isa. 19.19.
104. See Wernberg-M011er, VT 3, p. 313.
105. There does not seem to be great merit in regarding this passage as
being a late insertion (contrast J. Duhaime, 'Dualistic Reworking in the
Scrolls from Qumran', CBQ 49 [1987], pp. 32-56). The observation that it
does not at first glance fit with what precedes and what follows (cf. Schechter
and Charles) is well taken though perhaps overstated. Furthermore the
reference to Jannes and Jambres in 2 Tim. 3.8 would have to be judged as
similarly out of place in an identical sequence of catalogue of sins, attribution
to ignorance and comparison with Jannes and Jambres. The contrast
between the dualism of CD 5.16-19 and the rest of the text is also somewhat
overstated; the contrast is surely between the explicit dualism of this passage
and the implicit dualism of the text as a whole. We note that in the Koran
(2.96[102]) Harut and Marut who are thought by some to be Jannes and
Jambres in another guise are present in Babylon.
106. Art. cit., p. 433.
107. Collins in Charlesworth, I, 1983, p. 405.
108. Dan. 10.5; 12.6, 7.
109. Ezek. 9.2, 3, 11; 10.2, 6, 7.
110. See Targumim and commentators, as well as Peshitta. The text
continues with 'on account of which they performed processions and rites to
gods of stone and earthenware and were devoid of sense'. Could this be an
echo of Onias's request (recorded in Ant. 13.66-71) to rebuild a ruined pagan
Temple?
111. Midrash Mishle, ad loc. See also Rashi, ad /oc., and Midrash Aggadah
to Dt. 19.14.
112. On the Posterity of Cain, 89. Philo follows the variant reading or
midrash of LXX that the number is that of the angels of God.
113. Hans Burgmann ('"The Wicked Woman": der Makkabaer Simon?',

RQ 9 [1974], pp. 254-8; reprinted in Zwei losbare Qumranprobleme: Die
Person des Lugenmannes, Die Interkalation im Kalendar, Frankfurt, 1986,
pp. 64-68) makes a similar interpretation of 'boundary moving' in CD but
applies it to the Maccabean conquests.
114. An. cit., p. 432. Cf. also b. Suk. 49a for a close variation of the
Targum's interpretation. Also Rashi on Mic. 4.8 suggests that (111'') *?"UO
should be interpreted as the Temple, and in so doing he seems to be the first
after 1 Enoch to be on record as making such a connection. It may just be
significant here that according to some rabbinic texts David decides on the
height of the Temple following an encounter with a giant horned animal that
takes place while he is pasturing flocks (cf. m. Teh. 22.28, 78.20, 91.1,
92.9).
115. BR 38.6. See also Tan. M 24; ARN 12.
116. Charlesworth, op. cit., I, p. 801 n. 25a. A similar thought may also be
present in Jub. 3.28 where it is stated that prior to the Fall the animals
had been 'of one speech and one language'.
117. A. Kasher, The Jews in Hellenistic and Roman Egypt, pp. 119ff.
118. CPy, II, no. 417 11.3-4.
119. Babylon was the ancient name for Fustat which eventually became
Cairo (see AJ. Butler, Babylon of Egypt, Oxford, 1914); and this is of course
where the Cairo Geniza, which contained the first known manuscripts of the
Damascus Document, is located. Could it be that that Geniza held copies of
the version actually sent to Onias from Qumran?
PART III
TARGUMS AND RABBINICA

QUID ATHENIS ETHIEROSOLYMIS?
RABBINIC MIDRASH AND
HERMENEUTICS IN THE GRAECO-ROMAN WORLD*
Philip S. Alexander
University of Manchester
Athens or Jerusalem
The idea that Christian European civilization has two main
historical roots, one going back to classical Greece, the other to
ancient Israel, is one of the oldest and most pervasive tenets of
western thought. These two traditionsthe Hellenic and the
Hebraicto which the West is heir have usually been seen as
fundamentally different, and, indeed, as opposeda view often
expressed through Tertullian's famous question, Quid Athenis et
Hierosolymis?, 'What has Athens in common with Jerusalem?', to
which the implied answer has normally been a resounding, 'Nothing!'1
Historians have tended to see western civilization as existing in the
interval of tension between 'Athens' and 'Jerusalem', like an
electromagnetic field between the poles of a magnet. Attempts are
made periodically to discover the distinctive essences of the two
traditions, and movements of thought arise which claim to promote
one against the otherHellenism against Hebraism, and vice
versa.2
Usually the differences between 'Athens' and 'Jerusalem' have
been defined in terms of concrete beliefs or ideas. For example, the
Hebraic doctrine of creation has been contrasted with the Hellenic
doctrine of the eternity of the world. Some, however, have argued
that the differences can be defined more radically in terms of
hermeneutics: 'Athens' differs from 'Jerusalem' in its whole approach
to reality in general, and to the interpretation of texts in particular.
This notion that there is a distinctively Hebraic as opposed to
Hellenic hermeneutics surfaces in the work of the influential

contemporary literary critic Harold Bloom. Bloom has developed an
elaborate theory of criticism which sees all creative writing (whether
poetry or prose) as an implicit reading of a precursor text. To
understand any given text one must identify its precursor and
analyse the inter-relationship of the two texts. Bloom sees the
relationship in Freudian terms as essentially Oedipal: the strong,
younger writer will use every means in his powerincluding
'Oedipal trespass'to escape the dominating influence of the older.
Bloom construes the role of literary criticism in very similar terms-
save that in literary criticism (unlike 'creative' writing) the precursor
text is explicit, being the text at hand which the critic is setting out to
explain. Though Jewish, Bloom formulated the broad outlines of his
theory before he became aware of possible Jewish antecedents to his
ideas.3 Then he discovered the Qabbalah, and he was struck by the
thought that its strong reading of the Biblical text is a striking
illustrationperhaps, one might say, vindicationof his theories.4
Increasingly he seems eager to emphasize the Jewish parallels to his
thought, and to present his theories as an attack from a Hebraic
standpoint on the Hellenism of the New Critics who dominated
American literary criticism in the thirties and fortiesRansom, Tate,
Warren and Cleanth Brooks. This is certainly how Susan Handelman
sees Bloom's work, and she has attempted (as Bloom has not) to
justify this judgment historically by analysing the nature of classic
Jewish Bible exegesis, and so demonstrating the essentially Rabbinic
character of Bloom's criticism.5
Jos6 Faur is another writer who has argued recently that there is a
Hebraic as opposed to a Hellenic way of reading texts.6 Faur is
particularly interesting for our purposes, because, unlike Handelman
and Bloom, he is an expert in Rabbinic literature who unquestionably
knows the sources at first hand. Faur's central thesis is that the
Rabbis' theory of textuality is more or less the same as that found in
modern semiotics, so much so that one can talk of 'Rabbinic
semiotics'. He sets up a binary opposition between Greek and Judaic
thought: the former is ontological, visual and geometrical, the latter
is semiological, auditory and algebraic. Greek categories of thought,
he argues, have dominated European civilization with the result that
Rabbinic modes of thought, especially as expressed in Rabbinic Bible
hermeneutics, have remained outside of, and opposed to, the cultural
code of the West. Recently, however, the situation has begun to
ALEXANDER Quid Athenis et Hierosolymis? 103
change. In structuralism and post-structuralism ideas close to those

of the Rabbis have emerged within the western tradition:
Contemporary critical theory is now challenging many of the
premisses and categories separating western from rabbinic literary
theory. Structural and post-structural criticism ... has resulted in
a common ground sufficient to permit exploring some of the
fundamental principles underlying rabbinic interpretative and
literary theory in terms of contemporary critical analysis.7
A line runs from Rabbi Aqiba to Jacques DerridaReb Derrida as he
once playfully called himself: Benei Beraq has more in common with
Paris than one might have thought:
The object of derasha is liberation from conventional reading. As
did Jacques Derrida, the rabbis sought 'a freeplay', amounting to a
'methodical craziness' whose purpose is the 'dissemination' of
texts; this craziness, though 'endless and treacherous and terrifying,
liberates us to an errance joyeuse'?
Behind these breathtaking generalizations appears to lie a simple
historical claim which it is the aim of this paper to investigate. The
claim is that Rabbinic hermeneutics as exemplified in classic
Rabbinic midrash is fundamentally different from Greek hermeneutics
as exemplified in the interpretation of texts in the Graeco-Roman
world. Evidence will be brought which at least prima facie suggests
that this is not the case: the hermeneutics of the Rabbis can be
paralleled in all essentials from the hermeneutics of the Graeco-
Roman world. Rabbinic hermeneutics is thoroughly of its time and
place: it is a form of the hermeneutical code which prevailed
throughout the world of late antiquity.
Midrash
Before turning to hermeneutics in the Graeco-Roman world it is
necessary to say something about the vexed question of the nature
and definition of midrash, which embodies Rabbinic hermeneutics.9
For the purposes of the present analysis I shall restrict the
phenomenon of midrash within early Jewish literature to the corpus
of classic Rabbinic midrashimworks such as Sifre, Sifra, Mekhilta
deRabbi Ishmael, and Genesis Rabbah. I shall, consequently, side-
step the controversy over whether or not the Qumran pesharim^
Philo, apocalyptic, the so-called 'rewritten Bible' texts (Jubilees,
Genesis Apocryphon, Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum\ and the

Targumim should be classified as midrash.
Even with such a restricted reference midrash is still a highly
complex phenomenon which can be analysed as process, artefact,
and form. As process, midrash describes the application of certain
Rabbinic exegetical techniques to Scripture. Some of those techniques
(though by no means all) are defined in the Rabbinic lists of
hermeneutical normsthe Seven Middotof Hillel, the Thirteen of
Ishmael and the Thirty-Two of Yose ha-Gelili.10As artefact, midrash
denotes the end-product of the application of such a hermeneutical
system to Scripturea midrashic text, which may range in length
from a short pericope expounding a single word or verse (a
microtext), to an extensive document such as Genesis Rabbah which
expounds a whole Biblical book (a macrotext). Midrash, finally,
denotes the form or forms of such a midrashic text. There are a
number of distinctive literary formsboth simple and composite-
embodied in midrashic texts. Simple forms are forms which cannot
meaningfully be reduced to other forms; composite forms are
constellations of simple forms. The former tend, naturally, to
correlate with microtexts, the latter with macrotexts. The fundamental
and all pervasive form of midrash is Biblical Lemma + Comment.
Form is fundamental to the definition of midrash: any text which
does not display the Lemma + Comment form is not, strictly
speaking, a midrash, however much it may appear to reflect the
application of midrashic methods of exegesis. A midrash should
display all three aspects of the phenomenonprocess, artefact and
form. Form is fundamental to midrash because it is the base-form of
Lemma + Comment which make possible the expression of some of
the basic principles of midrash: to a degree form determines the
nature of the process. First, it allows a polyvalent reading of
Scripture. Midrash (unlike Targum and 'rewritten Bible') regularly
gives multiple and sometimes contradictory interpretations of the
text, introduced by such formulae as davar aher, 'another interpretation'.
Second, it allows named authorities to be quotedRabbi Ishmael,
Rabbi Aqiba and so forth. Midrash goes out of its way to quote the
scholars by name, to create the impression of an on-going tradition of
interpretation which is a collective enterprise. Third, the Lemma +
Comment form allows the exegetical reasoning to be made explicit.
In particular it allows Scripture to be linked explicitly with Scripture
and other verses to be quoted (introduced by formulae such as
sene'emar, 'as it is said').
So much for midrash. The problem now to be addressed is

whether or not midrash, and the Rabbinic hermeneutical system it
expresses, can be paralleled from the Graeco-Roman world. The
Graeco-Roman evidence will be briefly surveyed under four heads:
(1) the exegesis of Homer and the classics; (2) the interpretation of
law; (3) rhetorical elaboration of argument; and (4) the interpretation
of dreams (oneirocritica).
Homer and the Classics

In surveying the activity of commentating in the Graeco-Roman
world it is appropriate to begin with Homer. Homer, the 'prophet of
all', held pride of place in the canon of Greek literature, and his was
probably the earliest text to generate commentarieshypomnemata.11
As the name hypomnemata suggests, these commentaries originated
in lectures on Homer within the Hellenistic schools. The majority of
the commentaries belong to what Schulz calls the 'lemmatic type',12
i.e. like Rabbinic midrash and Qumran pesher they are genuine
commentaries in the Lemma + Comment form. Text and commentary
were normally written on separate scrolls, the commentary and the
text being related in two main ways: (1) by means of lemmata, i.e., as
the Greek word suggests, by words or phrases 'taken' from the
original, and (2) by means of critical signs which correspond to
similar signs in the original text. The use of these critical signs
reminds us that the basic aim of many of the commentaries was
textual: they were concerned with the preservation of the original
text from corruption, and, indeed, where it was felt necessary, with
its emendation. An edition of the original was prepared in which
certain problematic words or verses were obelized. These were then
discussed at length in the commentary, and solutions propounded.
Lieberman claims that in the whole of Rabbinic midrash there is not
a single case of a genuine emendation of the original text of the kind
so beloved of the Alexandrian grammarians.13 In a narrow sense this
is true, but the motive of preserving the original from corruption was
surely not unknown to the rabbis. An apparatus for preserving the
original Hebrew only comes to full flowering in the Massorah of the
early Middle Ages, but it must have been present in a number of
more elementary forms already in the Talmudic period. It should be
noted, moreover, that the use of the obelus in Homer actually argues
a certain respect for the received text. The Greek scholars show a
tendency to leave the standard text intact, and to confine their

suggested improvements to the accompanying notes.
The lemma is normally of the abbreviated type, i.e., only
catchwords or a caption are quoted. Sometimes, however, the
lemmata give the full text, in which case the work can be regarded as
containing both an edition of the text, as well as a commentary. The
lemma is often made easy to find by being written outside the text
(eicQeau;), usually protruding into the margin, or by the use of special
symbols (colons and dashes), or by spacing.
The content of the commentaries is diverse. P.Oxy 1086 (1st cent.
BCE), on Iliad II, explains less obvious words and phrases, glosses
geographical and mythological names, and discusses at length
Aristarchus's reasons for condemning lines 791-5. P.Oxy 221 (1st
cent. CE), attributed to the scholar Ammonius, comments on Iliad
XXI: it quotes authorities by name, discusses athetized passages,
unusual words (e.g. the name Achelous), and the accentuation. The
separate mention of eels and fish at line 203 becomes the occasion for
a disquisition on natural history. This tendency to learned disquisition
is evident also in P.Oxy 1087 (1st cent. BCE), which comments on
Iliad VII.14
K. Lehrs, in an important essay first published in 1833,15
distinguished two groups of grammarians who commented on Homer.
One group, the evatariKoi, brought various charges (Karriyopiai)
against the writings of Homer, the other group, the A,UUKOI,
attempted to refute the accusations and to offer a defence (ctnoAoyia)
of the poet. Athenaeus, DeipnosophistaeXI, 493d, gives an example of
how this worked. The problem concerned Iliad XI 636f:
Another man could hardly move the cup from the table
When it was full, but Nestor, that old man, raised it easily.
Sosibius, the A,UTIKO<;, reports Athenaeus, commented on this couplet

as follows: Today the charge is brought against the Poet that,
whereas he said all others raised the cup with difficulty, Nestor alone
did it without difficulty. And it does seem unreasonable (ctXoYov)
that, in the presence of Diomedes and Ajax, to say nothing of
Achilles, Nestor should be represented as more vigorous than they,
though he was more advanced in years. From these charges we can
absolve the Poet by assuming the figure called anastrophe (rourcov
coivuv outox; Kcrrr|YOpoi)|jLeva>v rrj dvacn;pCK{>rj xpTiaduevoi dnoXuouev

TOV noiTirriv). That is, from the second line, nXeiov eov, Necrccop 8' 6
yepcov dfJoyTiTi deipev, we should remove the word yepwv from the
middle of the verse and place it at the beginning of the first line after
oAAxx;, and construe the words at the beginning thus: oAAoc; jaev
yepcov (aoyecov dnoKivrjoaaKe xpanitj]*^ nAsiov eov, 6 8e Necrccop
duoyriti aeipev ('Another old man could hardly move the cup from
the table/ When it was full, but Nestor raised it easily'). With the
words in this order, it is clear that Nestor is the only one of the old
men, no matter who they were, who raised the cup without
difficulty'.16
This approach to commentating by way of offering solutions
(A,uo6i<;) to difficulties (dnopiai) in the text generated a whole body
of 'problematic' literature, like the 'Ourjpucd npopAruiaca. of
Heraclitus, and the 'OuTjpixd ^r|Tf||acn;a of Porphyrius. The word
OiTT||a(rca here recalls the technical use of the verb Cn-ceco, <to
inquire', in this literature. The problems are often introduced by the
formula: ^levcou, 8id u ..., or simply by 8id u ... This sort of
problematic literature extends far beyond Homer. Note, for example,
the nAxrccoviKd ^rnuata of Pseudo-Plutarch.
The similarities between this kind of Homeric commentary and
Rabbinic midrash (in respect of form, content and general approach)
do not need labouring. There is a great deal of midrash concerned
with philological matters (e.g. the explanation of rare words and even
grammatical forms), with realia, and with the identification of place-
names. The sort of learned disquisition on natural history which we noted
in P.Oxy 221 can also be paralleled in midrash. For example, natural
history comes into discussion of the laws of kashrut, not to mention
'cosmology' and 'science' into midrash of the story of creation. The
Rabbis were nothing if they were not scholars. The Rabbis also
elaborate their discourses (both in Talmud and midrash) through
posing and solving problems. These units of discourse, which are
traditionally known as be'ayot (= npopXTJuata/ dnopiai) often begin
with the formula mippene mah, 'on account of what...?' (= 8id TI).
Note also the semantic overlap of the verb ^TCECD used in Greek
exegetical literature, and the verb daras used in Rabbinic.17 Of
particular interest is the fact that both the Rabbinic midrashim and
the Greek hypomnemata cite authorities by name, since this is not a
feature of other types of early Jewish Bible commentary, e.g. the
Qumran pesharim.
The commentaries we have considered so far are antiquarian in

character, that is to say, they are concerned essentially with
academic, scholarly matters. Homer, however, was subjected to
interpretation from another angle. Homer, and to a lesser extent
Hesiod, functioned as central religious texts in Greek culture: they
were the two primary sources of Greek theology. But from a moral
and religious viewpoint Homer and Hesiod came to be seen as posing
problems: they report the Olympian gods as indulging in all sorts of
immorality and vice, as being, to sophisticated perceptions, rather
unsavoury characters. Already in the sixth century BCE Xenophanes
of Colophon was complaining that 'Homer and Hesiod have
attributed to the gods all that is shameful and a reproach among
men, theft, adultery and mutual deception'.18 The only way to save
the text was by a radical reinterpretation, by treating it as allegory,
i.e., as saying something different from what it appeared to be saying.
Greek tradition has it that this allegorizing of Homer began with
Xenophanes' contemporary, Theagenes of Rhegium, who began to
look for 'hidden meanings' (unovoiat) in the works of Homer. In the
late fifth century BCE Metrodorus of Lampsacus, a pupil of
Anaxagoras (who may have taught that Homer in his poems treats
'of virtue and justice' [nepi dpetfj? Kai 6iKaiocn3vTi<;]19), developed a
full-blown allegorical reading of Homer. The Stoics did much to
popularize this allegorizing by systematically reading their philosophy
and cosmology into Homer.
Again the parallels with midrash do not need to be spelled out at
length. The Rabbis, too, inherited a sacred text which, to a
significant degree, was out of step with their morality, and their
world-view. They too looked for the hidden sense of Scripture and
'saved' it by subjecting it to allegorical reinterpretation, i.e., they
made it say something different from what it appeared to say.
Porphyry's Platonic allegorizing of Homer is most obviously
paralleled in Jewish literature in Philo's Platonic allegorizing of the
Torah, but it should be remembered that such philosophical allegory
is not unknown in midrash: note, e.g., Rabbi Hoshaiah's famous
midrash at the beginning of Genesis Kabbah (1.1).
Homer may have been the first to attract commentaries, but he
was by no means the last; other classics were also subjected to
glossing. Greek commentaries are extant on Aristotle's Tofrica, on
some of the plays of Aristophanes, on Plato's Theaetetus, on the
speeches of Demosthenes (by Didymus the grammarian), on parts of
the Hippocratic corpus (by Galen)to mention but a few examples.

And in Latin we have Asconius on Cicero's speeches (from the time
of Nero); Servius on Vergil (4th cent.); Aelius Donatus on Vergil
(c. 350); Tiberius Claudius Donatus on the Aeneid (c. 400); and
Boethius on the Topics of Cicero (6th cent.).
In addition to the lemmatic commentary we should note in passing
the genre of epitome in the Graeco-Roman world. The basic purpose
of the epitomist was to shorten a longer work by extracting from it
what seemed to him essential. This was done in a variety of ways,
ranging from excerpting of selected passages to independent
summarizing of contents. When the epitomist adds observations of
his own, or material drawn from other sources, we have what Schulz
calls 'commenting epitome'.20 There are obvious similarities between
'commenting epitome' and the 'rewritten Bible' texts of early
Judaism. It is interesting to note that in Greek culture epitomizing
was rather looked on as hack work, and not real scholarship.
Interpretation of Law
Commentary played a central role also in the sphere of law. Here,
too, the same basic situation pertained: an authoritative text was in
need of interpretation and application. The situation may be
illustrated from Roman law, which provides a more unified and
better documented tradition than Greek law.21
In Rome interpretatio (= 'the explanation of the significance of a
legal norm or term'22) originally fell exclusively within the province
of the pontiffs and of the other priestly colleges. In the third century
BCE, however, beginning probably with Appius Claudius Caecus
(cos. 307 and 296 BCE), lay experts in the law (called iurisprudentes,
or, more commonly, prudentes) began to come to the fore. These lay
jurists appear to have been men of high social position who had the
time and the inclination to devote themselves to the study of law.
They were 'amateurs' in the strict sense of the term: though some of
them doubtless held magistracies at various points in their careers,
'jurist' was not as such a recognized public office at this time. Any
individual jurist's authority depended on his social standing, on the
public offices he had filled, and, above all, on the reputation he had
acquired for legal knowledge and expertise. His reputation rested on
public perception of the quality of his legal opinions and the cogency
of his legal reasoning.
Despite their unofficial status the jurists played a central role in

Roman legal history. They acted as jurisconsults (iurisconsulti)
whose opinions were sought, in the form of responsa, by private
individuals, by advocates and orators, and by judges. They appear to
have assisted the praetor urbanus in drafting the Edict which he
issued on entering his term of office. They drew up wills, contracts
and other forms of legal document. And, although they did not,
strictly speaking, teach school, they did allow suitable young men of
good family to study informally with them and to observe how they
dealt with legal problems in the forum or at home. Pomponius credits
these jurists with laying the foundations of the civil law. He writes:
'After the enactment of these laws [i.e. of the XII Tables] there arose
a necessity for forensic debate, as it is the normal and natural
outcome that problems of interpretation should make it desirable to
have guidance from learned persons (... ut naturaliter evenire solet,
ut interpretatio desidaret prudentium auctoritatem). Forensic debate,
and jurisprudence which without formal writing emerges as expounded
by learned men (hoc ius, quod sine scripto venit compositum a
prudentibus), has no special name of its own like other subdivisions of
the law designated by name (there being names given to these other
subdivisions); it is called by the name "civil law"(w/$ civile}' (Digest
1.2.2.5). Elsewhere Pomponius designates as one of the main sources
of Roman law 'our own ius civile which is grounded without formal
writing in nothing more than interpretation by learned jurists
(proprium ius civile, quod sine scripto in sola prudentium interpretatione
consistity (Digest 1.2.2.12).
In post-Republican times jurists continued to play an important
pan in the interpretation and administration of law. It is, perhaps, a
testimony to their influence (both actual and potential) that the State
increasingly tried to institutionalize and bureaucratize their role.
Augustus authorized certain jurists to give responsa ex auctoritate
principis (though he did not suppress the right of 'unauthorized'
jurists to give responsa, in Republican fashion, on their own private
authority). Hadrian abandoned this scheme of authorization; instead
he entrusted his consilium, which included some of the leading
lawyers of his day, with the task of'policing' the administration and
practice of the law. And by the time of Hadrian it had become
standard for all magistrates to be advised by jurists (known as
adsessores) who were appointed and paid by the State. It seems that
in many cases the magistrates wielded very little power but merely
ALEXANDER Quid Athenis et Hierosolymis? Ill
'rubber-stamped' the decisions made by their assessors.

Legal training in Rome began to be formalized in the time of
Augustus. The two earliest Roman law-schools, founded according to
Pomponius by Labeo and Capito (Digest 1.2.2.47-53), belong to this
period. They were probably organized along Hellenistic lines, and
doubtless like the Roman schools of grammar, rhetoric and medicine,
were recognized in due course as corporations by the State. The
bureaucratization of legal training reached its acme in the fourth-
sixth centuries CE. By then a State-controlled legal profession had
emerged. All advocates had to have completed a five-year course of
study in a State law-school, where they were taught by professional,
salaried teachers. Justinian limited the teaching of law to the three
imperial schools of Rome, Berytus and Constantinople, and laid
down in considerable detail the syllabus they were to follow. Juristic
training and jurisprudence in this period becomes strongly classicizing,
i.e., it consists largely of the elucidation and adaptation of a small
canon of authoritative, classic legal texts. The political purpose of
this bureaucratization is clear: it was aimed at limiting the freedom
of the jurists to give their own interpretation of the law. Justinian
bluntly makes the point that just as the emperor alone has the right
to enact laws, so he alone has the right to interpret them: 'If
... anything should appear doubtful it is to be referred by judges to
the very summit of the empire and made clear by the imperial
authority, to which alone it is granted both to create laws and
interpret them (hoc ad imperiale culmen per indices referatur et ex
auctoritate Augusta manifestetur, cui soli concession est leges et
condere et interpretari)' (Tanta 21).
It is within the broad context of the need for interpretation that we
should place the Roman legal commentaries. These are found both in
lemmatic form and as epitomes, the former being rather more
numerous than the latter. Ulpian's commentary Ad Edictum in
eighty-three books, extensive portions of which survive,23 illustrates
the type. 'A strict scheme of exposition is adhered to. The
commentary on each title begins with a general consideration of its
heading which provides an introductory orientation in regard to the
individual Edicts of the title. The commentary on the individual
Edict gives (1) the text of the Edict; (2) a close interpretation of its
clauses, in which the clauses serve as lemmata or captions, and the
commentary follows; (3) the text of \heformula offered by the Edict;
(4) any necessary interpretation of the formula, also in lemmatic
form' (Schulz24). The following fragment of Gaius's commentary on

the XII Tables may give something of the flavour of these commentaries.
The lemma was a law which forbade killing an enemy, if you find
him within your house, 'unless he defends himself with a weapon'
(nisi se telo defendit').25 Gaius discusses what is meant here by 'a
weapon' (telum):
Telum, indeed, is commonly the name given to that which is
launched from a bow, but it equally signifies anything which is
launched by hand; so it follows that stone, wood and iron are
included in this noun. And it is so called from the fact that it is
launched into the distance, having been derived from the Greek
TTjAou ('afar'). We can find the same sense also in a Greek noun, for
what we call telum they call (3eAo<; ('missile'), from pdAAsoGcu ('to
be thrown'). Xenophon reminds us of this, for thus he writes: "The
missiles (TCI 3eA.ii) were hurled togetherspears, arrows, sling-
stones, and very many rocks as well'.26 That which is launched
from a bow is designated by the Greeks with the specific noun
Toeu|uaTa, but is designated by us with the general noun
telum.21
Clearly Gaius is making a serious legal point here: he wants telum to
be taken in its widest possible sense (against what he seems to
concede is 'common usage'), presumably to prevent anyone from
arguing that the law applied only to someone defending himself with
an arrow. But his reasoning is surprisingly philological. He tries to
prove that by etymology telum is a general term meaning anything
that is launched into the distance, and that its semantic range is
exactly equivalent to the Greek peAxx;, which, as the quotation from
Xenophon shows, includes spears, arrows, sling-stones and ordinary
pieces of rock. A more obviously legal way of reasoning would have
been to accept the restricted common usage, but to argue that telum
was only for the sake of example: it is hard to make a significant
distinction between an enemy defending himself with an arrow, and
one who uses a sword, or a club, or a stone. This philological interest
reminds us that the natural setting for these commentaries is the law
schools. The relationship between the commentaries and interpretatio
of law in the courts was oblique. The judges, at least in the later
empire, would have been trained on commentaries such as Gaius's,
but it is unlikely that in giving a judgment in court on some moot
legal point they would have gone off into a philological disquisition
such as we find here. In the later empire there was, arguably, a
widening gulf between the academic jurists who taught law in the
schools and the great jurists of the imperial consilium who actually
influenced the development of law. The relationship between the
academic lawyers and the real bureaucrats was probably not
dissimilar to that between the judiciary and the study of law in the
universities today.
There is a marked absence in Roman legal literature of extended
theoretical discussion of the principles to be applied in the interpretation
of legal texts. Principles are, indeed, enunciated as obiter dicta, as
when the jurist Servius states in the course of an argument that 'the
meaning of words ought to be established by common usage, not by
the judgments of individuals' (non ex opinionibus singulorum, sed ex
communi usu nomina exaudiri debere} (Digest 33.10.7.2). The Digest
collects a large number of these obiter dicta in two chapters at the
end, the first of which (50.16) is entitled De verborum signification
('The Meaning of Expressions'), and the second (50.17), De diversis
regulis iuris antiqui ('Various Rules of Early Law'). It is not always
clear how a rule for determining the meaning of a legal expression
differs from a regula iuris, but broadly speaking these two chapters
give hermeneutical norms for the interpreting of legal texts. For
example, Digest 50.16.6: 'The expression "according to the law" is to
be understood as referring to the intention of the laws as well as their
express statements'. 50.16.102: 'A law may suffer "derogation" or
"abrogation". Derogation affects a law when part of it is removed,
abrogation when it is entirely abolished'. 50.16.124: 'The words "one
or another" are not only disjunctive, but also belong to subdisjunctive
speech.' 50.16.195: 'The use of a word in the masculine gender is
usually extended to cover both genders'. 50.17.9: 'In matters that are
obscure we always adopt the least difficult view'. 50.17.56: 'In
doubtful cases the more generous view is always to be preferred'.
50.17.147: 'The special is always included in the general' (semper
specialia generalibus insunt). The absence of theoretical discussion is
probably not accidental. Like most other lawyers, Roman jurists
tended to learn law not from theory, but from practice and from the
analysis of concrete laws and cases. The limitations of rules of law
are clearly stated at Digest 50.17.1: 'A rule is something which briefly
describes how a thing is. The law may not be derived from a rule, but
a rule must arise from the law as it is. By means of a rule, therefore, a
brief description of things is handed down and, as Sabinus says, is, as
it were, the element of a case, which loses its force as soon as it
becomes in any way defective.'
There is much in the development of Roman jurisprudence, as we

have sketched it, which runs parallel to the development of Rabbinic
halakhah. The parallelism cannot be explored fully here; all we can
do is to indicate the lines along which it may be pursued. The role of
the Rabbis (the 'Sages', hakhamini) is similar to that of the Roman
jurists (\heprudentes, or 'learned men'). The Rabbis were the heirs of
the scribes (soferim), who increasingly in the post-exilic period had
taken over from the priests the task of interpreting the law. Like the
early Roman jurists, the Rabbis appear initially to have had no
official standing in society: their influence and authority rested on
the respect they earned from the general public for their knowledge
of the law and their ability at solving legal problems. They performed
all the functions of the early jurisconsults: they advised judges,
plaintiffs and defendants; they gave legal counsel in the form of
responsa; they drafted contracts, testaments and other legal documents;
and they took pupils to whom they passed on their interpretations of
the law. Their interpretation of the law became a major source of
Jewish law, and was known as the 'Oral Torah' (torah fe-be'alpeh\ in
contrast to the 'Written Torah' (torah se-bikhtav) of the Pentateuch.
In like manner, as we have seen, the interpretatio prudentium in
Rome came to constitute a ius civile which was designated as
'unwritten' (sine scripto), to distinguish it from written texts such as
the XII Tables and the praetorian Edict.
Just as jurisprudence in Rome became more institutionalized as
time went on, so the Rabbinate became more institutionalized within
Jewish society. This point may be illustrated succinctly from the
development of Rabbinic ordination (semikhak). According to the
Palestinian Talmud (y. Sanhedrin 1.2), the scholars originally ordained
their own pupils after a suitable period of training; later the approval
of a bet din was required; finally, however, ordination could only take
place with the approval of the Nasi, the Jewish Patriarch. The picture
that emerges from Talmudic sources is of an increasingly centralized
bureaucracy (cf. y. Yebamot 12.6 and Ifagigah 1.7). In the third
century CE we find the Rabbis functioning as judges in a well-
regulated system of Jewish courts spread throughout the Jewish
towns and villages of Palestine, supervised by the Nasi, who was
recognized by the Romans as the political head of the Jewish
community. They adjudicate cases involving property, bailments,
torts, damages, contracts, wills, marriage and divorce, and questions
of personal status, all largely according to Rabbinic halakhah as
contained in the Mishnah. And for the first time we get hints of
money being paid for the teaching of the Mishnah (y. Nedarim 4.3).
The Nasi functioned within Jewish society rather like the Emperor in
Roman society, and, like the Emperor, he had his consilium (known
as the 'House of the Nasi'), which doubtless included jurists who
advised him on matters of law. It was due to one of these Jewish
Patriarchs Qudah ha-Nasi) that in the early third century CE the
Mishnah, the Jewish analogue to Justinian's Digest, was promulgated
and made the basic textbook in the Rabbinic schools.
Like the Roman jurists, the Rabbis seem rather reluctant to
elaborate any theories of legal hermeneutics or to draw up general
principles of interpretation. Maxims of the regulae iuris type are
found scattered throughout Rabbinic literature: e.g. dibberah torah
kilson bene adorn (b. Berakhot 3lb)'Torah speaks in ordinary
human language' (cf. Servius's dictum quoted above: non ex
opinionibus singulorum, sed ex communi usu nomina exaudiri debere).
The Rabbis, as we noted earlier, did draw up lists of hermeneutical
norms (middot) which have a certain similarity to the norms
collected at the end of the Digest: compare, e.g., the Rabbinic rule
mipperat ukhelalhakkelal mosif 'al happerat umerabbinan hakkot2*
with the Roman legal norm semper specialia generalibus insunt.
However, as we shall presently see, the real analogies to the middot
are to be found in the rhetorical handbooks.
These comparisons must be treated with great caution. It is not
intended to imply that there are no substantial differences between
Roman and Rabbinic jurisprudence. Clearly we are dealing with two
vastly complex legal systems and much more detailed analysis is
required in order to discover whether the parallels are real and
significant. However, we have established a prima facie case for
seeing Rabbinic and Roman interpretation of law as broadly similar.
The function of interpretation in the development of the law, the role
of the jurists, the literary forms of commentary and their Sitz im
Leben, and the techniques and methods of interpretation, all appear
to be broadly the same in both systems. We have failed to identify
any fundamental differences in the hermeneutic codes of Roman and
Rabbinic legal science. Though some of the content of Rabbinic law
would have seemed strange to a Roman jurist, he would have found
little difficulty in understanding the role of the Rabbi as an
interpreter of the law, or in appreciating his legal modus operandi.
Rabbinic halakhah is thoroughly at home in the legal world of late
antiquity.
Rhetorical Elaboration of Argument

Though the orbits of the jurists and the rhetoricians overlapped, for
our purposes it is important to stress the differences between the two
professions. Rhetoric claimed to teach men how to speak effectively
in public, including the law courts. It was concerned not so much
with the interpretation of texts as with the persuasive elaboration of
arguments.29 The parallels between Rabbinic midrash and rhetoric
which have most caught the attention of scholars have largely to do
with ways of developing an argument.30 The closest analogies to the
Rabbinic lists of middot31 are to be found not in the works of
jurisprudence, but in the rhetorical handbooks. Three examples will
suffice to make the point. Quintillian, Institutio Oratoria VII 8.3,
divides the syllogism, by which he means deduction 'from the letter
of the law that which is uncertain' (ex eo quod scriptum est id quod
incertum est\ into the following five species of question: (1) 'If it is
right to do a thing once, is it right to do it often?' (an, quod semel ius
est, idem et saepius). (2) 'If the law grants a privilege with reference to
one thing, does it grant it with reference to a number?' (an, quod in
uno, et inpluribus). (3) 'If a thing is legal before a certain occurrence,
is it legal after it?' (an, quod ante, et posted). (4) 'Is that which is
lawful with regard to the whole, lawful with regard to the part?' (an,
quod in toto, idem inparte). (5) 'Is that which is lawful with regard to
a part, lawful with regard to the whole?' (an, quod in pane, idem in
toto). Fortunatianus, Ars Rhetorica I 25 (ed. Halm, Rhetores Latini
Minoresyp. 100), similarly states that the collectio (= the syllogism)
can be elaborated in five ways: Collectio quot modisfit? Quinque: a
simili, a consequent^ a contrario, a maiore ad minus, a minore ad
maius. Hermogenes, De Inventione, distinguishes five arguments
(emxeipr||Licn:a) that can be derived from the circumstances of a case,
viz. the arguments from place, time, manner, person, cause and
act,32 and he argues that, in principle, each one of those arguments
can be developed in six ways: epydêtcu 6s ndv enixetprina ... dno
napapoA,fj<;, dno napaSeiyiaacoc;, dno juiiKpo-cspou, dno êiovo<;,
dno iaou, dno evavrtou.33 The general parallelism between these
lists and the Rabbinic lists ofmiddot is obvious and may have been
noticed as early as the mediaeval Qaraite scholar Judah Hadassi (see
his Eshkol ha-Kofer 155-62). Hillel's List of seven middot
demonstrates the similarities: 'Hillel the Elder expounded seven
norms before the Bene Bathyra, and these are they: (1) qal vahomer
(2) gezerah savah (3) binyan av mikkatuv ehad uvinyan av mis'sene
ketuvim (4) mikkelal uferat (5) mipperat ukelal (6) kayyo$e bo

bemaqom aher (7) davar hallamed me'inyano'*4 Quintilian and
Fortunatianus even give brief examples of their norms, very much in
the manner of the Rabbinic glossators of the middot. (Fortunatianus
introduces his examples with quern ad modum, just as the Rabbinic
glossators introduce theirs by ke?ad.} It is true that a problem noted
elsewhere with regard to the Rabbinic middot*5 seems to apply
equally to the rhetorical norms: the rhetorical norms are both
prescriptive and descriptive; they state not only what was done, but
what, in the view of their formulators, ought to have been done, and
as an account of the actual methods of elaborating arguments or of
exegeting texts they are rather defective. However, the parallelism is
not without interest or significance. It is not necessary here to claim
that the Rabbinic middot were derived from Greek (though some
borrowing is possible, and, indeed, likely). For present purposes it is
sufficient to note that the parallelism suggests that the Rabbis and
the rhetors subscribe to a broadly similar hermeneutical code, and
that the way in which the Rabbis develop their arguments is not
fundamentally alien to the Graeco-Roman world in which they
lived.
Oneirocritica
As Lieberman has rightly noted there is a final context in which the
parallelism between Rabbinic midrash and Graeco-Roman hermeneutics
should be considered, viz. oneirocritica (the interpretation of
dreams).36 Once again we have the basic situation of an enigmatic
text (the dream), which is in some sense regarded as authoritative (a
message from the gods) and stands in need of interpretation.
Freud distinguishes two traditional methods of dream-interpretation:
(1) the symbolic method which 'considers the content of the dream as
a whole and seeks to replace it by another content which is
intelligible and in certain respects analogous to the original one'; this
approach is holistic and treats the dream as a coherent allegory; and
(2) the cipher method which 'treats dreams as a kind of cryptography
in which each sign can be translated into another sign having a
known meaning, in accordance with a fixed key'; this approach is
atomistic and regards the dream as a series of discrete, even confused
and contradictory signs.37 The Greek oneirocritica, as represented by
Artemidorus Daldianus,38 follows the cipher method and uses a
variety of devices, such as punning, numerical equivalence and

notarikon (vorapiKOv), to establish a correspondence between the
dream image and its interpretation. Artemidorus 111.28 gives a simple
example of numerical equivalence (ia6\j/r|(J)a):
A weasel signifies a cunning treacherous woman and a lawsuit. For
the word 8iKT] [lawsuit] is equal in numerical value to the word
[weasel]
Artemidorus IV.24 illustrates notarikon:
A certain military commander dreamt that the letters i,K,6 were
written on his sword. The Jewish war was being waged in Gyrene
and the dreamer gained the highest distinction in that war. This
was just what I predicted. For iota signified the Jews [TooSaioi^],
the kappa signified the Cyrenaeans [KupT]vaioi<;], and the theta
signified death [0dvaTO<;]. Before the actual event, the dream was
impossible to interpret, but once it actually came true, the
interpretation was quite obvious.
In other words the sword contained the coded message 0tivaco<;
louSaioi? [mi] Kupt|vatoi<;'Death to the Jews and the Cyrenaeans'.
There can be no doubt that the Rabbis were well acquainted with
this kind of oneirocritica. The 'dreambook' in b. Berakhot 55a-57b
employs the cipher method in the interpretation of dreams (in
marked contrast, it should be noted, to the Bible, which generally
employs the symbolic method), and shows many striking and
detailed parallels to Artemidorus.39 Take the following oft-quoted
example (56b):
A certain heretic said to Rabbi Ishmael: I dreamt that people told
me, Your father has left you money in Cappadocia. He said to him:
Have you any money in Cappadocia? No, he replied. Did your
father ever go to Cappadocia? No, he replied. In that case, said he,
kappa means a beam and dika means ten. Go and examine the
beam that is the head of ten, for it is full of coins. He went and
found it full of coins.40
The Rabbis applied at least two of the techniques of oneirocritica to
the interpretation of the aggadic portions of Scripture, viz. notarikon
(for which they used the Greek term), and numerical equivalence
(which they called gematria). They are respectively norms 29 and 30
in the list of thirty-two middot attributed to Yose ha-Gelili.41 The
application of the methods of the oneirocritica to the Bible suggests
that the Rabbis saw some similarity between the text of the dream
and the text of Scripture. They were probably not the first Jewish
exegetes to see this analogy. Earlier the Qumran sect had applied to
Scripture the pesher style of exegesis which appears to have been
associated traditionally with the interpretation of dreams. Once
again, we need not involve ourselves in the question of borrowings. It
is sufficient for our present purposes to note that in this final
hermeneutical context, as in the other three, the Rabbis appear to
have followed a hermeneutical code similar to that prevailing in the
Graeco-Roman world of their day.42
Rabbanism as a Phenomenon of Late Antiquity

How are the parallels between Rabbinic hermeneutics and the
hermeneutics of the Graeco-Roman world to be explained? In
general, not in terms of direct borrowings and influences, though
some borrowing is clearly attested. Lieberman rightly says: 'The
early Jewish interpreters of Scripture did not have to embark for
Alexandria in order to learn there the rudimentary methods of
linguistic research. To make them travel to Egypt for this purpose
would be a cruel injustice to the intelligence and acumen of the
Palestinian Sages.'43 What we are dealing with are basically parallel
social structures producing similar historical effects.
The Rabbinic and Graeco-Roman cultures in late antiquity were
parallel in two very significant respects. First, both cultures were
'classicizing', i.e. they were largely based on a body of canonic texts.44
This is obviously true of Rabbanism, but it was true to an important
degree of Graeco-Roman culture as well. Graeco-Roman culture
canonized a body of literature as the standard of excellence: its
traditions were, like the education of most European gentlemen till
recent times, based on classics. Teaching and knowledge tended to be
imparted in conjunction with the study of classical, canonic texts. If
students learned geography it was through exposition of the
wanderings of Odysseus, or through commentary on the Catalogue
of Ships. If they were taught astronomy, it was through reading a
literary text, Aratus's Phainomena. If they were taught Latin as a
foreign language, it was through reading Vergil with the help of a
Greek crib.
A second significant parallel between Rabbanism and Graeco-
Roman culture is in the role of the schools. There are interesting
similarities between the structure and functions of the Graeco-
Roman schools and the Rabbinic yeshivot. They are strongest, not
between \heyeshivot and the gymnasia, but between \heyeshivot and the
Graeco-Roman technical schools which taught, for example, engineering
law, medicine and other practical subjects. Much of the literature of
late antiquity, outside the revered 'classics', may be described as
'school literature'. The schools saw themselves as passing on a
tradition, often from a 'founder', and they preserved lists of tradents
through whom the doctrine was passed down. Within the schools, in
teaching and transmission, there was a strong emphasis on orality,
and a distrust of the written word, outside the corpus of the great
classics recognized as canonic by the school. It was necessary to sit at
the feet of the master, to hear and observe him as an apprentice, and
to learn by the living voice.45 This emphasis on orality led to a school
literature which was often rather amorphous, and represented a
snapshot of the ongoing and evolving tradition at a moment of
historical time. Much of the school literature was anonymous: it was
a collective effort, and, if it was attributed, tended to be attributed
pseudepigraphically to leading scholars of the school, or to the
'founder'.
These two factorsthe centrality of canonic texts and the role of
the schoolslargely defined the framework of hermeneutics both in
Rabbinic and in Graeco-Roman culture. Our preliminary investigations
strongly suggest that they led to the evolution of broadly similar
hermeneutical codes in both cultures. Rabbanism at this level at least
is a typical phenomenon of late antiquity, and 'Jerusalem' has a great
deal in common with 'Athens'.
NOTES
"This paper, in different forms, has been presented during the past two years
in Oxford, Dublin and Manchester, and has benefited from comments by a
number of colleagues. I would particularly like to record my thanks to
Professors John Dillon and George Huxley who made valuable and
constructive criticisms which saved me from some of the pitfalls of such a
wide-ranging investigation.
1. Tertullian, De praescriptione haereticorum VII: Quid ergo Athenis et
Hierosolymis? quid academiae et ecclesiae? quid haereticis et Christianis?
Nostra institutio de porticu Solomonis est, qui et ipse tradiderat dominum in
simplicitate cordis esse quaerendum. For a discussion of what Tertullian
himself might have meant by this see C.N. Cochrane, Christianity and
Classical Culture, New York: OUP, 1957, pp. 213-60. Cochrane, presumably
retroverting from the English, gives the question as Quid Athenae Hierosolymis?,
'What is Athens to Jerusalem?' Quid Athenis et Hierosolymis?, however, has a
rather different nuance: 'What do Athens and Jerusalem have in common?'
2. Note how the Athens/Jerusalem dichotomy forms part of the intellectual
framework of Stephen Clark's highly original study From Athens to
Jerusalem: The Love of Wisdom and the Love of God, Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1984. See esp. p. 79: 'Tertullian's mocking question, "What business
has Jerusalem with Athens?" is the thought from which I began ...'. Thorlief
Roman's attempt to distinguish Hebraism from Hellenism, Hebrew Thought
Compared with Greek, London: SCM Press, 1960, was rightly severely
criticized by James Barr in The Semantics of Biblical Language, London:
OUP, 1961.
3. See The Anxiety of Influence, New York: OUP, 1973.
4. See Kabbalah and Criticism, New York: Seabury Press, 1975; The
Breaking of the Vessels, Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press,
1982.
5. Susan A. Handelman, The Slayers of Moses: The Emergence of
Rabbinic Interpretation in Modern Literary Theory, New York: SUNY Press,
1982.
6. Jose Faur, Golden Doves with Silver Dots: Semiotics and Textuality in
Rabbinic Tradition, Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1986.
7. Faur, Golden Doves, p. xxix.
8. Faur, Golden Doves, p. xviii.
9. I attempted at some length to define midrash in my unpublished
Speaker's Lectures, Oxford 1986-88, on 'Midrash and the New Testament:
The Use of the Bible in the Early Synagogue and in the Primitive Church'.
For preliminary statements of my views see 'Midrash and the Gospels' in
C.M. Tuckett (ed.), Synoptic Studies, Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984, pp. 1-18;
'Jewish Aramaic Translations' in M.J. Mulder (ed.), Mikra (Compendia
Rerum ludaicarum ad Novum Testamentum ////), Maastricht: Van Gorcum,
1988, pp. 225-41; 'Retelling the Old Testament'in D.A. Carson and H.G.M.
Williamson (eds.), It is Written: Scripture Citing Scripture, Essays in Honour
of Barnabas Lindars, Cambridge: CUP, 1988, pp. 99-121. It is a pleasure to
note that Geza Vermes's pioneering study Scripture and Tradition in
Judaism, Leiden: Brill, 1961; 1973, has deservedly become a classic
definition of midrash.
10. T. Sanhedrin 7.11 (ed. Zuckermandel, p. 427); ARM Recension A,37
(ed. Schechter, p. 110); Sifra, Introduction (ed. Friedmann, p. 27); Mishnat
Rabbi Eliezer I-II (ed. Enelow, pp. 10-41); Midrash ha-Gadol, Bereshit,
Introduction (ed. Margaliot, pp. 22-40). Further, P.S. Alexander, 'The
Rabbinic Hermeneutical Rules and the Problem of the Definition of
Midrash', Proceedings of the Irish Biblical Association 8 (1984), pp. 97-125.
11. On the early Homeric scholia see R. Pfeiffer, History of Classical
Scholarship: From the Beginnings to the End of the Hellenistic Age, Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1968; E.G. Turner, Greek Papyri: An Introduction, Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1968, pp. 100-24; P.M. Eraser, Ptolemaic Alexandria,
Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1972, Vol. I, pp. 447-79; Vol. II, pp. 647-92.
12. F. Schulz, History of Roman Legal Science, Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1946, pp. 183f.
13. S. Lieberman, Hellenism in Jewish Palestine, 2nd edn, New York:
Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1962, p. 47; Yevanit ve-Yavnut be-
Ere? Yisrael, Jerusalem: Bialik Institute, 1962, p. 185. Lieberman's work is
fundamental to our subject, but needs to be set in a broader context.
14. Turner, Greek Papyri, pp. 118f.
15. De grammaticis, qui evarcrcucoi et XUTIKOI dicti sunt, in his De
Aristarchi Studiis Homericis,3rd edn,Leipzig: S. Hirzel, 1882, pp. 197-221.
16. Further, Lieberman, Hellenism, pp. 47ff.; Yavnut, pp. 198ff.
17. For the equivalence of daraS and ^reca see, e.g., Deut. 4.29 in the
Hebrew and in the LXX.
18. Xenophanes Frag. 11 in H. Diels and W. Kranz, Die Fragmente der
Vorsokratiker, Berlin and Zurich: Weidmannsche Verlagsbuchhandlung,
1964, Vol. I, p. 11.
19. Diels-Kranz, Vorsokratiker 59 A 1 and 61 A 2.
20. Schulz, Legal Science, p. 184.
21. I follow the standard accounts of Roman jurisprudence, notably
Schulz's classic monograph, History of Roman Legal Science. Clear and
useful is A. Watson, Law Making in the Later Roman Republic, Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1974. Quotations from the Digest are taken from The
Digest of Justinian, Latin text edited by Th. Mommsen, with the aid of P.
Krueger; English translation edited by A. Watson, Vols. 1-4, Philadelphia:
University of Pennsylvania Press, 1985.
22. A. Berger, Encyclopedic Dictionary of Roman Law, Philadelphia:
American Philosophical Society, 1953, p. 513.
23. The remains may be found in O. Lenel, Palingenesia luris Civilis, vol.
2, Graz: Akademische Druck- u. Verlagsanstalt, 1889; reprinted with
Supplement, 1960.
24. Schulz, Legal Science, pp. 197f.
25. The content of the law from the XII Tables may be deduced from
Cicero, Pro M. Tullio 21.50. See further S. Riccobono, Fontes luris Romani
Antejustiniani: /. Leges, Florence: S.A.G. Barbera, 1941, p. 58.
26. The quotation is from Anabasis 5.2.14. Gaius possibly quotes the text
from memory. Marchant's edition in the Oxford Classical Texts reads: KCU
TCI 3eAt] 6|ioO eêpeto, A0yxai> ^cdjeuuaca, a(>ev56vai, nAeiaroi S K TCOV
xeipoiv XiOoi.
27. Lenel, Palingenesia luris Civilis, I, p. 243.
28. This may be paraphrased as follows: 'When a specific term is followed
by a general term the general adds to the specific and we include everything
[contained in the general]'. This is the fifth of the so-called Thirteen

Principles of Rabbi Ishmael. See further note 10 above.
29. For a comprehensive account of Graeco-Roman rhetoric see J. Martin,
Antike Rhetorik: Technik und Methode, Munich: C.H. Beck'sche
Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1974.
30. See, e.g., D. Daube, 'Rabbinic Methods of Interpretation and Hellenistic
Rhetoric', HUCA 22 (1949), pp. 239-65. Further bibliography in Alexander,
'Rabbinic Hermeneutical Rules', p. 116 note 2.
31. Further, Alexander, 'Rabbinic Hermeneutical Rules', p. 119 note 16.
32. Hermogenes, De Inv. III.5 (ed. Rabe, p. 140): euptoKeTCu toivuv ndv
33. Hermogenes, De Inv. 111.7 (ed. Rabe p. 148). Hermogenes concedes

that it will not always be possible to elaborate every argument in all six ways:
34. ARN, Recension A,37 (ed. Schechter, p. 110). Further, Alexander,

'Rabbinic Hermeneutical Rules', pp. 99ff.
35. Alexander, 'Rabbinic Hermeneutical Rules', pp. 114f.
36. Lieberman, Hellenism, pp. 70-76; Yavnut, pp. 202-12.
37. Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams, trans. J. Strachey, The
Pelican Freud Library, vol. 4, Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin Books,
1986, pp. 170ff.
38. Ed. R.A. Pack in the Teubner series (Leipzig, 1963). I follow the
translation of R.J. White, The Interpretation of Dreams: Oneirocritica by
Artemidorus, Park Ridge, NJ: Noyes Press, 1975.
39. This highly important text has not received the attention it deserves.
The most extensive treatment is still A. Kristianpoller, 'Traum und
Traumdeutung im Talmud', Monumenta Talmudica, IV, 2/1, Vienna and
Berlin: Benjamin Harz Verlag, 1923. But Kristianpoller totally ignores the
literary problems of the 'dreambook' which provide the key to its interpretation.
H. Lewy, 'Zu dem Traumbuche des Artemidoros', Rheinisches Museum fur
Philologie, NF 48 (1893), pp. 398-419, notes some of the detailed parallels
between Artemidorus and the Talmud.
40. The version of the pericope in the Jerusalem Talmud rather more
satisfactorily resolves 'Cappadocia' into Greek Kdnna = 'twenty' and 8oKO<;
= 'a beam'.
41. See Mishnat Rabbi Eliezer I-II (ed. Enelow, pp. 10-41), where
examples are given. Further, Alexander, 'Rabbinic Hermeneutical Rules',

pp. 102f.
42. There is little that is distinctively Greek about the oneirocritica of
Artemidorus. Much of it can be paralleled in early Babylonian dream-
interpretation. We are dealing here with a phenomenon common to the
whole of the ancient Near East. See A.L. Oppenheim, The Interpretation of
Dreams in the Ancient Near East, Philadelphia, 1956.
43. Lieberman, Hellenism, pp. 47ff.
44. Schulz, Legal Science, pp. 278ff., has some useful remarks on 'classicism'
in later Roman jurisprudence.
45. See further L.C.A. Alexander, 'The Living Voice: Scepticism Towards
the Written Word in Early Christian and in Graeco-Roman Texts', in D.J.A.
Clines, S.E. Fowl, and S.E. Porter (eds.), The Bible in Three Dimensions.
Essays in Celebration of Forty Years of Biblical Studies in the University of
Sheffield (JSOT Supplements, 87), Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1990, pp. 221-47.
The same author provides a new typology of schools in the Graeco-Roman
world in her forthcoming article on 'Schools, Hellenistic', for the new
Anchor Bible Dictionary.
INTRODUCING THE AKEDAH:
A COMPARISON OF TWO MIDRASHIC PRE ENTATIONS
Lewis M. Earth
Hebrew Union College, Los Angeles
This Festschrift provides an opportunity to express appreciation for

the significant contribution of Professor Geza Vermes to the
historical and comparative study of Midrash and Aggadah; it is also
an occasion to offer thanks for his generosity in sharing his immense
knowledge, kindness and hospitality during several visits I made to
Oxford. His volume Scripture and Tradition in Judaism remains a
classic collection of scholarly studies in the Aggadah. In particular,
the analysis and conclusions found in 'Redemption and Genesis
xxiiThe Binding of Isaac and the Sacrifice of Jesus' (pp. 193-227)
stimulated the production of several books and articles;1 it deals with
the early history of the topic to be presented here.
The present study is based on a comparison of the opening
passages from two midrashic presentations of the Akedah: (1) Trial
Ten of the 'Homily for the Second Day of Rosh HaShanah' found in
Cambridge Add. 1497 [ff. 58r,2-60v,10] and Oxford MS Opp.Add.
4.79 [12v-18v],2 and (2) Pirke deRabbi Eliezer 31.3 The Homily and
PRE are the only compositions, as far as I know, which contain
complete versions of the Ten Trials of Abraham.4 Both compositions
are 'late', probably eighth century, and stand at the end of a long
development of the interpretation of the Akedah in Rabbinic texts.
The comparison is designed to respond to the following questions:
1. How much and what material is shared by both the Homily
and PRE, and how much and what material is unique to
each collection?
2. What information can be derived from an analysis of the
common and differing sources of the introductory material
in two versions for an understanding of the authors' literary

treatment of the Akedah as a whole?
3. To what extent is the choice and treatment of this material
influenced by: (a) formal and/or generic considerations
(narrative vs. exegesis); (b) the authors' 'intention'; (c) the
literary contexts in which the material is found?
It is not possible to prove which of these two presentations of the
Akedah is earlier, or the extent of influence of one text upon the
other. To the extent that it is meaningful or feasible to talk of authors
and their intentions, these seem to be primary in the two treatments
of the Akedah. Formal or generic considerations are significant, but
didactic considerationsthe authors' concept and messageare the
controlling factor in the utilization of traditional material.
I
How much parallel Akedah material is found in the HomilyandPRE
in their preaching on or retelling the entire Akedah, and how much
material is unique to each collection? The text of Trial Ten in the
Homily is roughly twice the length ofPRE, approximately one-third
of the material in the Homily is paralleled by material in PRE:, that
material comprises approximately two-thirds of the Tenth Trial in
PRE. I-III in the Appendix give the locations of parallels between the
two compositions, and material which is distinct to each.
II
Both the Homily and PRE open with the trial number, followed by
a brief identification of Trial Ten. In the Homily (58r.2-3) the trial is
identified by the narrator's description:
THE TENTH TRIAL: When he tested him (3) with the binding of
his son.
PRE 31 identifies the trial merely by citating the biblical verse, Gen.
22.1:
THE TENTH TRIAL: 'And it came to pass after these things, that
God tested Abraham' (Gen. 22.1).
In the brief sections which follow, each work attempts to deal with
the underlying issue of the trial, but the treatments reflect significantly
different understandings of the Akedah. Following the identification
EARTH Introducing the Akedah 127
of the trial, the anonymous preacher of the Homily engages his

audience with the question:
But if you ask, 'why was it necessary to test him since the Holy One
Blessed Be He "probes the mind and searches the conscience" (cf.
Ps. 7.10 etc.), before Him what will be in (4) Abraham's heart?'...
[58r.3-4]
Syntactically the question leaves us hanging; we expect any of the
several modes of response which typically follow a sentence
introduced with zu'im tomar. What follows in lines 58r.4-20 instead is
an extended composite answer, but not to this question. Although
most of the material found here is known from other sources, none of
it appears in PRE.5
A.I When the Holy One Blessed Be He Created Adam, the
Ministering Angels presented opposing arguments before
Him saying, 'Master of the Universe, "what is man that
You have been mindful of him, (mortal man that You
have taken note of him?)" (Ps. 8.5)'.6
(5) What did the Holy One Blessed Be He do? He placed
his little finger among them and burned them up!
When Adam came to sin, He saw that He gave them (6) a
pretext (i.e. to the Ministering Angels to say, 'we warned
You!'), and He said nothing to them. Similarly, when
Cain killed Abel, He said nothing to them. So also
regarding the generation of the flood, (7) and again
regarding the generation of the Division (of languages at
the Tower of Babel), [and again regarding the people of
Sodom, until Abraham our father came along] and
received all their reward. Then the Holy One Blessed Be
He recounted his praise to the Ministering Angels and
said to them, 'have you seen (8) how Abraham declares
My unity in the world? Had I listened to you when you
said in My presence, "what is man that You have been
mindful of him, (mortal man that You have taken note of
him?)" (Ps. 8.5), would not (9) the world already be
lost?'
A.2 And, in addition, the Holy One Blessed Be He consulted
with him about the people of Sodom regarding everything,
as it is said, 'Now the Lord had said, "Shall I hide (10)
from Abraham (what I am about to do?)"' (Gen.
18.17).
The Ministering Angels said, 'Look, we serve in His
presence but He doesn't consult with us! Yet this one who
is a worm and a maggot, what did He have in mind (11)
to consult with Him? If it is because He tested him with

trials, yet He tested him only regarding his money, for
had he tested him in his person he would not be able (12)
to endure. And if it is because He tested him with
circumcision, look, the Holy One Blessed Be He saved his
entire body from fire. (As far as he is concerned),
wouldn't he listen to Him for one limb?!'
(13) The Holy Spirit responded and said to them, 'you
owe him a debt of gratitude. Because of Abraham both I
and you have a place to dwell in the world.'
A.3 But (14) the Ministering Angels [continued] presenting
arguments, saying, 'if so, from now on we'll forsake Your
Glory and Your Kingdom and Your Cult and give praise
to Abraham'.
(15) The Holy One Blessed Be He said to them, 'whoever
praises Abraham and glorifies him, it is as if he glorified
Me and praised Me, as it is said, "For I honor those who
honor Me" (1 Sam. 2.30)'.
And therefore (16) it is written, 'After these words God
put Abraham to the test' (Gen. 22.1).
A.4 Meaning: after Satan's words. [Since it was written thus],
'The child grew up and was weaned, [and Abraham held
a great feast on the day that Isaac was weaned]' (Gen.
21.8).
Satan said to the Holy One Blessed Be He, (17) 'Master
of the Universe, this old man, You [graciously granted]
him a son when he was one hundred years old, and You
gave him "issue of the womb" after his old age. But from
the entire feast he gave for his son and for the kings (18)
didn't he have even one turtledove or young bird or fowl
to offer as sacrifice to You! Look, Scripture says, "and
Abraham held (a great feast on the day that Isaac was
weaned)"' (Gen. 21.8).
The Holy One Blessed Be He said to them (!), 'Did he do
this only for his son? If I say to him now, "Sacrifice [your
son] before Me", he would sacrifice him on the spot'.
He said, Test him and let's see whether this is so (20) or
not'.
Immediately, 'After these words (God put Abraham to
the test)' (Gen. 22.1).
A.5 And he answered, "Here I am" (Gen. 22.1). (I'm ready)
for whatever you want.
Lines 58r.4-20 respond to an unstated question which has a long
history in rabbinic exegesis and which, at first glance, appears to be
so powerful that it controls the introduction to the Akedah in the

Homily: the traditional interpretation of wayyfhi 'ahar haddebdnm
hd'eleh, 'after these words'.7 What were the words and who were the
speakers which the Akedah follows? A close examination of this
section will help determine (1) why the anonymous preacher utilized
the specific rabbinic materials he chose, (2) how he utilized them, (3)
the topic he chose and (4) how he developed this topic in the
Homily's treatment of the Akedah.
The following represents a brief outline of this material based on
identifiable individual units of interpretation. The units are described
according to (1) literary form, (2) topic, theme or content and (3)
primary purpose of the passage. The first large unit, 58r.4-16,
numbered A.I. (58r.4-9), A.2 (58r.9-13), and A.3 (58r.l3-16),
although composed of discrete parts, comprises a coherent section as
a whole.8 Section A.4 (58r.l6-20 beginning) is a separate unit.9
The literary form of A.l-3. is an aggadic narrative frame in which
are contained dialogues, monologues and speeches of or between
God and the Angels. Biblical verses serve as constituent elements of
these forms of speech, or are used as prooftexts or provide an
exegetical stimulus for the unfolding narrative. Gen. 22.1, implicitly
the basis for the entire section, is cited only at the end of it, line 16, as
the object toward which the narrative argument has been moving.
Regarding content, in A.I, the angels conspire to prevent the
creation of Adam (humanity);10 in A.2, the angels are jealous of
God's relationship with Abraham as exemplified in the Sodom
incident;11 and in A.3, the angels conspire against Abraham by
threatening to worship him instead of God.12 In each case God
verbally chastises the angels and lauds Abraham.
Two conclusions emerge from an examination of the surface use of
these sections in the Homily. First, sections A.l-3 do not justify the
Akedah. Section A.I makes no reference to it; section A.2 does refer
to trialsthe angels argue that Abraham owed God at least
circumcision (Trial Eight) for having been saved from the fire (Trial
One/Two). Second, although sections A.l-3 do not respond to the
opening questionwhy an omniscient God needed to test Abraham
and appear to be present only by force of tradition, they represent the
conscious introduction of the central topic of the Homily'streatment
of the Akedah: sibho set 'Abraham, praise of Abraham.
Several details indicate the author's attempt to exploit his
material, either received or original, in relation to this topic.
Abraham's life and activity take on cosmic significance, linked to
creation and the continued existence of the universe. Most significant

in this regard are the responses of God or the Holy Spirit to the
Angels praising Abraham. Abraham is honored for having proclaimed
God's unity in the world. Had God listened to the Angels, the world
would have perished. Because of Abraham, there is a place for God
and the Angels in the world. Whoever honors Abraham honors
God.13
In contrast to A.l-3, section A.4 (58r.l6-20), quoting b. Sank. 89b,
provides justification for the trial and locates it contextually in a
narrative and theological frame. On the surface, then, A.4 is
necessary for the unfolding 'argument', broadly conceived. After a
brief narrative line which suggests that the Akedah follows on the
words of Satan and links Gen. 22.1 and 21.8, we are treated to those
words in the form of a dialogue between Satan and God. Satan
makes the accusation that Abraham is ungrateful to God for the gift
of a son. The passage ends with Gen. 22. la, making clear the pretext
for God testing Abraham.14
That Satan should trap God into the test also does not directly
respond to the original question. The question presumes God's
knowledge of Abraham's mind, gratitude and faithfulness. This is
clearly borne out by the fact that section A.4 is followed in A.5 by the
citation of Gen. 22. Ib and the brief midrashic explanation indicating
Abraham's positive response to any request which God might make:
'And he answered, "Here I am (Gen. 22.1b). (I'm ready) for
whatever you want"'. It is significant that this exegeti'cal comment is
lacking both in b. Sank. 89b and in the Oxford MS which follows the
version of the Bavli here more closely than the Cambridge MS. Thus
the words placed in Abraham's mouth appear to be a conscious
insertion of the anonymous preacher. This is. followed by a further
citation from b. Sank. 89b, an additional justification of the trial
which will be discussed below. If A.4 is indeed to be considered the
proximate argument which preceded and forced this last trial of
Abraham, it would serve primarily to further emphasize the 'praise
of Abraham' topic already introduced.
A final note regarding the traditional exegesis of Gen. 22.1: neither
the Homily nor PRE cites as the referent for the 'words' the argument
between Ishmael and Isaac, which is found in many sources,
especially Targum Jonathan, a document closely related to PRE.
Why? Because, as will be demonstrated, this argument has no
significant connection to the conception of the Akedah in either
composition.
The Homily's original question thus far frames the narrative but
does not control it. Where then does the original question come from
and where is it answered? In all likelihood the source for both the
question and answer surfaces later in the Homily's treatment of the
Akedah, in 60r. 18-24, an expanded exegesis of Gen. 22.16b; this
section also does not appear in PRE.15 The original question appears
here, but in the form of a declarative sentence placed in Abraham's
mouth as he protests to God for having been tested in the first place.
This section is introduced with a brief exegesis:
(60r.l8 end) 'Because you have done (this) etc.' (Gen. 22.16).
What is 'this?
(19) For He said to him, '(and have not withheld) your son, your
favored one' (Gen. 22.16, playing on v. 2).
A dialogue then follows:
Abraham spoke in this manner to the Holy One Blessed Be He,
'Master of the Universe, if a person tests another person, he doesn't
know (20) what's in his mind. But You know what is in the minds
of human beings, "probing the mind and searching the conscience"
(cf. Ps. 7.10; etc.). And YouGod of all fleshis (21) anything too
wondrous for You (cf. Jer. 32.17)? Then why did you test me so
much, and why was it not revealed to You that I would
immediately slaughter him and would not hold back (22) even one
moment?'
The Holy One Blessed Be He said to him, 'It was revealed before
Me that even your life, if I had asked you to sacrifice it, you would
not have held (23) it back from Me even a moment. But I asked you
now (in order) to make known to everyone who comes (in)to the
world that not for naught did I choose you from all the nations (24)
which I had made. (It was) in order to make known to them your
propriety and your goodness.'
Just as we found in the introductory question, the phrase 'probing
the mind and searching the conscience' (cf. Ps. 7.10; etc.) appears
again. And just as we inferred the topic sibho sel 'Abraham^ 'praise
of Abraham', from the introductory Aggadot, so also is this passage
designed to emphasize Abraham's qualities of loyalty and faith. The
original question assumed that the reason for the trial must be other
than God's desire to know Abraham's mind, since that is easily
within God's grasp. God's response contains two answers: the first,
'to make know that not for naught did I choose you from all the
nations',16 and the second, 'in order to make known to them your
propriety and your goodness', a phrase unique to the Homily and

found only in the Cambridge manuscript.17
Ill
The narrator in PRE approaches the retelling of the Akedah as if he
were arguing with the Homily and denying the validity of its opening
question:
He kept on testing Abraham every time (in order) to know his
mind, whether he would be able to persevere and keep all the
commandments of the Torah or not [Friedlander's MS adds here:
and whilst as yet the Torah had not been given, Abraham kept all
the precepts of the Torah], as it is said, 'inasmuch as Abraham
obeyed My voice, and kept My charge: My commandments, My
laws, and My Torah' (Gen. 26.5).
PRE does not assume that God, in fact, knows Abraham's mind
without testing him. Further, and this appears to me to be a separate
matter, PRE does not assume that God knows whether Abraham has
the ability to persevere and keep the commandments of the Torah.18
Finally, this passage communicates a detail of some importance in
understanding PRE*s general conception of Trial Ten. Hie narrator
appears to believe that all the tests, not merely the Akedah, were
designed so that God would discover both Abraham's mind and his
capacity to follow-through. Consequently, the narrator makes no
distinction between the Akedah and the previous tests; it is simply
last in a series.
This view of Trial Ten explains why PRE does not include the
following comment found in the Homily, 58r.20-23, from b. Sank.
89a,19 which does presume a distinction between the Akedah and the
previous tests:
And He said, 'Take (qati-na'} your son' (Gen. 22.2).
(21) Resh Lakish said, 'the expression na' means "please".
Meaning: the Holy One Blessed Be He said to Abraham, 'Look, I
tested you many times and you endured all of them, (22) now
please, (I ask) of you, stand fast for Me through this trial so that
creatures might not say that as far as the first trials are concerned,
there was no (23) reality to them'.20
This section is included in the Homily not merely because it is found
in b. Sank. 89b following the section quoted above as A.4. Its
function here is to re-emphasize the importance of Trial Ten in
comparison to the previous trials.21
IV
From the above comparisons, it is now possible to relate the opening
passages of the Akedah in the Homily and PRE to the larger
conception of the Ten Trials of Abraham in these two compositions.
The Akedah materials collected and shaped by the author of the
Homily cohere nicely with the opening petihta' of the sermon.
(54r.5) Lection for the second day, 'Sometime afterward, God put
Abraham to the test' (Gen. 22.1).
This is what Scripture says: 'Let me sing for my beloved a song (6)
of my lover about his vineyard, etc.' (Isa. 5.1)meaning, this is the
song which the Holy One Blessed Be He sang about Abraham our
Father, 'a song of my lover about his vineyard'.
And concerning Abraham it is said, (7) 'Why should My beloved be
in My House' (Jer. 11.15).
Just as it is in the nature of a vineyard, if it does not have ten
properly planted vines it is not called a vineyard, so (8) from the
day when the Holy One Blessed Be He created His world, the
world was not worth anything to Him until Abraham our Father
came and was tested (9) with ten trials. And these are as follows:
In \hispetihtd' it is argued that prior to Abraham's being tested with
ten trials the world was worth nothing to God. The thesis of the
Homily is that Abraham's life and the trials he endured are essential
to the value of the world in God's eyes, that without Abraham the
world itself would have perished and no place found in it for God and
the Angels. This thesis emphasizes the strong connection between
God and Abraham. It assumes that Abraham stands for Israel. It
explains why the Akedah is the most important of the trials.
In contrast to the Homily, the basis ofPRE's attempt to justify the
trial is an obvious divine doubt about Abraham. Presumably that is
why PRE does not view the Akedah as unique, qualitatively different
from the other trials.22
How does this relate to the opening of the Ten Trials in PRE"? Not
at all. PRE merely echoes the opening line of m. Abot 5.3a, 'Our
father Abraham was tried with ten trials and he stood firm in them
all'.23
The reason that PRE has supplied the answer we find at the
beginning of Trial Ten is the quote from Gen. 26.5: 'inasmuch as
Abraham obeyed My voice, and kept My charge: My commandments,
My laws, and My Torah'. This verse appears in the biblical narrative
considerably after the Akedah. PRE reads the verse back into
Abraham's life and trials, as if all the trials demonstrated this result.
Scripture has provided the answer, there is no reason to question
specifically why Trial Ten occurs! Several scholars have noted that
the author of PRE is retelling a story primarily by summarizing
midrashic tradition in narrative form, and linking it with the biblical
text.24 In contrast to the 'preacher' of the Homily, he is no longer
probing the difficulties explicit or implicit in the scriptural account.
Between these two activities there is all the difference in the
world.25
APPENDIX:
COMPARISON OF TRIAL TEN IN THE HOMILY AND PRE
I. Parallel Passages
Homily PRE
Trial No. Trial No.
Gen. 22.2
58r.23-25 69b.3-10
Friedlander 223-24
Horowitz 105,9-17
58v.2-3 69b.lO-70a.4
Fr. 224
Hor. 105.17-23
Gen. 22.3
58v.l5-20 70a.4-12
Fr. 224-25
Hor. 105.23-34
58v.20-24 70a.l3-20
Fr. 225
Hor. 105.36-46
Gen. 22.5
59r.ll-22 (note both MSS!) 70a.20-70b.6
Fr. 225-26
Hor. 105.46-62
Gen. 22.5, 7
59r.24 (see: Ox.2)-59v.4 70b.66-ll
Fr. 226
Hor. 105.63-106.1
Gen. 22.9
59v.lO-15 70b.ll-17
Fr. 226-227
Hor. 106.1-8
Gen. 22.13
60r.3-7 71v.lO-17
Fr. 228-229
Hor. 106.40-48
Gen. 22.17
60r.25-60v.l 71v.l7-21
Fr. 229
Hor. 106.49-54
II. Sections in Homily which have no parallel in PRE (including

opening question or organizing biblical verses
Opening question Gen. 22.9
58r.2-3 59v.9-10
Gen. 22.1 Gen. 22.10-11
58r.4-20 59v.l5-16
Gen. 22.2 Gen. 22.12
58r.20-23 59v.l6-23
58r.25-26 Gen. 22.13
58r.26-58v,l 59v.23-60r.3
58v.3-15 60r.7-ll
Gen. 22.3 Gen. 22.14
58v.24-59r.6 60r.ll-12
Gen. 22.4 Gen. 22.16
59r.6-ll 60r.l2-24
Gen. 22.5 Gen. 22.17
59r.22-24 60r.24-25
Gen. 22.7 60v.l-3
59v.4-6 Gen. 22.16(20, 21, 1)
Gen. 22.8 60v.3-10
59v.6-9
III. Sections in PRE 31 which have no parallel in Homily
PRE Horowitz Friedlander

69a.l2-69b,2 105.1-7 223
69b.2-3 105.7-9 223
70a.l2-14 105.34-36 225
70b.17-71b.10 106.9-40 227-28
71b.21-72a.13 106.55-70 229-30
NOTES
1. See bibliography cited in the notes to Robert Hayward, 'The Present

State of Research into the Targumic Account of the Sacrifice of Isaac', JJS
32 (1981), pp. 127-50.
2. Lewis M. Earth, 'Lection for the Second Day of Rosh Hashanah: a
Homily Containing the Legend of the Ten Trials of Abraham', HUCA 58
(1987), Hebrew Section, pp. 1-48; Trial Ten begins p. 30, f. 58r.2.
3. References to Pirke deRabbi Eliezer (PRE) are to (1) Pirke Rabbi
Eliezer HaGadol, with the commentary of David Luria, photo-offset, New
York, 1946, cited by folio; (2) Fr. = Pirke De Rabbi Eliezer, trans. Gerald
Friedlander, London, 1916; (3) Hor. = Pirke De Rabbi Eliezer: Critical
Edition, Codex C.M. Horowitz, Jerusalem, 1972.
4. For references to the tradition that Abraham endured Ten Trials, see
Earth, art. cit., pp. 1-4, and Chart and Sources, pp. 47-48.
5. For a more extensive listing of sources for Trial Ten in the Homily, see
Earth, pp. 9-10 and footnotes which follow here.
6. The following signs are used within the translation: [ ] indicates a
reading from the Oxford MS, () indicates completion of a biblical verse or
addition to text for sake of continuity or clarity.
7. Also, 'actions', 'scenes' or 'events'. The Homily's unstated question is
specificlly mentioned in three sources which it utilized: (1) b. Sank. 89b:
('afyar ma'i)? (2) Gen. R. 55.4 (Theodor-Albeck [T-A] p. 587,4, and note):
hirhurei debdrim hdyu sdm, mi hirher? (3) Tan. Wayera' 18: umah debdrim
hayCi Sam? See also Tan. Wayera' 42, and Yaakov Elbaum, 'From Sermon to
Story: The Transformation of the Akedah', Prooftexts 6.2 (May, 1986), p. 100
and p. Ill, note 9.
8. This larger passage, with some modification and a somewhat different
ending, is cited in BerRbti = Midrash Bereshit Rabbati, ed. Ch. Albeck
(Jerusalem, 1940), pp. 85-86.
9. This passage (as well as lines 20 end-24, a comment on Gen. 22.2), is
based primarily on b. Sank. 89a. As Professor Vermes noted, Scripture,
p. 200, the motif of the angel's jealousy of Abraham as the cause of the
Akedah is already attested in the first-century work, Pseudo-Philo 32.2-4.
10. The origin of this argument between God and the Ministering Angels
requires analysis. Do the Ministering Angels object to the creation of the
world or of Adam? When is the link made between the opposition of the
Angels to the creation of the world or Adam and God's response justifying
creation because of Abraham? There seems to be a confluence of several
separate traditions here. B. Sank. 38b refers to creation of Adam, and is the
source for the statement, 58r.5, that when the Angels objected, God placed
His little finger among them and burned them up. See also Gen. R. 8.6 (T-A,
p. 61.1-5), on Gen. 1.26, linked to the interpretation of Ps. 8.5-10; also Gen.
R. 31.12 (T-A, p. 285,7). The citation of Ps. 8.5 is found in all parallels, no
matter how they conclude the passage. For the source of the phrase qosrin
qatigor in the Homily', see t. Sola 6.5 (Lieberman, pp. 184-85; Tosefta Kif-
shufa, Nashim, p. 669). For a comparison of Gen. R. and Tan,, see Elbaum,
Transformation', pp. 100-102, and note 14; Shalom Spiegel, The Last Trial,
trans. Judah Goldin, New York, 1969, p. 117, note 148.
11. See BerRbti, p. 85; Yalq. Bereshit, pp. 433.18-434.21, note 18. Presumably
the source of this passage may now be identified as the Homily, or the source
from which the Homily took this passage.
12. BerRbti, p. 86.
13. The large unit, A.l-3, probably did not exist as a whole prior to its
utilization and thus creation by the anonymous preacher of the Homily. The
sub-sections represent both prior tradition and newly developed material
which the preacher combined to form the larger unit.
14. The development of this passage requires fuller examination. B. Sank.
89b opens with Satan's accusation against Abraham for his not offering God
a sacrifice on the occasion of Isaac's birth and God's response. The exegesis
continues with Gen. 22.2 and then returns to 22.1 with the argument
between Ishmael and Isaac. In Gen. R. 55.4 (T-A, p. 587,4) the opening
question is followed by (1) Abraham's thoughts on his not offering God a
sacrifice on the occasion of Isaac's birth and God's response, (2) the
Ministering Angels' thoughts on the same subject and God's response and (3)
the argument between Ishmael and Isaac. In Tan. Wayera 18, the question is
followed by (1) the argument between Ishmael and Isaac and (2) the
Ministering Angels' opposition to creation of the world [or Adam] and God's
response.
15. Note Albeck's reference to the connection of the original question with
Abraham's statement, BerRbti, p. 85, note 16, referring to this passage which
is cited there, p. 90. Albeck did not know of the existence of the Homily. See
p. 85, note 15.
16. Tan. Slatt 14; TanB Slah 27; Num. R. 17.2. This comment, in slightly
different form, appears in these sources in the context of a petihtff within a
petthta\ For exegetical basis, see Gen. R. 56.7 (T-A, p. 603).
17. Note: this passage ends on tubkd, 'yur goodness'. The next verse,
Gen. 22.17, is quoted immediately, ki-barek *barekeka.
18. An alternate view of RADAL would suggest, against my argument
here, that what I have indicated as two separate issues are in fact one. He
notes that the language ofPRE is based on Deut. 8.2b,'... that He might
test you by hardships to learn what was in your hearts: whether you would
keep His commandments or not'.
19. Attributed to Resh Lakish in the Homily, but to R. Simeon b. Abba in
the Talmud.
20. See b. Sank. 89b; Gen. R. 56.11 (T-A, p. 610,1-2).
21. Note that already in section A.2 of the Homily, previous trials are
mentioned in a context which suggest a more severe trial is about to take
place.
22. In fact, the author ofPRE may have conceived of Trial Three as the
most severe. Note the phrase, wehafilful qaSeh I'dddm mikol. See Friedlander,
p. 189 and note 5. Midrash Ha-Gadol, along with other texts, cites Gen. 12.1
as the First Trial, and utilizes the language of PRE. See MHG Bereshit,
pp. 215-16.
23. The first editions insert here: 'and it was foreseen by Him that his
children would be destined to tempt the Holy One Blessed Be He with ten
trials, and He anticipated the cure for their wound, and He tried him with
ten trials'. See Friedlander, p. 187, notes 1 and 2.
24. On literary aspects of PRE, Joseph Dan, The Hebrew Story in the
Middie Ages, Jerusalem, 1974, pp. 133-44; Elbaum, 'Transformation', p. 109.
On the literary qualities of late midrashim in general and the comparison
with homiletic literature, see Elbaum, 'Between Editing and Writing: On the
Character of Late Midrashic Literature' [Hebrew], Proceedings of the Ninth
World Congress of Jewish Studies, 3 (5746), pp. 57-62; Jonah Frankel, 'Major
Features of the Textual History of the Aggadic Narrative' [Hebrew],
Proceedings of the Seventh World Congress of Jewish Studies (Jerusalem,
1981), pp. 64-69; Jonah Frankel, 'Hermeneutic Questions in the Study of the
Aggadic Story' [Hebrew], Tarbiz 47 (5738), pp. 150ff.; Ofra Meir, 'The
Homiletical Narrative in Early and Late Midrash' [Hebrew], Sinai 86
(1980), pp. 246-66; Ofra Meir, 'The Story of the Illness of Hezekiah in
Rabbinic Aggadah' [Hebrew], Hasifrut 30-31 (April, 1981), pp. 109-30; Ch.
Milikowsky, 'Jacob's Punishmenta Study of the Editorial Techniques of
Midrash Tanhuma' [Hebrew], Bar-Han University Year Book 18-19 (1981),
pp. 144-49. On PRE, its dating and relation to Islam, see the literature cited
in Barth, p. 4, note 16.
25. A form of this paper was read at the Association of Jewish Studies
Conference, Boston, 1988. Appreciation for helpful comments and suggestions,
especially by David Halperin and Asher Finkel, is gratefully expressed.
THE TWO WAYS AND THE PALESTINIAN TARGUM
Sebastian Brock
Oriental Institute
(j>iAo<; nioroq CKETTTI Kpocaux,

6 8e eup(bv aurov etSpev GTjaaupov.
Discussion of the theme of the Two Ways has normally been focussed
on the well-known passage in the Didache (1.1) and the Letter of
Barnabas (18).1 Shortly after the publication of the Didache (1883) C.
Taylor drew attention to the parallels to the content of the teaching
in the Didache concerning the Two Ways which were to be found in
Rabbinic literature; Taylor indeed saw Didache 1-6 as 'possibly a
reproduction of some treatise on the "two ways", of life and of death,
which is much older than the Teaching in its entirety'.2 A number of
other scholars, writing in the first decade of this century, preferred to
see an oral, rather than a written, Jewish source.3 In the following
decades, however, largely thanks to the influence of a number of
articles by J. A. Robinson, the hypothesis of a Jewish source, oral or
written, for the Two Ways teaching in Didache and Barnabas came to
be dropped by all but a few scholars; instead, the author of the Letter
of Barnabas was seen to be the originator of the theme, and it was
from him that the author of the Didache took it over.4
It was the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls and the publication of
the Community Rule, or Manual of Discipline (1QS), with its
teaching on the two spirits, that brought about a return to the
hypothesis of a Jewish source.5 Ironically, in this document no
specific mention is ever actually made of 'the two ways', the way of
life and the way of death (as found in the Didache)', instead 1QS 3.20-
21 speaks of 'the ways of light' and 'the ways of darkness' (bdrky
'wr... wbdrky hwsk}. Not only does this phraseology introduce a
dualist element, totally absent from the Didache, but, by using the
plural, 'ways of light/darkness', it also lacks any idea of two ways.

Apart from this matter of the two ways, the parallels are somewhat
closer with Barnabas^ for there we have both the opposition of light
with darkness, and the idea of the angels of God/Satan in charge of
each way, corresponding to the roles of'the Prince of Light' and 'the
Angel of Darkness' in the Community Rule.6
In view of these closer links between 1QS and Barnabas it is
perhaps not surprising that several scholars7 have, at the same time
as reverting to the hypothesis of a Jewish source, also taken over the
view of Robinson8 and others that the Didache derived its teaching
on the two ways from Barnabas. According to this view, the concept
of the two ways was a 'Spiritualisierung des mythischen Stoffes'9
concerning the two spirits.
Other scholars, notably Audet in his monograph on the Didache
have preferred to see the Didache as drawing directly upon a Jewish
source, and quite independent of Barnabas (thus allowing the
Didache priority in date). This source lacked the dualist overtones of
1QS, the Doctrina Apostolorum and Barnabas.
It is a matter of considerable astonishment that in all the
secondary literature on the subject there appears to be no reference
to the fact that 'the way of life' and 'the way of death' have actually
been introduced at two places by the Palestinian Targum tradition
into Deuteronomy 30, a chapter whose importance for the background
of the two ways teaching had actually been adumbrated by a number
of older and more recent scholars. Thus Audet himself points out in
passing11 the relevance of Deut. 30.15-20, while K. Baltzer, in his Das
Bundesformular,12 deals with the covenantal significance of the Two
Ways, with special reference to Deut. 30.15ff.; finally, A. Orbe, in a
characteristically fascinating article entitled 'El dilema entre la vida
y la muerte (Exegesis prenicena de Deut. 30,15, 19)',13 actually
pinpoints the two verses where the Palestinian Targum introduces
'the way of life' and 'the way of death', without, however, being
aware of the testimony of this tradition (a consequence of his sole
reliance on Strack-Billerbeck for Jewish parallels).14
What, then, does the Palestinian Targum tradition have to offer at
Deut. 30.15 and 19?
(a) Deut. 30.15. MT: See, I have provided before you (sing.) this day
life and good, death and evil.
Neofiti (text): See that I have set out before you (pi.) this day the
BROCK The Two Ways and the Palestinian Targum 141
order of life and the good, and the order of pestilence15 and their
opposites.
Neofiti (margin): See that I have set out before you this day the life
of the world to come and the blessing of the Garden of Eden, and the
death by which the wicked will die and the evil state of Gehinnom.
Fragment Targum (V): See, I have put before you (pi.) this day the
way of life, which is the good way, and the way of mortality (mituta)
which is the evil way.
Pseudo-Jonathan: See that I have set out before you this day the
way of life, by which the good reward for the just is fulfilled, and the
way of death by which the evil reward for the wicked is fulfilled.
(b) Deut. 30.19. MT: (I call heaven and earth to witness against you
this day), life and death have I provided before you (sing.), blessing
and curse; and you shall choose life, in order that you may live, (you
and your seed).
Neofiti:... the way of life and the way of mortality have I provided
for you, the blessing and the curses; and you shall choose the way of
life, in order that you may live...
Pseudo-Jonathan: Life and death have I set out before you,
blessing and its opposite; and you shall take delight in the way of life,
which is the Law, in order that you may live in the world to
come...
Before considering these passages in the Palestinian Targum any
further it is worth pointing to the remarkable fact that a quotation of
Deut. 30.15, in a form very similar to that on the Fragment
Targum,16 is also to be found in Greek dress, in three early Christian
writings:17
Clementine Homilies XVIII. 17.2. 686? 8e "f\ noArceia ecrciv t<p Kai
rov Mcouofjv Aeyeiv. 'I8ou TeGeuca npo npoocbnou oou rqv 686v rfj?
^cofj? Kai TT^V 686v rou Oavdrou. The ensuing words, Kai 6
8i8aaKaAo? au|i(t>a>vco<; elnev EiaeABeTe 8id rfj? atevfjs Kai
te9Xi|j|jevr|<; 68ou 61* f|? eiaeAEuaeaOe ei? ti]v Ccofjv, are based on
Matt. 7.14, a passage also alluded to in a sermon by Peter at Sidon,
again in the context of the two ways (Horn. VII. 7.1-2):... npourivua)
ufjiiv (b? oSou? 8uo,... f| (jev ouv icov dnoXXuiievwv 686? nAxrceia
jiev Kai OfjaAttrcarn,... f) 8e rcov acpôijevcov otevfi fjiev Kai rpaxsia,
o^Couaa 8e...
Origen, De Principiis III. 1.6 = Philocalia 21 (Origen here combines
elements from both v. 15 and v. 19).18 ... Kai Mwafj?- reOeiKa npo
npooomou oou tf]v 666v rfj<; Co>f)<; Kai rf|v 686v roO Oavatou (v. 15).
6KAât TO ctyaGov Kai nopeuou ev aur<> (cf. v. 19). Elsewhere
Origen quotes Deut. 30.15 in the standard Septuagint form.19
Apostolic Constitutions VII.1.1. i6ou 8e6o)Ka npo npoaamou Ujuicov
tf|v 656v Tfjs (,&f\<; Kai rf|v 656v toO Oavarou, (Kai em<j>epovro<;)
"EKAeâi tf)v cof|v i'va C>r\csr\q (vv. 15, 19). This is followed by
Elijah's words at 1 Kings 18.21, 'How long will you be lame on both
your hams (iyvuai<;)?',2() and Jesus' saying about serving two masters
(Matt. 6.24); then comes an adaptation of the opening words of
Didache 1, on the two ways.
The close similarity of these three independent Greek quotations
to the common core of the Fragment Targum and to Pseudo-
Jonathan^ once each of these is stripped of its supplements, is
remarkable, and can hardly be fortuitous; accordingly it would seem
justified to suppose that we have in them three separate new
witnesses to an earlier form of the Palestinian Targum tradition to
Deut. 30.15 than that preserved in FT and PsJ. In effect, this earlier
form has been created simply by fusing Deut. 30.15 with Jer. 21.8,
'Behold, I provide before you the way of life and the way of
death'.
While reOeiKa21 in the Clementine Homilies and in Origen
supports the Palestinian Targum's use of'set out' (sdryt, N, Psff2 or
'put' (swyt, FT) in place of MT's 'provide' (ntty\ it is the Apostolic
Constitutions which supports the Palestinian Targum's alteration of
the singular 'you' to a plural (in v. 15).
If we turn to midrashic literature, it is striking that the theme of
the two ways is introduced primarily in connection with the same
two verses of Deut. 30: thus Deuteronomy Rabbah 4.3 quotes Deut.
11.26 (whose wording is very close to Deut. 30.19) and then cites R.
Haggai: '(God said) And what is more, not only have I provided two
ways for you, but I have not dealt with you according to the strict
letter of the law, and I said to you, "Therefore choose life" (Deut.
30.19).'
The link with Deut. 30.15 and 19 also occurs in Sifre (Pisqa 53):
'Israel might say, Since God has provided before us two ways, the
way of life and the way of death (v. 15), we will follow whichever one
we want; therefore the verse says, Choose life' (v. 19). The two ways
are also associated with Deut. 30.15 in Pirqe deRabbi Eliezer 15:
'Behold, these two ways have I given to Israel, the one which is good
is of life, and the one which is evil is of death. The good way has two
byways, one of righteousness, the other of love,23 and Elijah... is
placed exactly between these two ways.'
In view of these close associations between the two ways theme
and Deut. 30 it is likely that T. Asher 1.3,5 also have Deut. 30.15 and
19 in mind,24 even though the recipients are humanity, and not just
Israel (for this extension, see further below): (3) 8uo 68ou<; e8(OKev 6
Although it is not my concern here to reexamine the theme of the

two ways in the Didache and Barnabas, a few brief observations may
be offered in the light of these recurrent links between the two ways
and Deut. 30.15 and 19.
The wording of the Didache (1.168oi 8e 8uo eioi, (iia Tfj<; (DTJ<; Kai
|iia TOU GavtiTou) is clearly closer to the Palestinian Targum
tradition in Deut. 30 than is that of Barnabas 18 (68oi 8uo eioi
8i8axfj<; Kai eouaia<;. fj re TOU <}>ayc6<; Kai f| TOU OKOTOUS). In view of
this it can hardly be doubted that those scholars who have seen Deut.
30 as the background to the opening of the Didache are correct. The
covenantal associations are in fact brought out in the Didache
immediately afterwards, with the exhortation to love God (cf. Deut.
30.20, 'loving the Lord your God...').
In Barnabas, on the other hand, the substitution of light and
darkness, and the reference to 'the light-bearing angels' and 'the
angel of Satan' set over the two ways, moves away from the biblical
basis of the imagery of the two ways and has links, though hardly
close ones, with the dualistic world view of 1QS.25 As we have them,
neither 1QS nor Barnabas (nor indeed the Doctrina Apostolorurri)
has any obvious link left with Deut. 30, yet, in the light of T. Levi
19.1 it seems likely that this was in fact again the original starting
point: T. Levi 19.1 reads.. eXeoGe ouv eauioi? (cf. Deut. 30.19) i\ TO
OKOTO<; f\ TO (jxJx;, TI voôv Kupiou f\ epya BeXidp. Here the verb
'choose', followed by the invocation of witnesses (v. 3), strongly
suggests that Deut. 30.19 is in the background.26
Thus, whereas the Didache harks back more or less directly to
Deut. 30.15-19, fused with Jer. 21.8 (as also witnessed in the
Palestinian Targum tradition), die Doctrina Apostolorum and Barnabas
do so only indirectly, by way of the intrusion of the non-biblical
moral opposition of light and dark, also to be found in 1QS.
The different witnesses to the Palestinian Targum tradition at Deut.

30.15,19 all introduce an eschatological element: the two roads lead
to life or death, the Garden of Eden, or Gehinnom, in the world to
come. This stands in sharp contrast to the (deliberately?) low-key
interpretation given to Deut. 30.19 inEccl. Kabbah 9.9, y. Sotah 9.15
and elsewhere, where the verse is seen as referring to the need to
learn a trade (since one's life may depend on it). An eschatological
interpretation attributed to Yohanan b. Zakkai, is, however, implied
at b. Berakhot 28b, where R. Yohanan says on his deathbed, 'When
there are two ways before me, one leading to Paradise and the other
to Gehinnom, and I do not know by which I shall be taken (sc. at
death), shall I not weep?' Here, comparison with Neofiti at Deut.
30.15 strongly suggests that R. Yohanan was understood to be
alluding to that verse.
The eschatological reference to the Garden of Eden in Neofiti has
obvious protological overtones as well, and it is not very surprising to
find 'the way of life' featuring in Pseudo-Jonathan's expanded version
of Gen. 3.24 (in the Hebrew the cherubim with the flaming sword
'guard the way to the Tree of Life'):27
He then drove Adam from the place where he had caused the glory
of the Shekhina to dwell, since the beginning, between the two
cherubim. Before creating the world he had created the Law,
prepared the Garden of Eden for the just so that they might eat and
enjoy the fruits of the Tree, seeing that they had laboured during
their lives in the study of the Law in this world and kept the
commandments. For the wicked he prepared Gehinnom which is
like a sharp sword devouring on both sides; he prepared in its midst
sparks of fire and burning coals whereby to judge the wicked who
rebel during their lives against the teaching of the Law. Better is
the Law for the person who cultivates it than the fruit of the Tree
of Life, for the Memra of the Lord has prepared it (sc. the Law) for
its keeping, so that the person who walks in the paths of the way of
life may continue to the world to come.28
The mention of'the way to the Tree of Life' in Gen. 3.24 probably
provides the stepping-stone for the wholesale transfer of Deut. 30.15,
19 from the scenario of the Lawgiving to that of the creation of
Adam, such as we find underlying the exegesis given to mimmennu
(Gen. 3.22),29 attributed to R. Aqiba in Gen. Rabbah 21.5: 'The Holy
One provided two ways before him (sc. Adam), and he chose the other
way'. This universalizing of the choice between the two ways of
Deut. 30.15 and 19, achieved by transferring the reference from

Israel to Adam/humanity, is already found in Philo, in his Quod Deus
sit immutabilis 50:30 'Hence one finds the following saying written in
Deuteronomy, Behold, I have provided before you life and death,
good and evil; choose life'(Deut. 30.15 and 19 fused together). Two
points are made here: on the one hand, humans are born having
knowledge of what is good and its opposite; and on the other, they
ought to choose (aipeioGai) the better in preference to the worse,
seeing that they possess within themselves reasoning (Xoyioiiov),
which, like an unbribable judge, agrees to what correct reason
suggests, but refuses what its opposite (proposes)'. Similarly Justin
Martyr,31 writing approximately a century later, specifically states
that Moses' words in Deut. 30.15 and 19 were addressed to the
protoplast (i(j) 7rpcot(p TrXaoOevu avOpcoiNp).
Failure on Adam's part to choose the way of hie thus led to the
closing of'the way to the Tree of Life' (Gen. 3.24), and his choice of
'the other way' led to the state of mortality.32 Whereas Jewish texts
such as Enoch 25 and the Palestinian Targumim have an eschatological
interest in Gen. 3.24, for early Christianity there were soteriological
overtones as well. This was largely the result of typological
considerations; the way to the Tree of Life, cut off by the sword of the
cherubim33 as a consequence of the wrong choice (or, in Christian
terms, disobedience or sin) of the First Adam, was seen as being
opened up again by the Second Adam (and more specifically, by the
lance which opened up the side of the Second Adam on the cross,
John 19.34),34 thus enabling Adam/humanity to have full access to
the Tree of Life, identified as Christ.
Jewish eschatological exegesis of Gen. 3.24 appears to have shown
no interest in any idea of the removal of the sword in order to open
up Paradise for the justwith one possible exception,35 T. Levi 18.10,
where 'the new priest' dvoiêi ttiq 9upa<; tou napaSeiaou xai crniaei
ifiv aneiAjoOaav po|i(|>aiav Kara TOU A8ti|j (whereupon he will give
to the holy ones to eat of the Tree of Life, v. 11). Although v. 10
has not been singled out as one of the Christian interpolations in this
chapter by Hultgard36 or (it appears) others, the concern here with
the sword sounds to my ears suspiciously Christian.
It is worth noting here, by way of parenthesis, that the theme of
the opening up of the way to the Tree of Life by the Second Adam
probably provided the basis for a phrase which is characteristic of
early Syriac Christian traditions, 'Christ has trod out for us the way
(dras 'wr/w)'; significantly in the earliest texts the phrase is regularly

associated with the way from death to life.37 Hesitantly one might
suggest that it was as a result of such Christian usurpation of some of
the phraseology of Gen. 3.24 that all mention of the way to the Tree
of Life is absent from the Palestinian Targum tradition (apart from
Pseudo-Jonathan)^despite its presence in the Hebrew text.
Summing up thus far, it would seem that there are sufficiently
strong grounds for supposing that the starting point for the theme of
the two ways lay in the combining of Jer. 21.8 with Deut. 30.15,19,
such as we find in the Greek quotations of Deut. 30.15 in the
Clementine Homilies (second century CE), Origen (first half of third
century) and the Apostolic Constitutions (late fourth century);38
various expanded forms of this occur in the Palestinian Targum
tradition. Possibly this stage is already implied in Philo, de
Plantatione 37.
Then, from this starting point we have the following developments:
(1) the concept of two ways: for this the earliest witness is probably
T. Asher (of disputed date), followed by the Didache (usually dated to
the late first century CE), the Doctrina Apostolorum and Barnabas:,
subsequently it appears in Genesis and Deuteronomy Rabbah, Sifre
and Pirqe deRabbi Eliezer. In all but the midrashic texts the starting
point (Deut. 30) is no longer explicit.39
(2) the opposing ways are described in dualistic terms of light and
dark, again without explicit reference to Deut. 30. This is first
attested in 1QS (late second, or first century BCE), where the idea of
only two ways is abandoned (whereas in early Christianity, in the
Doctrina Apostolorum and Barnabas, the original theme of two ways
is preserved).
(3) The theme is given eschatologjcal overtones (Palestinian Targum,
b. Ber. 28b).
(4) The words of Deut. 30.15, 19 are seen as addressed to Adam
(Philo; Justin; R. Aqiba apud Gen. R. 21.5).40
(5) The eschatological and protological references (i.e. (3) and (4))
may be combined and, in Christian authors, given a soteriological
dimension as well (possibly already,41 by implication, in Odes of
Solomon 17.9, and then prominently among early Syriac writings
from the Acts of Thomas onwards).
Given the nature of our evidence, it is not possible to attach any
absolute chronology to these developments, but provided it is
accepted that the ultimate source of the phraseology 'the ways of
light' and 'the ways of darkness' in 1QS lies ultimately in Deut. 30,
then we can assume that the linking of Jer. 21.8 with Deut. 30.15,19
must go back to at least the second century BCE.
Before drawing this brief exploration to a close, two observations
of a methodological nature are worth making.
First, it should have become apparent how motifs such as 'the
two ways' tend to be linked with specific biblical passages. Thus any
study of these motifs needs to keep the relevant biblical passages and
their exegetical history in mind, even when the motif is no longer
attached to them.
Secondly, close attention needs to be paid to the details of
wording.42 This means, in the context of the theme of the two ways,
that we need to distinguish between the following (the references do
not aim to be exhaustive):
(1) Overt mention of two ways

'two ways': T. Asher 1.3, 5; Didache 1; Doctrina Apostolorum 1;
Barnabas 18; Clementine Homilies 7.7.1; Gen. R. 21.5; Deut. R. 4.3;
Sifre 53; b. Ber. 28b; PRE 15; 2 Enoch 30.15; Or. Sib. 8.399.
the two ways identified as the way of life and the way of death:
Didache', Doctrina Apostolorum\ Rabbinic references', Or. Sib. (as
above).
the two ways identified as the way of light and the way of darkness:
Doctrina Apostolorum', Barnabas; 2 Enoch.^
the two ways identified as the way of good and the way of evil: T.
Asher.
the two ways identified as the broad and smooth way and the
narrow and rough way: Clementine Homilies.
(2) Two ways implied by inference

way of life and way of death: Jer. 21.8; Deut. 30.15 (FT, Ps}, Clem.
Horn., Origen, Apost. Const.}, Philo, de Plant. 37.
way of life and way of mortality: Deut. 30.15 (F7^); Deut. 30.19
(N).
way of good and way of evil: y. Ber. 12(13).3.
way of truth and way of falsehood: Ps. 119.29-30 (MT).
way of truth and way of iniquity: Ps. 118(119).29-30 (LXX).
way of virtue and way of wickedness: Philo, Vit. Mos 11.138; de
Plant. 37.
narrow way and broad way: T. Abraham 11.244 (cf. Matt. 7.13-
14).
(3) Plurality of ways

ways of light and ways of darkness: 1QS.
ways of truth and ways of iniquity: 1 Enoch 91.18 (Aram); 94.1
(Aram.); cf. Tob. 1.3 + 4.5.
ways of truth and ways of corruption: Odes Sol. 33.7-8.
ways of righteousness and ways of iniquity: 1 Enoch 91.18 (Eth.);
94.1 (Eth.).
By way of conclusion it is perhaps worth reflecting on why the

witness of the Palestinian Targum to 'the two ways' tradition has
been consistently neglected. The reason is not far to seek. At the
time when the Didache was first published (1883) the Palestinian
Targum (then represented only by the Fragment Targum and Pseudo-
Jonathan) was regarded as a late midrashic expansion of Onkelos,
and so was considered of little or no interest for the study of the
Jewish background to emergent Christianity. Consequently, even if
anyone had happened to notice the parallel with the Didache and the
Letter of Barnabas^ the Palestinian Targum would not have been
considered to be of sufficient interest to quote.
It was for precisely the same reasons that Strack and Billerbeck
paid no attention to the Targum in their extensivebut too
influential!collection Kommentar zum Neuen Testament aus Talmud
und Midrasch (1922-28).45 It was not until Kahle's publication of the
comparatively early fragments of Palestinian Targum manuscripts
from the Cairo Geniza in 193046 that greater attention came to be
paid to the Palestinian Targum, but by that date the hypothesis of a
Jewish source for the two ways teaching in the Didache and Barnabas
was no longer in fashion. Ironically, it was only with the discovery of
the Dead Sea Scrolls and the publication in 1950 of the Community
Rule (1QS)which never actually mentions the two ways, or the
way of life and the way of deaththat the idea of a Jewish
background to these early Christian documents came to be taken
seriously again. By the time that the Deuteronomy volume of the
dramatic new Palestinian Targum witness in MS Neofiti 1 came to be
published (1978), the standard modern critical editions and
commentaries for the Didache and Barnabas had already appeared
(1978 and 1971 respectively).47 And so the Jewish background to the
two ways theme is discussed in these volumes primarily in
connection with 1QS.
How effective was the unwitting censorship imposed on the
Targumim by Strack and Billerbeck's Kommentar can well be seen

from Orbe's reliance on that collection for Rabbinic parallels; for a
discussion of the Palestinian Targum's handling of Deut. 30.15 and
19 would have been highly illuminating for his whole argument.
The harmful effect that sole reliance on Strack and Billerbeck's
Kommentar by students of the New Testament and early Christianity
has had on much scholarship in this area is well known, and has been
well brought out by Geza Vermes in his 'Jewish Studies and New
Testament Interpretation'.48 Our present case history simply emphasizes
the points that he has already so incisively made.
Blessed with the benefit of hindsight we can, then, look back over
the history of scholarship on the two ways with a wry smile as we
perceive the various blind spots of the pasta warning of course that
we no doubt have our own, but different, ones. Like the lame man in
the allegory of the body and soul in b. Sanhedrin 91, we would be ill-
advised to reject the help of the blind man; rather, we should climb
on to his back and thus together, by our cooperative effort, we may
perhaps be able to reach to pick the fruit in the orchard.
NOTES
1. The texts are cited below.

2. C. Taylor, The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles with Illustrations from
the Talmud, Cambridge, 1886. Curiously, he cites none of the midrashic
parallels to the concept of the two ways (he concentrates instead on the
content of the teaching concerning the two ways).
3. Notably G. Klein, Der dlteste christliche Katechismus und diejiidische
Propaganda-Literatur, Berlin, 1909, pp. 157ff. This work contains many
insights which still retain their value. A series of monographs by A. Seeberg
on the content of the two ways teaching are of less interest today.
4. See the helpful survey of scholarship on the two ways by W. Rordorf,
'Un chapitre d'ethique judeo-chretienne: les deux voies', RSR 60 (1972) =
Judeo-Christianisme. Recherches historiques et theologiques offertes en
hommage au Cardinal Jean Danielou, pp. 109-28 (reprinted in his Liturgie,
foi et vie des premiers Chretiens. Etudes Patristiques (Theologie historique, 75,
1986), pp. 155-74; cf. also M.J. Suggs, 'The Christian Two Ways tradition:
its antiquity, form and function', in D.E. Aune (ed.), Studies in New
Testament and Early Christian Literature (NTSupp., 33), 1972, pp. 60-74.
5. Initiated by J-P. Audet, 'Affinites litteraires et doctrinales du Manuel
de Discipline', RB 59 (1952), pp. 219-38.
6. The Latin Doctrina Apostolorum belongs to the same general tradition,
for although it is for the most part a translation ofDidache 1, its opening
combines the Didache's 'life/death' with 'light/darkness', and introduces the
two angels (of right and wrong, aequitatis... iniquitatis).
7. Thus evidently E. Kamlah, Die Form der katalogischen Paranese im
Neuen Testament (WUNT, 7), 1964, p. 214.
8. The view in fact goes back much earlier, to Harnack.
9. Thus Kamlah, Die Form, p. 173.
10. J-P. Audet, La Didache (Etudes Bibliques), Paris, 1958.
11. Audet, La Didache, p. 256. The importance of Deut. 30 had already
been emphasized by Klein, Der alteste christliche Katechismus, p. 163.
12. Das Bundesformular (WMANT, 4), 1964, p. 133.
13. In Gregorianum 51 (1970), pp. 305-65, 509-36. Similarly J. Danidou,
Etudes d'exegese judeo-chretienne (Thologie historique, 5), 1965, p. 64, also
points to the importance of Deut. 30.15, 19.
14. For this, see below.
15. The text has mwtnh, which is probably a corruption of either mwth,
'death', or mtwth, 'mortality'.
16. And Pseudo-Jonathan, if one removes the relative clauses.
17. These are usually described as free paraphrases (thus, for example,
Orbe, 'El dilema', pp. 315-17).
18. He goes on to cite Isa. 1.19-20.
19. E.g. Dialogue with Heradeides 27.11.
20. 1 Kings 18.21 in this sense may be reflected by LXX Ben Sira 2.12
ouai... duaprojAxp eTTtfiaivovu eni 8uo Tpijtouc;.
21. TeOeiKa is quite widely attested in quotations of the LXX form of this
passage, e.g. Methodius, de Resurrectione 1.32.5; Clement of Alexandria,
Stromateis 6.8.7 (but not 5.96.5); Origen, Comm. Matt. 15.23 (but not 12.33).
Te6eiica is used a number of times in the LXX in a covenantal context.
Similarly Apoc. Bar. 19.1 quotes Deut. 30.15 (+19) withsamet (= *Te9euca);
cf. also Or. Sib. 8.399 npoeGriica.
22. The verb sdr is also found in the Syriac translation of Ben Sira 45.6(5),
which probably has Deut. 30.19 in mind (LXX E&OKEV; Heb. uoysm).
23. Clement of Alexandria also has a subdivision into two ways, but these
are epya and yvwat? (Stromateis 4.39.1, on which see J. Wytzes, 'The two-
fold way: Platonic influences in the work of Clement of Alexandria', Vigiliae
Christianae 11 [1957], pp. 226-45). At a greater remove are the 'paths'
alongside the way in the Syriac Liber Graduum, ch. 19.
24. Pace H.W. Hollander and M. de Jonge, The Testaments of the Twelve
Patriarchs. A Commentary (SVTP, 8), 1985, p. 343, who say,'This passage
does not suggest acquaintance with a "two ways catechism"'.
25. The same applies to the Doctrina Apostolorum; the two angels also
feature in Hernias, Mandates VI.2.1. Outside 1QS the 'two spirits' are also
found in T. Judah 20.1 and (by implication) in Philo, Quaestiones in Exodum
1.23, on which see M. Philonenko in Hellenica et Judaica: Hommage a
V, Nikiprowetsky,Leuven/Paris, 1986, pp. 61-68.

26. Even though LXX has eicAâi at Deut. 30.19. The choice of eteoOe in
T. Levi may be due to the influence of LXX Joshua 24.15 where that verb is
used (eKXeâaGe in B derives from Theodotion: see LJ. Greenspoon, Textual
Studies in the Book of Joshua [HSM, 28], 1983, p. 111). Note that Philo,
Quod Deus sit immutabilis 50 (cited below) uses aipeioOcu in connection with
Deut. 30.19.
27. The Law is identified as 'the way of life' by Pseudo-Jonathan at Deut.
30.19, but as the Tree of Life by Neofiti at Gen. 3.24 (in the latter passage
neither Neofiti nor the Fragment Targum has anything corresponding to 'the
way to' the Tree of Life; for a possible reason for this curious omission, see
below).
28. There is some confusion in the text of Add. 27031 at the end of the
verse, but the above follows the generally accepted understanding.
29. Taking the suffix to be 3rd sing., rather than 1st plur. (as in modern
translations). Among the ancient versions all the Targumim (Palestinian,
Babylonian and Samaritan) and Symmachus take it as 3rd sing.
30. Cf. Danielou, Etudes d'exegese judeo-chretienne, p. 64.
31. Justin, Apology I, 44.1; compare also Tertullian, de Castitate 2.3, and
de Monogamia 14.7.
32. Does mtwth, 'mortality', instead ofmwth, 'death', in FT at Deut. 30.15
and in N at Deut. 30.19 deliberately imply a link with Gen. 2-3?
33. According to early Syriac exegesis it is the sword of Gen. 3.24, rather
than the Law, which constitutes Paul's 4>paYHO<; (syaga in Syriac) at Eph.
2.14; see, for example, Aphrahat, Dem. XIV.31; XXIII.3; Ephrem, Comm.
Gen. II.7; Liber Graduum XV.2.
34. E.g. Ephrem, H. de Nativitate VIII.4, 'Blessed be the Merciful One /
who saw the sword beside Paradise, / barring the way to the Tree of Life; / he
came and took to himself a body / which was wounded so that / by the
opening of his side / he might open up the way into Paradise'. The theme is
very common, especially from the fourth century onwards; see R. Murray,
'The lance which reopened Paradise', Orientalia Christiana Periodica 39
(1973), pp. 224-34, 491.
35. T. Levi 18 is the sole reference given by P. Volz, Jildische Eschatologie
von Daniel bis Akiba, Tubingen/Leipzig, 1903, p. 377.
36. A. Hultgard, L'eschatologie des Testaments des Douze Patriarches,
Stockholm, 1977, 1982, I, pp. 283-84; II, pp. 228-38. Hultgard's view is
surprisingly followed by M. Alexandre in her richly documented 'L'dpde de
flamme (Gen. 3,24): textes chrdtiens et traditions juives', in Hellenica et
judaica: Hommage a V. Nikiprowetzky, Leuven/Paris, 1986, p. 422, note
95.
37. Thus Acts of Thomas 10 and 156 (two liturgical passages addressed to
Christ), 'You trod out for the way from Sheol to the height'. Similarly
Aphrahat, Dem. XII.8, and many passages in subsequent Syriac literature.
152 A Tribute to Geza Verities
(Some examples are given by R. Murray, Symbols of Church and Kingdom,

Cambridge, 1975, pp. 246-49, 299-301).
38. The same applies to the various references to the Two Ways in the
Midrashim.
39. In this connection it is worth observing that 4 Ezra 7.129 speaks of'the
way (sing.) which Moses spoke of, in connection with Deut. 30.19.
40. This development might also be implied by Ben Sira 15.17 evavrt
dvOpamcov f| a)f| icai 6 Gdvaccx;.
41. So Murray, Symbols of Church and Kingdom, p. 299. (The Odes
probably belong to the late second century, though the date is disputed.)
42. Thus, for example, P. Prigent, Epitre de Barnabe (Sources chrltiennes,
172), 1971, p. 19, misleadingly speaks of'voie de lumiere et voie de tenebres'
in connection with 1QS; whereas the text has the plural (voies) in both
cases.
43. Ephrem's reference to 'the two ways of darkness and of light' (H. de
Fide XX.14) is intriguing, since he knew neither the Doctrina nor
Barnabas.
44. Pace M. Delcor, Le Testament d'Abraham (SVTP, 2), 1973, pp. 133-34,
this passage can hardly fail to be Christian (Matt. 7.13-14 is often thought to
be based on the theme of the two ways).
45. For the two ways, see vol. I, pp. 461-63; cf. W. Michaelis in TDNT, V,
pp. 58-59.
46. In his Masoreten des Western II (BWANT, 111.14).
47. Sources chr^tiennes, 172 (Barnabas), 248 (Didache). Attention was
drawn to the interest of the Palestinian Targum in this matter in the course
of my review of R. Le Daut's French translation of N and PsJ (Sources
chrttiennes, 271), 1980 inJTS ns 34 (1983), pp. 617-18.
48. In JJS 31 (1980), pp. 1-17, esp. 5-6.
THE RABBINIC VIEW OF SCRIPTURE*
Arnold Goldberg
University of Frankfort
In the context of the present topic I may be forgiven for summarily

referring to the group of Jewish teachers of the first to the fifth
centuries CE, who concerned themselves with interpreting the bible,
as 'the Rabbis'. It is of course true that it is generally not warranted
to designate them in this manner without further qualification or
distinction. They approached the Bible in various ways and for a
variety of purposes, be it to furnish guiding norms for the religious
life, or to teach on God or the world. Yet, despite the variety of methods of
interpretation, there was a broad consensus on how to arrive at
interpretation and on what it means to accord to Scripture the status
of revelation, and thus the treatment of the Rabbis as a collective
seems permissible.
The investigation of the rabbinic view of Scripture is not identical
with an examination of the ways and means of interpretation. The
question is, rather: What was the object of rabbinic interpretation?
What was Scripture itself in the view of the Rabbis? Here a
distinction has to be made between Scripture's communication, that
is, what the Rabbis understood as its contents and message on the one
hand, and on the other, Scripture as a number of linguistic signs
which prior to being interpreted are just signs. Our topic is the latter,
namely that aspect of any piece of written communication which
constitutes a basis of communication, a thing, and also an artefact.
'Holy Scripture', Tanakh, is, according to the Rabbis, of divine
origin. It contains a communication from God to man. The sole
content of this divine communication is what God has to say to man,
or more precisely, to his people Israel. However, not only what the
Prophets or Moses told the Israelites in their time constitutes this
communication, but also what today is still said about that in
Scripture.
To be sure, rabbinic exegesis does ask questions like: Who wrote

down the books of the Prophets? But it asks so in a merely historical
manner, in the sense of: When was the book written down, and by
whom?1 The book as it is present today is Scripture from God for
man; it contains communications on something and this something
(what it is about) has to be distinguished from what is being
communicated. It is extremely important for the exegesis to keep
Scripture as communication apart from the event which is being
communicated. Exegesis can ask: What is the meaning of this word?
What does the speaker mean by that expression? What perhaps may
he give to understand? The second kind of question exegesis may
pose concerns the norm or event conveyed in Scripture, for instance:
What happened?
It is most remarkable that rabbinic exegesis does concentrate to a
very large extent on the linguistic sign, not the event. It typically
asks: What does this sign mean, that is, what does God or Scripture
want to say by it? Only rarely do the Rabbis comment, for example by
asking: Why did Moses do this or that? Rabbinic exegesis, viz.
Midrash, is almost without exception meta-linguistic. It is discourse
on the meaning of liguistic signs, it expresses what God wants to say
with his word. Rabbinic interpretation seldom deals with the
empirical world which is also contained in Scripture; rather, it makes
the linguistic world of Scripture its world of experience.2
Scripture is therefore a communication of God to Israel, and as
such divorced from the events reported in it. The reader of Scripture
perceives that what is being said is that this or that event took place,
but he also apprehends that he has no immediate access to that
event. He has only access to a linguistic communication. This is the
reason why the rabbinic exegete could never be a historian. The
events naturally are important: Israel was indeed redeemed from
Egypt. But there is only one reliable report on the events, and that is
what God says about them in Scripture. A record by a contemporary
and eye-witness, the kind of document a historian would wish to
have, would be useless for the rabbinic reader of Scripture, for only
God's Holy Writ is ultimately dependable. What is true with regard
to the exodus is true for the world as a whole: reliable knowledge
about the world can only be gained from what God says about it.
Scripture, then, is distinct from what it communicates. What is
communicated are things past, while the communication as such is
valid and present at any given time.
GOLDBERG The Rabbinic View of Scripture 155
The historian, the hermeneut of our days, discriminates. He

establishes that a document written in the distant past has a different
meaning from a writing of today. There is no such distinction for the
Rabbis. Moses spoke to his contemporaries in the situation of the
desert journey, but God communicates this for the future. Scripture
is present and being interpreted today. To the rabbinic exegete the
idea that God would write it differently today is not acceptable.
As a consequence, Scripture loses its context. Moses spoke in the
context of the exodus and the desert journey, or so it appears,
according to the will of the author of the report. The reader or
listener is integrated into this context of Moses' speech. God himself,
however, communicates this without historical context. For in the
view of the Rabbis Scripture is not a writing which was produced by
God at a certain time for certain people, but a work which is true and
valid without any contextual constraints. The events are historical,
not the writing; despite being produced in time, it is independent of
any particular time. Rabbinic interpretation of Scripture thus knows
of no historical relativism. Though the event conveyed is an event in
time, the communication about the event is free from all temporal
limitations.
Obviously, such a view will cause considerable problems in the
course of the passing of centuries or millennia. It is clear that the
increase of knowledge about the world takes place without regard to
the Torah. To solve this problem is the task of the exegetes. If
historical relativism is not at their disposal, they have to fit the
present to Scripture by way of interpretation, or we could say, re-
interpretation. They have to give Scripture a meaning acceptable to
their own times. This is where the concept of Scripture without
context is of use. The exegete does not have to state what Scripture's
meaning was at the time of its origin (and what it therefore could not
mean today in the same manner anyway)this is the historian's
task. He has to say what it means today, and this is only possible if
Scripture has no historical context. The exegete can say, "This sign
means today...', and proceed as if Scripture had been written just a
moment agofor God would write today as he wrote then. Scripture
does not change, but its interpretation develops in the course of time.
God without doubt knew this and wanted it this way. The
interpretation is inherent in Scripture from the beginning, but the
exegete understands Scripture's meaning in his own time. Thus, the
present, at any given moment, forms the context of Scripture.
In this way Scripture is always synchronous with the exegete, and

a projection of Scripture into the past cannot change its meaning.
Scripture is alsoand this has been observed repeatedlysynchronous
with itself. The book Bereshit (Genesis) and the book Jeremiah share
the same time dimensionjust as they are given in Scripture
simultaneously. Any part of Scripture can be linked with any other
part, any sign related to any other sign. Since the signs are
independent of any context, interpretation becomes inter-textual:
Scripture is interpreted from Scripture, not from the world.
This opens the possibility to relate signs to each other after they
have been isolated from their original contexts. The phenomenon of
this atomistic approach of the Rabbis to Scripture has often been
noticed. It allows the interpretation to concentrate on a single sign,
from a grapheme upwards to the sentence or verse (but rarely beyond
that) without regard to the surrounding text (co-text) and thus
without taking notice of the overall sense. The rabbis do not produce
commentaries which continuously interpret Scripture. Such com-
mentaries, if one can call them that, emerge only in the process of
redaction which lists the individual interpretations in the order of
Scripture. The individual interpretation often pays no attention at all
to the Scriptural co-text, the textual neighbourhood, in which the
interpreted sign is found.
What then is the nature of Scripture, what kind of thing was it to
the Rabbis? Clearly, written revelation is a sequence of linguistic
signs in a written document. But what is a linguistic sign?
In order to answer this question one can collect statements from
rabbinic literature dealing with essential aspects of their view of
Scripture. At the same time, it is necessary to look at the practice of
rabbinic exegesis to establish what the Rabbis took for a linguistic
sign. Most of this is generally known and therefore rather trivial.
However, it is not these facts that concern us here, but rather their
consequences. The question is: What is the document which is the
object of interpretation? I would like to concentrate as a first step on
the five books of the Torah, for the rabbinic opinions on this topic are
quite easy to make out.
The Rabbis were convinced of Moses' authorship of the five books
to such a degree that it could be called a dogma. How his authorship
came about in detail, whether God dictated the Torah to him and he
wrote it down, whether the Holy Spirit rested on him, all may have
been open to controversy. What is certain is that in the end Moses
held a book, a scroll with writing, in his hand. It is to be presumed
that Torah scrolls like the ones still in use today, were, in the view of
the Rabbis, accurate copies of this original Scroll. If this is not
accepted, it can be argued from the halakhah: All Scrolls are to be
produced according to a common standard. The scroll, the ink, the
distance between the words, the exact form of the signs, every single
letter, all these things are prescribed, no doubt in fulfilment of divine
command. God wants the Torah which is heard in the congregation
and also interpreted by readers to have exactly this outward
appearance. Torah then is, in contrast to all oral revelation (which is
not our topic), a thing, an artefact, a product of hide or parchment
and ink, and at the same time a product of certain signs and letters.
This product has an exactly prescribed outward shape.
A very important first conclusion is given with this fact. Torah is
not speech which happens to be written down (as one could be led to
believe by the frequent 'thus spoke 'Adonaf), but isregardless of
how the product was brought about in the beginningessentially a
written thing, a piece of writing. It would be simply speech recorded
in writing only if God had dictated Moses the text, and Moses had
written it down in his usual handwriting, according to the rules to
which he, Moses, adheredbut this is not the case. The difference
between speech written down and a piece of writing which is the
result of an act of writing seems prima facie to be very small, the
distinction even far-fetched. But it is of prime importance for our
topic. In the case of a speech written down the act of speaking
precedes the act of writing: a spoken word is being recorded by
means of a system of graphic signs. If, however, God himself, or he
by the hand of Moses, did the writing, the product is the result of an
act of writing, and the corresponding act of reception is not hearing
or listening to the speech of God (or to someone who reads what God
has spoken), but seeing or reading. The product, Scripture, is above
all perceived with the eyes.
What is at stake here is the oral or literary nature of the text. If
God had said to Moses 'exactly like this speak to the children of
Israel' and Moses had written this text down, then he would have
had to memorize it just 'like this': with all the dynamics of voice,
intonation of questions, pauses between parts of speech. The text
would have remained oral and the taking it down in writing would
only have produced a subservient record. Torah would have had to
be transmitted orally and remain oral, for just how it was right could
only have been learned from the mouth of the expert. But since
Torah is in writing, all that is required for a written work to

constitute a text must be done by the reader himself. He has to find
out how a sign is to be read and what its significance beyond the
phoneme might be.
The primacy of writing, however, gives rise to a dilemma, for the
text should also be read aloud and heard. This dilemma finds its
apparent solution in Qere and Ketiv, the text 'as read' and the text 'as
written'. It is likely that in the times of the Rabbis there already
existed a tradition of how to read the text of the Torah and the other
writings, viz. a Masoraof course not necessarily the one known to
us from a later age. It follows that the text as read aloud was
prescribed. This is true in particular for the public delivery of
Scripture in the synagogue. The sound of the signs was therefore
already determinednecessarily in accordance with the divine
will.
But the Qere's force is restricted to the oral delivery or any
enunciation of Scripture. It does not cancel the force of the Ketfv, as
if, since this is the way it has to be pronounced, the result of a
different way to read it is excluded. If that were the case, the Ketiv
would only be an obsolete orthography safeguarding the text against
modification. It would mean that the Ketiv had no significant
function and a whole range of graphic signs would be superfluous,
just as one would have to say that a number of graphic signs was
lacking (namely the graphemes of the words spelled defectively). But
this is hardly acceptable for a text of revelation. Rabbinic exegesis
indeed assumes the Qere as the received and intended text, i.e. the
Qere is always correct.3 But exegesis takes account of the Ketiv as
well. The Ketiv, too, has significance, and the exegetes do ask, for
example, why a word is spelled plene or defectively, or why onccplene
and at other times defectively.4 One answer to this question is of course
inadmissible, namely that the orthography is arbitrary and both
spellings are equally possible. The real answer is that God communicates
something by Ketiv as well as by Qere. This Ketiv does not only give
a number of readings that differ from the Qere, but they cannot even
be pronounced.
Establishing the fact that revelation is originally and primarily
writing is absolutely essential, in that this written nature implies the
correspondent performance of reading. Not only what can be heard,
but also what can be seen is significant and meaningful. The views of
the Rabbis on this will now briefly be documented by collecting some
of the statements on Scripture in rabbinic writings.
In general the following assumptions hold true: Revelation is a text

in human natural language (this may have to be modified later on),
its author being a perfectly competent speaker. This means that there
are no linguistic defects to be found in the texteach sign is
absolutely meaningful. The controversy between Ishmael and Akiva
about the question whether Scripture speaks in the way of human
language or not is well known. Thus Rabbi Ishmael views the
doubling of verbs (in the infinitive absolute construction) as
following man's usage, which is also binding for God, while R. Akiva
takes it to be a doubling of meaning. R. Akiva's opinion seems to
have prevailed. His position implies already what later became
generally accepted, namely that there is no redundancy in Scripture,
i.e. no superfluous or meaningless linguistic signs. Accordingly, signs
which have probably merely syntactical function such as the
accusative particle 'et (nota accusativi), became the object of
interpretation. It may be noted in passing that it is quite possible to
find linguistic arguments in favour of some aspects of this position.
The prohibition of redundancy, as this maxim could be called, has
consequences for the halakhic mode of interpretation as well. It
stipulates that two verses of Scripture which have the same or a very
similar wording cannot really contain the same norm. God says
many things in one word, but he never says anything twicetwo
sentences, even two words must therefore have two different
meanings.5 Furthermore, there are no synonyms in Scripture. This is
generally true, and applies to the text as enunciated as well as to the
written text. It is possible to extend the redundancy prohibition to
graphic signs. While it is true that there are no explicit statements in
rabbinic literature to the effect that graphic signs cannot be
redundant (that God does not write anything superfluous or
meaningless), one finds support for this suggestion in the actual
rabbinic practice of interpreting graphic signs. First, I would like to
draw attention to the interpretation ofhaseroth andyeteroth,plene or
defective spelling. Phonetically it is irrelevant whether a word is
spelled one way or the other; the pronunciation is safeguarded by the
Masora. But for exegetical purposes it is assumed \hatplene spelling
points to fullness or means increase, whereas defective spelling
implies decrease. For example, the proper name Ephron is spelled
plene in the whole of Genesis 32, except for verse 16. By this is
expressedaccording to the exegetethat God has diminished the
name of Ephron, because he was envious and mean.6
Secondly, mention must be made of the changed readings, the

sinnuyim. The unvocalized text may for instance admit different
readings. While the Masora safeguards a constant, unambiguous
reading, we have already seen that, for the purposes of interpretation,
the Qere can be suspended. The reading may then vary and it is
permissible to assume a different vocalization. For example, Isa. 40.1,
nahamu nahamu 'ammi 'comfort, comfort my people', may also be
read as nahamu 'immi, 'comfort with me'.7 But in al tiqre inter-
pretations not only vocalizations may be changed, but even changes
of the consonantal spelling are allowed. They illustrate that even
graphemes whose pronunciation is unambiguous can be modified in
their reading, thus e.g. sin and samekh can be exchanged. The
justification of this procedure is that in Scripture itself different
graphemes can be found to represent the same phoneme, resulting in
the occurrence of one and the same sign with different consonants.8
The original validity of the sign and its meaning are by no means
cancelled by such procedures. 'Comfort, comfort my people' remains
just as valid as 'comfort with me'. As a rule the newly generated
readings and meanings are additional, not exclusive. 'Comfort,
comfort my people' may be explained as 'comfort my people with
me'.
Consequently, the question whether, historically speaking, the
prophet said 'my people' or 'with me', i.e. lammi or 'imrni cannot be
posed this way. Rather it is to be asked: Did God write that the
prophet said lammi, or did he write that the prophet said limrm? The
answer then must be: God has written in such a way as to admit both
readings, therefore he intended that it should be read either way. The
non-ambiguity of oral speech is not lost in writing because of any
deficiency of Scripture (God could have written down the vocalization),
but because he communicates different things by way of the
ambiguities.
The particular rabbinic procedures are well-known. I shall only
add a mention of the notarikon operation which alters the sign
completely: each syllable or letter stands for a different word, and the
new signs share with the sign as found in Scripture merely one
grapheme or phoneme each. Moreover, in gematria signs can be
related to numerical values and exchanged with other signs of
identical numerical values. Even the shape of graphic signs can be
taken to be invested with meaning. Torah begins with the letter beth,
which is closed to three sides, in order to teach that it must not be
asked what is before the world, what is above the heavens, and what
is below the earth.9
Of course, the interpretation of graphic signs is not the only way to
read and interpret Scripture. A reading of the text of Scripture yields
in the first instance its ordinary meaning: Genesis is a creation story
and a tale about the patriarchs. The exegesis of the Rabbis does not
stop at this aspect of the reading performance, which in the process
of oral delivery or reading produces just such a literary text. Rabbinic
exegesis goes on to interpret. It does so, however, not by taking the
text in its unity of contents, in which case the result could be a new,
quasi-biblical book, but always by focussing exclusively on the
individual signs in isolation.
The signs of Scripture continually acquire meanings in the course
of interpretation. This has consequences for all areas of life, affecting
everything from norms of behaviour to historical narration and
statements on the divine order of the world. To be sure, some
exegetical procedures are excluded from the realm of halakhah, but
this does not impede the generation of new meanings everywhere.
Even if they are not created by uniform means, their starting point is
always the written text as a linguistic entity and the interpretation of
signs. This important point is well worth repeating: New meanings
are not created by speculation on what God or Moses might have
meant, or what might follow from what God said, but always
through the exploration of signs. New propositions (or insights) are
arrived at (in Midrash at least) exclusively by way of interpretation.
As a rule, exegesis says, 'This sign means...'; and since the sign is
part of divine Scripture, its meaning must be trueif it has been
correctly interpreted.
In the historical reality of the situation of the Rabbis, the truth of
interpretation surely depended in the last instance on its acceptance
by the community or at least part of the community. But truth, that
is the correctness of any interpretation, is not something which is
established by authoritarian imposition. Rabbinic exegesis is
principally discursive, ever ready to justify a claim through reasoned
argumentation. The truth of any interpretation therefore rests in its
justifiability.
For the examination of the function of Scripture in exegesis it is
quite irrelevant why Scripture was interpreted in the rabbinic
literature like this. Nothing is said about the style of exegesis if one
states that Scripture has to go on answering new practical questions,
posed by changing circumstances of life, even after being considered

complete; and that the means of arriving at these answers is
interpretation. It is an empirical fact that the completion of a
canonical text leads to the creation of a series of new texts on the
significance of the canonical one, for after canonization the Holy
Text cannot be continued according to the needs of the society for
which it is in force. This, however, only explains why Scripture was
interpreted, not why in this particular way. As a matter of course an
interpretation was needed. Once prophecy and verbal revelation as
well as pseudepigraphic continuation of the writings of Scripture as
exemplified in the apocalyptic literature or the Temple Scroll from
Qumran was rejected (there had been a decision, for whatever
reasons, to regard revelation as completed and terminated), one was
left with Scripture alone. As for the kind of interpretation, however,
there were a number of possibilities. For reasons unknown to us
rabbinic exegesis opted for this, its peculiar method: it conceives of
and uses Scripture as a graphic basis of communication; this is the
precise nature of Scripture in the exegetical practice of the Rabbis,
even though the term was of course unknown to them. Scripture is,
to start with, nothing but a series of graphic signs. These signs have
to be interpreted, at least read and perceived, before a communication
can be erected on this basis of communication. Only through
interpretation of the graphic signs can the communication, God's
message, which is found in Scripture, be construed. In contrast to
other actually occurring or conceivable kinds of exegesis the graphic
sign is taken to be the thing communicated by God and interpretation
acts upon this graphic sign. Exegesis thus is not just merely meta-
linguistic, but also meta-graphical, since it first interprets the graphic
sign and then also the linguistic sign constructed from the graphic
sign.
Meanwhile the numerical quantity of graphic signs apparently
remains the same: not a Yod of Scripture must be changed: a Torah
Scroll with even minor scribal flaws is unfit. Certainly the shape of
the letters, their sequence and number are also immutable. But in
reality the number of linguistic signs grows continuously, for new
linguistic signs are found in the course of time; more and more things
in Scripture become signs. This leads to a constant expansion of
what Scripture says. I should stress: of what Scripture itself says.
At this junction the question concerning the nature of the canon as
posed by Jacob Neusner10 has to be asked. If the meaning of
Scripture, i.e. what Scripture says, is increasing continuously, then

the term canon cannot be applied to it. Neusner does not at all
question the fact that the Rabbis made a clear distinction between
the text as found in the Torah Scroll and what they said about the
meaning of that text. But with the Rabbis what they say about
Scripture ranks as high if not higher than what is actually written in
the Torah Scroll. Neusner's question or proposition may seem far-
fetched: The difference between the canonical text as written in the
books of the Bible and that which is said about that text in, for
example, the rabbinical Midrash seems obvious. But I think it is
quite wrong to dismiss Neusner's statement out of hand, just because
it is surprising. The question concerning the canon is legitimate. But
it has to be posed somewhat differently and Scripture itself has to be
integrated into the framing of the question which Neusner, as far as I
can see, does not do.
Let us therefore re-phrase the question in the following way: What
exactly is it that the Rabis canonized? We have to leave aside the
whole complicated and unsolved problem of when the canon was
decided upon and what it included. It will do to assume that at a time
around the beginning of the second century CE a final decision was
taken: these are the books from God (whatever the precise channel of
revelation) and shall from now on be the canon of Holy Scripture;
more precisely, they shall be what we today call a canon, for the word
was unknown to the Rabbis. They have canonized a text which
consists, according to the perhaps more recent Masora, of a sequence
of sounds, if enunciated (this being the Qere\ and which can be
understood, e.g. in the case of the book Bereshit, as a creation and a
tale of patriarchs in such and such a way. This 'such and such' is by
no means unambiguous, but only approximate. Certainly one has to
read the first two words, for example, as bere'sft bdrd\ What this
means is not at all clear. Does bere'sft mean 'in the beginning'? And
what kind of beginning is this? What kind of creating is this? What
then was canonized by the Rabbis? The answer must be that a
sequence of graphic signs was canonized, and this in two respects: (a)
as a maximally exact sequence of graphic scriptural signs which was
assumed to be of divine origin in precisely this form; and (b) as a
pronunciation directive for the conversion of graphic signs into
phonemic signs. One thus knows which words, which graphic or
phonemic signs, belong to this canon. One knows what kind of text is
constituted by transforming the signs into language in the process of
reading. The meaning of the signs, on the other hand, is always open,
for otherwise there could have been no controversies among
particular groups as to how to understand Scripture. It was thus a
certain quantity of signs which was canonized, which corresponds to
a continuously growing and at the same time changing quantity of
meanings. Indeed, the meaning of the signs could never be limited by
a canon. In other words: It was not the communication that was
canonized, but the basis of communication. Neusner's position
confuses this basis, the continuum of signs, with the store of
meanings. The Rabbis made a careful distinction here; they did not
tamper with the Torah Scroll. On the contrary, they saw to it that it
was copied as meticulously as possible, and just this, or so it seems to
me, is the 'canonized text'. They wrote the meaning of this text in
separate books or in the margin of manuscripts or elsewhere, but
never into the basis of communication itself. What a modified basis
of communication would look like can be seen in the Temple Scroll or
the book of Jubilees.
At this point note should be taken of a peculiarity of rabbinic
exegesis. As a rule the attempt is made to render a canonical text
unambiguous through interpretation, i.e. to create monosemy.
Rabbinic exegesis takes the opposite route: while it carefully
preserves the graphic signs, it steadily acquires more meanings. The
word bere'sit at the beginning of the Bible does not become
unambiguous in the process of exegesis, but accrues continuously
additional imports. Polysemy in Scripture is, as we have seen,
intended. By contrast, what is said about the meaning of Scripture in
exegesis is unambiguous.
We may now try to determine what Scripture is in the view of the
rabbinical exegetes. It is an exactly determined quantity of graphic
signs. The artefact 'Scripture' answers to a precise description and
cannot be changed. To this pre-determined and finite number of
graphic signs corresponds a still open quantity of linguistic signs.
The quantity of linguistic signs grows in the process of interpretation,
for constantly new things are discovered to be linguistic signs. This
identification of new carriers of meaning may take place on the level
of the mere graphic sign (it is always possible to understand
something else in Scripture as meaningful), or on the other levels up
to the sentence and the pericope. The number of meanings is
continually increasing without any effect on Scripture as artefact.
In the process of rabbinic exegesis the quantity of scriptural signs
becomes a world of signs, or so one could understand it. For the signs
of Scripture are interpreted in essentially the same way as the signs
of the empirical world, namely with the help of a system of rules
which change in limeone only has to compare the manner of early
rabbinic interpretations with that of the Zohar, for example. In the
interpretation of these signs a world is created, just as a world is
constructed in the interpretation of empirical phenomena. However,
the world given by the continuum of signs of Scripture is a purely
linguistic world; they are signs of language (not of nature) and
interpreting them is in the first instance always exegesis of linguistic
signs.
This seems to me to be the characteristic and perhaps unique trait
of rabbinic Scriptural exegesis, that it constructs from the artefact,
the Torah Scroll, first a world of linguistic experience and then,
through this linguistic world, the world in which the exegete as well
as the pious Jew are at home.
There was in the age of the Rabbis no empirical and no scientific
world besides this linguistic world of experience, constructed from
the signs of the artefact 'Holy Scripture', which could lay a rival
claim to truth. To be sure, there was the experience of the sun's
setting and rise; the signs of the empirical world did have their
validity. But the sun which goes down and rises is identical with the
sun of which Scripture speaks. The empirical world and the world of
Scripture could be and indeed had to be one; they did not diverge.
The empirical world was checked against the world of Scripture, just
as we today check our everyday world against and interpret it
according to the world of scientific models. This world of Scripture
was the communication which emerged from the continuous exegesis
of the graphic basis of communication which is 'Scripture'.
In brief, the following conclusions may de drawn from the
foregoing discussion: The Scriptural canon of the rabbinic exegetes is
a graphic basis of communication of divine origin consisting of a
quantity of signs whose form and number cannot be changed. These
graphic signs are understood as linguistic signs, with the number of
linguistic signs constantly growing in the course of continuous
exegesis. The linguistic signs which are established in the pronunciation
of the text, viz. the Qere> are only a part of the total number of the
meaningful and the canonized signs. The canonized text of the
Rabbis is not just the audible Qere, but also the graphic Ketiv.
In the interpretation of these signs a linguistic communication is
constructed which is without context, i.e. permanently valid,

communicated by its producer God to each new reader and exegete.
This communication in turn serves to interpret and order the world
of experience in a rational way.
These characteristics should provide the starting point for any
attempt to compare rabbinic Scriptural interpretation with other
types of exegesis.
NOTES
"The original version of this paper was delivered as a presidential address at

the 3rd Conference of the EAJS, Berlin 1987. The German text appeared in
Frankfurter Judaistische Beitrdge 15 (1987), pp. 1-15. It has been translated by
Alexander Samely, John Rylands Research Institute, Manchester.
1. Cf., for example, b. Baba Bathra 14b.
2. Cf. A. Goldberg, 'Die ftmktionale Form Midrasch', Frankfurter
Judaistische Beitrdge 10 (1982), pp. 29 and 38f.
3. Cf. b. Sank. tnpD1? DN EP but also miDD1? DN t?\
4. A collection of such interpretation can be found in the Midrash
Haserot Wiyeterot (Bate Midrash, Vol. II, pp. 202-332).
5. B. Sank. 34b.
6. Gen. R. 58-7 (627).
7. Pesiqta Rabbati 29/30-11; see B.A.A. Kern, Trostet, trostet mein
Volk!... (Pes. R. 30 und 29/30} [=Frankfurter Judaistische Studien, Vol. 7],
Frankfurt a.M., 1986, p. 493.
8. S. Waldberg, Sefer darke ha-shinuyim, Jerusalem, 1970.
9. Gen. R. 1-10 (8).
10. Jacob Neusner, Midrash in Context, Exegesis in Formative Judaism,
Philadelphia, 1983, pp. 135-37.
BEN SIRA 42.9-10 AND ITS TALMUDIC PARAPHRASE*
Jonas C. Greenfield
The Hebrew University
Jerusalem
Ben Sira's views about women are well known and have been
discussed often. His words may be taken either as a reflection of his
times or as his personal views expressed with vigor and vehemence.1
His anxiety over the behavior of daughters is first stated in 7.24-27;
this is taken up again in 22.3-5 and culminates in a diatribe against
the daughter as a constant source of worry for her father (42.9-14).2
A paraphrase of 42.9-10 is found in the Babylonian Talmud,
Sanhedrin lOOb.
The Talmud and other parts of rabbinic literature provide an
important early source for the Ben Sira tradition. Rabbi Sa'adya
Gaon (d. 942) had a pointed text of Ben Sira,4 from which he quoted,
and the medieval Alpha Beta deBen Sira also preserved some
authentic Ben Sira material in Aramaic translation.5 The potential
value of these texts can be seen in particular in the examination of a
text such as Ben Sira 3.21-22. There are two divergent Geniza Texts
(A,C), the Greek and Syriac translations, and four differing rabbinic
texts: y. Hagigah 2.1. 77c; b. Hagigah 13a; Gen. R. 88; Sa'adya Gaon.
Comparison of these texts is an enlightening exercise in textual
transmission.
The longest section dealing with Ben Sira in the Talmud is in the
aforementioned b. Sanhedrin lOOb, in which the question of the
moral value of reading Ben Sira is raised. Some of the texts quoted
there occur in Ben Sira wholly or partially, while some are not
known at all. It is here that the Talmudic parallel to Ben Sira 42.9-10
is quoted.
This reads6
and may be translated:

A daughter is a false treasure to her father
for fear over her he does not sleep;
while a child lest she be seduced,
in her youth, lest she play the whore;
when she matures lest she not be married,
when she marries lest she have no children;
when she grows old lest she practice sorcery.
A comparison of this text with almost any modern translation of Ben

Sira proper will show that, in distinction to most other identifiable
Ben Sira texts in rabbinic literature, this was clearly a remade text.
That is, the elements of the text of Ben Sira were known but they
have been rearranged following a clear pattern.
The early publication of the Ben Sira text from Masada has
allowed scholars to study development and divergence.7 For the
Hebrew text we have essentially three versionsMasada (M), a
genizah text, part of ms. B (B) and marginal notes to B (B Marg).8
There is also the Greek translation, made by Ben Sira's grandson
from a Hebrew version that diverged from these, and also a Syriac
translation that also used a different, and often shorter Hebrew text.
Before dealing with the Talmudic text I wish to present a rationalized
version of the Masada text using the insights of various scholars who
have contributed to its study.9
9a-b nou T[isn MN-J] pjpty PDBD 3N1? [n]a Yadin records a sin as
the first letter, but this must best be taken as a scribal error for a
bet corrected, albeit in a clumsy manner.10 For JIDBD which is found
also in B Marg, both B and T have the later(?) form nJDBD.11 B also
reads "ipt?, which is supported by G's agrupnia 'sleeplessness',
commonly accepted to be based on npty, as in 34.1, which in this
verse is a misreading of "ipt?. T. substitutes xw for npt?.12
GREENFIELD Ben Sira 42.9-10 & its Talmudic Paraphrase 169
PUNI 'worry', so B, with B Marg's nrui-n making the subject more

explicit, naii -nan: this restoration, rather than PIDU T:n,13 is based
on combining nou T... of M and ... an of B; it matches the
widespread use of TIB with words for sleep in the various Aramaic
dialects and in late Hebrew.14
9c-d n[jtf]n JB n^n]^ DND[n] JB rmwa

The reading of the first hemistich is clear: a word like DNDn could
stand behind G's parakmase, and S's tistahe.15 The choice of word
may have been influenced by the use of DNO in Isa. 54.6. B's nun is
usually explained by Aramaic "iij 'to commit adultery'; this is
reflected in T's rum JB mw. Yet, in Jewish usage nw should
properly be used of a married woman, not the unmarried girl
predicated by this passage. Perhaps, "nJ means simply'lest she dwell',
i.e. in her father's house and not be married. M presents no such
problems.
rbjni, accepting Strugnell's reading with a slight modification.16
As he noted, G reads here kai sunokekuia which is Pftiwi. S's wemen
ba'lah points in the same direction. As has long since been noted, B's
nîroai is out of place here, and surely lifted from the following line.
The final word of this line may best be restored rutyn for NJtyn.17
10 a-b n&tyn [JB] new "?ri ^nn JB nîroa

There is no problem with the reading of this line. The verb ^nn
matches, and was surely influenced by, nut1? ^nn o of Lev. 21.9, with
the same Greek verb bebelothe in the LXX of Lev. 21.9 and G here.
S's titparse 'will be disclosed, brought into ill repute' is an
interpretive translation. The nniBn of B and nnsnn of B Marg and T
replaces a recondite word with a familiar one. netyn is undoubtedly
the original reading and is attested to by G's parabe which also
translates ntsttfn in Num. 5.12. The teste of S means something
different than Heb. n&tyn but serves as a witness to the text.18 Of B
there is little more left here than irsst. From B Marg one can restore
ntyjn N1? rftsn rpaai but the translation of ntyjn as 'will be forgotten'
is difficult in context. It may be proposed that the original reading in
the source of B Marg was mtyn. The meaning of B Marg would then
be 'and that she does not commit adultery in her husband's
house'.19
10 c-d [n]s [yr\ ;B rftrai mm IB rroN rva

The first hemistich is not problematic, and as has been noted it
matches the Greek text.20 The verb mm is a hapax in Biblical
Hebrew (Lev. 12.2) but the verb used in the LXX is different than that
used by G.21 The B text can be restored to match M [rva rvajn
mr IB. The second hemistich may be restored [rfrjpai and read n^rtt
with Strugnell or one may assume that the JT3 of the first hemistich
is to serve this word too, i.e. rftra JTD. The restoration of the last
word, proposed by Yadin, agrees with the remnants of B nsfrn] and B
Marg mn. This would match G's steirose. The putative rftya [rvaaji
is matched by ntr-N rvaai in B and B Marg.
The following translation, avoiding literary pretense, is offered for

the reconstructed Masada text:
9. A daughter is a false treasure for (her) father,
and worry over her drives away sleep-
iest in her youth she be rejected,
and when married lest she be hated;
10. while unmarried, lest she be defiled,
and lest she prove unfaithful to her husband;
lest she becomes pregnant while in her father's house,
and lest she be barren when married.
Before turning to the Talmudic version two pertinent remarks are in
order. The first remark deals with the structure of the text and has
been noted by others. After the introductory lines 9a-b the six
hemistichs that make up this section can be divided into two
complementary sections. Section A consists of lines 9c, lOa and lOc
and Section B consists of 9d, lOb and lOd; Section A deals with the
daughter's pre-marital state, and Section B with her married state.22
The second remark is that these lines show, in the M text a great
dependency on pentateuchal vocabulary: JIDBD, DNDn, n'wa, ^nn,
nDBm, mm, m'n, ,Ta rva, mwj. Many of these words had by Ben
Sira's days lost their early meaning or gone out of use entirely. The
writer depended on his audience's knowledge of Biblical verse, or
incorporated an earlier bit of wisdom as the introduction to his own
harangue (vv. 11-14).
A comparison of the lines discussed above with those of the
Talmudic paraphrase shows that a different compositional principle
is at work. Indeed, one may argue that a text closer to B was available
to the Rabbis, but the compositional principle behind B is the same
GREENFIELD Ben Sira 42.9-10 & its Talmudk Paraphrase 171
as that of M.23 There is no longer a contrast between the two states

noted above, unmarried and married, but rather a progression of
ages: nuep, ninw, m:o, nwa, nrprn. This matches naop, rnitt, man,
riNiBU, rupt. Four of these are definite halakhic stages. The rtiCDp is a
child younger than twelve, the mw is limited to the age of twelve to
twelve and a half, the mjia is older than twelve and a half, and has
presumedly reached puberty. The HNitw is the married woman,
without implication of age, while the rupt, if the age sixty used of the
male is also true for the female, is a woman who would not be
normally involved in sexual activity. But if menopause is the
criterion, then the age would be lower, and would be an individual
matter. The term D^BBO is used in the broad sense of magic and, as is
well known, women, and especially older women, were frequently
accused of being witches in the ancient Near East and the classical
world, as well as in various modern societies. In its own right nipt is
not a halakhic category, but the death penalty was due witches (Exod.
22.17) and the father had good cause to worry.
I do not believe that the other quotations from Ben Sira extant in
rabbinic literature lend themselves to this sort of analysis but there is
no doubt that the student of Ben Sira must take them seriously.24
NOTES
* This paper has its origins in a seminar in Oxford led by Sebastian

Brock and Geza Vermes during Trinity term, 1987.
1. The most recent work on the subject is W.C. Trenchard, Ben Sira's
View of Women: A Literary Analysis, Chico, 1982, which has been critically
reviewed by A.A. Di Leila in CBQ 46 (1984), pp. 332-34 and C. Meyers,
BSOAS 47 (1984), pp. 339-40.
2. I agree with Smend, and most recently Di Leila, that 26.10-12 deals
with a wife and not a daughter. See Patrick W. Skehan and A.A. Di Lella,77ie
Wisdom of Ben Sira, New York, 1987, pp. 346-50.
3. They were first gathered by A.E. Cowley and A. Neubauer in The
Original Hebrew of a Portion of Ecclesiasticus, Oxford, 1897. The subject has
been dealt with extensively by M.H. Segal, The Complete Book of Ben Sira
[Hebrew], 2nd edition, Jerusalem, 1958, pp. 38-44, 66-68.
4. See the detailed discussion by Segal in Sefer Rab Sa'adya Ga'on,
Jerusalem, 1943, pp. 98-118.
5. See the excellent edition of Eli Yasif in his The Tales of Ben Sira in the
Middle Ages [Hebrew], Jerusalem, 1984, pp. 261-83.
6. I am indebted to Dr Chaim Milikowsky who checked the manuscript
readings of this Talmudic passage for me; they were remarkably without
variants.
7. Y. Yadin, The Ben Sira Scroll from Masada, Jerusalem, 1965, pp. 24-
25.
8. B and B Marg are in Cowley-Neubauer (above, n. 3). They are also
readily available in The Book of Ben Sira, Text, Concordance and an Analysis
of the Vocabulary [Hebrew], Jerusalem, 1973, p. 48.
9. J. Strugnell, 'Notes and Queries on the Ben Sira Scroll from Masada',
El 9 (1969), pp. 109-19, esp. 115b; S. Lieberman, 'Forgotten Meanings',
Leshonenu 32 (1968), p. 92 [Hebrew]; J. Baumgarten, 'Some Notes on the
Ben Sira Scroll from Masada',^/? (ns) 57 (1966-67), pp. 323-27; M. Kister,
'In the Margin of Ben Sira', Leshonenu 47 (1983), pp. 125-46, esp. 145-46
[Hebrew], as well as the commentary of SkehanDi Leila (above, n. 2) and
G. Sauer, Giitersloh, 1981.
10. Yadin, p. 24, col. a. The 'possible he1 that he detected after the putative
sin was probably part of the taw.
11. In Mishnaic Hebrew, beside the HJIDBD of the Ben Sira quotation, the
plural nvJIDBD is found. This may be the plural of DîDCpD as well as
rrqiatpp.
12. In 34.1 B has "ipt? and B Marg *lp{y. G's agrupnia and context support
Ipty as the correct reading there, but there can be no doubt that "ipty is the
correct reading here. See too M. Kister (above, n. 9), p. 145 n. 10. It is indeed
surprising that adherence to the reading of G may be found in Skehan-Di
Leila: 'A daughter is a treasure that keeps her father awake' (which is
virtually the same as the New American Bible). But how is one to explain
such curious translations as 'keeps her father secretly wakeful' (RSV), 'is a
secret anxiety' (NEB), 'Unknown to her, a daughter keeps her father awake'
(Jerusalem Bible), and the like in some other modern attempts? Hebrew is
not a cryptic tongue.
13. The restoration riDU Ttfl was proposed by J. Baumgarten, JQR (ns)
57 (1966-67), p. 326, and by P.W. Skehan, JBL 75 (1966), p. 260.
14. For this idiom see H. Yalon, Qunfresim I, Jerusalem, 1938, p. 7,and M.
Kister (above, n. 9), p. 145 n. 10.
15. The \trbparakmazein means 'to be past the prime'; its occurrence is
unique here in the Greek version of the Bible. Syriac tiStahe is 'will be
reviled, accused of sin' and, unless a different Hebrew text is assumed, this is
an interpretive translation.
16. Strugnell, p.H5b, has suggested iTÎH for rrÎD?* and has translated
this as 'when she is married', but a noun D^V2 is not known in either
Biblical or Mishnaic Hebrew, and is not a likely form. I am also not
convinced that the letter before the last is a yod.
17. Strugnell doubts the reading of the final he, but his suggested "i[XWi] is
not satisfactory at this point. S. Lieberman, Leshonenu 32 (1968), p. 92, has
proposed reading PlJtWl here with the meaning 'to be unfaithful, commit
GREENFIELD Ben Sira 42.9-10 & its Talmudic Paraphrase 173
adultery', but 'will be hated' better fills the needs of the context. Note too
that DND and NJty occur together in Amos 5.21. See also Kister (above, n. 9),
p. 143 n. 90. Lieberman refers to his remarks in Hellenism in Jewish
Palestine, New York, 1950, pp. 49f.; see also H. Yalon, Megillot Midbar
Yehudah, Jerusalem, 1967, pp. 104-105; Pirqe LaSon, Jerusalem, 1971,
pp. 151-54.
18. Syriac s?a, although meaning basically 'to commit folly', is used
especially of conjugal infidelity, as noted by Payne-Smith.
19. Applying Lieberman's suggestion concerning rtJKTi (above, n. 17) to
this line.
20. Note that in G lOc comes before lOb.
21. Note that B Marg reads ntriB 'she has fornicated'. I have dealt with TfiB
in Studies in the Bible and the Ancient Near East presented to S.E.
Loewenstamm, Jerusalem, 1978, pp. 35-40. Could B have read nJTH? Syriac
peters out here, but wetezal bdtar gabrd fyrena could reflect rtJTm, the lone
remnant of this line before the Syriac translator.
22. It is difficult to know why the Greek text has the order lOa-lOc, lOb-
lOd, unless one assumes that the order was unmarried-married in this
verse.
23. Kister has proposed (above, n. 9), p. 146, that the text available to the
Talmudic paraphraser followed the order ol the Greek, but this is not
convincing.
24. This article was completed before 1 was able to consult Milward D.
Nelson, The Syriac Version of the Wisdom of Ben Sira Compared to the Greek
and Hebrew Materials, Atlanta, 1988.
JACOB'S SECOND VISIT TO BETHEL
IN TARGUMPSEUDO-JONATHAN
C.T.R. Hayward
University of Durham
The contribution which Geza Vermes has made to the study of the
Aramaic Targumim needs no documentation. Indeed, he has been
intimately associated with the revival of scholarly interest in these
texts which began over forty years ago, and which shows few signs of
losing its impetus. In considering the relationships of the various
Pentateuchal Targumim to one another, Vermes has for long
suggested the possibility that Ps-Jon., either in its present or some
earlier form, constitutes the basis of Targum Onqelos: Ps-Jon. would
thus, in essence, preserve material of great antiquity, even though its
final redaction took place in the Islamic period. In recent years,
however, it has become fashionable amongst students of the
Targumim to regard Ps-Jon. as a late, literary composition, produced
in the Islamic period as an anti-Islamic polemic. It is seen as
depending on the Palestinian Targumim and late midrashic collections
like the Pirqe deRabbi Eliezer (PRE) for much of its exegetical
paraphrase, its language having been modified under the influence of
the 'official' and authoritative Targum Onqelos.1
In two articles which have been be published elsewhere, we have
argued that the case for a post-Islamic date for Ps-Jon. rests on very
shaky foundations, and that the simple dependence of Ps-Jon. on late
works like PRE is open to question.2 In this essay we shall attempt a
different kind of exercise, undertaking an analysis of a chapter in
which the Targum's exegesis is, in places, very much sui generis. Ps-
Jon. Gen. 35.1-15 has no points of contact with PRE, and Islam is
nowhere in view. Even though this is the case, certain features in the
text might seem, superficially, to indicate a late date. Whether such a
view may be sustained can only be determined by careful comparison
of Ps-Jon. with the other Targumim of Gen. 35 and with other

interpretations of the chapter. We shall attempt to relate Ps-JonSs
exegesis to that found in other sources, seeking, wherever possible, to
uncover its particular purpose. Only then will the character of the
Targum of this chapter begin to emerge, and some possible hints as to
its relative dating.
We begin with a close investigation of those verses which show
significant addition to, and alterations of, the Hebrew original, which
we indicate in our translations by the use of italics.
Verse 2
And Jacob said to the men of his house and to all who were with
him: Remove entirely the idols of the nations which are among you,
which you took from the idols' house of Shechem, and purify
yourselves from the impurities of the slaughtered men whom you
have touched^ and change your garments.
Following God's command that he go to Bethel and build an altar to
the One who appeared to him when he fled from his brother (Gen.
35.1), Jacob orders his entourage to dispose of foreign gods and to
purify themselves. The Bible clearly links Jacob's second visit to
Bethel with his previous journey recorded in Gen. 28 and, as we shall
see, Ps-Jon. of Gen. 35.7 is keen to do the same. The Bible gives as a
reason for this second visit Jacob's desire to build the altar to the God
who answered him when he was in distress and who was with him;
the Targumim follow suit.3 The Midrashim, however, discuss the
vow which Jacob had made on his first visit to Bethel (Gen. 28.20-
22), and note that he had not fulfilled it; like the pre-Christian book
of Jubilees, they warn against delay in carrying out vows, and present
Jacob's return to Bethel as necessary for the vow's completion.4
Such lack of interest in the matter of vows on the part of the
Targumim serves to underline their evident concern with the
business of foreign gods. Ps-Jon. renders the Hebrew expression 'Ihy
hnkr as 'the idols of the nations (or: Gentiles)', as does Onqelos (TO);
Neofiti (TN) speaks of idolatry, and its censored marginal gloss (Ngl)
probably refers to images of idols. At a very early period the question
of the origin of these idols arose: Jubilees states that they were the
property of Laban which had been with Jacob's family since he had
fled from his father-in-law, and some later sources agree with this.5
But Ps-Jon. is quite specific in saying that they came from Shechem,
HAYWARD Jacob's Second Visit to Bethel 111
in particular from the house of idols which was there. Indeed, this
Targum goes out of its way to stress Shechem as their home, as may
be seen in its rendering of v. 4.
Verse 4
So they gave over into the hand of Jacob all the idols of the nations
which were among them, which they had taken from the idols' house
of Shechem, and the rings which were in the ears of the inhabitants
of the city of Shechem, on which were depicted the likeness of its
image; and Jacob hid them under the oak which is near to the city of
Shechem.
One immediate effect ofPs-Jon's. exegesis is to establish a firm link
between Jacob's second visit to Bethel and the events of the
preceding chapter, which tells of the notorious attack on Shechem by
Simeon and Levi. The Targumim of Gen. 34.31 leave one in no doubt
that Shechem was full of idol-worshippers; indeed, Simeon and Levi
give this as a reason for their action on behalf of their sister Dinah.6
Ps-Jon. appears to assume what Rashi later states openly, that the
idols came into Jacob's possession as part of the spoils of the
victorious war against Shechem.7 The Targum reinforces this
understanding by speaking further of the purification needed after
contact with the bodies of those killed in the battle.
The idols, then, are not some family heirloom, but plunder taken
from a city which has a 'house of idols', byt t'wwt. This expression is
used only here in the whole of Ps-Jon., and suggests that the Targum
regarded Shechem as having once been a supreme metropolis of
paganism. Even the earrings of its inhabitants are idolatrous; and the
abominations are there to this very day, albeit buried by Jacob under
an oak tree near to the city. The meaning of this is evident, in that Ps-
Jon. is heaping calumnies on the people who regard Shechem and
nearby Mount Gerizim as a holy place. These are the Samaritans;
they are not directly called idolaters, since the idols have been
removed. But they are the object of contempt; and the Targum's
strong language must, presumably, have been forged at a time when
relations between Jews and Samaritans were more than usually
strained.
Ps-Jon. is fairly precise about the kind of idols which were buried.
They are the statues which had been kept in the idol-house, and ear-
rings painted with the likeness of what, one may presume, were the
same statues. This precision contrasts, to some extent, with the

rather general terms in which the Talmud and Midrash speak of what
Jacob buried. Thus Talmud Yerushalmi Avodah Zarah 1.5A has R.
Ishmael tell in the name of R. Jose how he went to Neapolis and
encountered the Kuthim, the Samaritans.
He said to them: I see you, that you do not worship (at) this
mountain, but rather the images which are under it, for it is
written, 'And Jacob hid them (the foreign gods) under the terebinth
which is with Shechem'.8
The text goes on to tell how the Rabbi heard the Kuthim plotting to
kill him, so he fled from the city. Similarly, in Gen. R. 81.4 R.
Ishmael, again in the name of R. Jose, takes one of the Samaritans
[hd smryy] to task as he passes by the 'Palatines', the site of the
Samaritan temple on Mount Gerizim:
I say to you, Why are you like a dog which has a passion for carrion
[nblh]? It is so, since you know that idolatry is hidden beneath it:
'and Jacob hid them...' (Gen. 35.4). That is why you have a
passion for it.
From the first century CE we have the testimony of the Liber
Antiquitatum Biblicarum, falsely attributed to Philo, which indicates
a strong tradition of idols buried in the vicinity of Shechem. The
tribe of Asher, asked by Cenez to reveal their wrong-doings,
announce:
We found seven golden images which the Amorites called holy
nymphs, and we carried them off with the most precious stones
which had been put on them, and we hid those things. And now
behold: they have been laid down under the summit of mount
Sichem.9
Earlier in the same section of the LAB, the tribe of Naphtali say that
they wish to make what the Amorites made, and that these things are
hidden under the tent of Elas, a Latin transcription of the Hebrew
Elah ['lh]y the oak or terebinth, probably a covert reference to the
terebinth of Gen. 35.4.10 According to LAB, all these items were
deposited later than the time of Jacob, in the period of the Judges;
and they are a powerful means of bringing into disrepute the cult
which was offered at Shechem. Indeed, anti-Samaritan polemic has
long been recognized, at least by some authorities, as an element in
the LAB's general programme.11
HAY WARD Jacob's Second Visit to Bethel 179
While the LAB seems to refer only in passing to the events of Gen.
35, it is nonetheless illuminating in two respects. First, it shows that
by the first century CE the idolatrous cache in and near Shechem had
become part of a general anti-Samaritan polemic. Second, the idols
themselves are described in some detail as nymphs; and Bogaert has
suggested that this designation may have arisen from confusion of
the word byt 'I, baetyl, sacred stone, with Hebrew btwlh or Aramaic
btwlt\ virgin, nymph. In any case, statues or figurines are, it seems,
presupposed, and it may be that LAB is in fact expounding the text of
Gen. 35.4 in a discreet and indirect manner.12
Given the Jewish material at our disposal, it is not easy to see what
light it may cast on Ps-Jon.'s exegesis of these two verses. The view
that Shechem was the original home of the idols is found again at
the earliest in Rashi's commentary on v. 2. The LAB, while
indicating that idolatrous statues and figurines were buried at
Shechem, offers no real help, since the burials are not directly
associated with Jacob. We might, therefore, be tempted to conclude
that Ps-Jon. presents us with late and largely unparalleled musings
on the text of these two verses.
Such a conclusion, however, would be both hasty and intemperate.
For if we extend our investigations beyond Rabbinic and pre-
Rabbinic Judaism, into the writings of the early Church Fathers, we
shall find three authors who offer vital evidence for the history of
exegesis of these verses. First is Procopius of Gaza (c. 456-c. 538 CE),
who lived and worked in the land of Israel, and who thus had access
to Jewish exegetical traditions. Commenting on Gen. 35.2, he
explains that the foreign gods were not only those which Rachel had
taken from Laban, but also those captured from the Shechemites.
Thus he demonstrates the currency in his day both of the pre-
Christian tradition that the idols were Laban's and the notion that
the gods were booty from the sacked city of Shechem.13
Second, we have the evidence of John Chrysostom (c. 347-407 CE)
that the ear-rings described in Gen. 35.4 were signs of the idols.14
More detailed, however, is the third authority, Augustine of Hippo
(354-430 CE), who not only describes the ear-rings as phylacteries of
idols, but also tells how the pagans of his own day wore such
ornaments in the service of their gods, a practice which he castigates
as a superstition and the service of demons.15
Ps-Jon. 's exegesis is not, therefore, quite so out of the ordinary as it
may at first appear: two important elements in it are attested by
Christian writers of the fourth and fifth centuries CE. To this we may
add a general observation, that Islam would soon have eradicated the
use and the memory of idolatrous ear-rings; and the coincidence of
Ps-Jon. with Christian writers on the nature of these ornaments may
indeed be a pointer to the pre-Islamic date of the exegesis. The
powerful anti-Shechemite, that is, anti-Samaritan stance of Ps-Jon.
shares more, in broad and general terms, with the LAB than with the
Yerushalmi and Genesis Rabbah. The latter sources, nonetheless, are
hostile to Shechem, and, like Ps-Jon., think it worthwhile to heap
contempt on that place of worship. Hostility of such a kind would
make good historical sense earlier than the reign of Justinian who, in
the year 529 CE, inflicted a heavy defeat on the Samaritans.16 Their
recovery from that blow was very slow, and thereafter they seem not
to have threatened Jewish religious sensibilities as in the preceding
period. With some degree of confidence, then, we may provisionally
suggest a pre-Islamic date for Ps-Jon.'s interpretation of Gen. 35.2, 4.
Verse 5
So they journeyed from there, giving thanks and praying before the
Lord, and there was trembling from before the Lord upon the
nations who were in the cities round about them; and they did not
pursue the sons of Jacob.
In this verse, Ps-Jon. links hands with old and well-established
interpretations found in Jewish texts from before the Christian
period. Jub. 30.25 specifies that it was the Lord's terror in particular,
and that it fell on the cites surrounding Shechem, a significant note
given Ps-JonSs interest in that city. The terror of the Lord also
features in other, later works, and came to be elaborately expounded
in such a way that some sources speak of Israel's full-scale victories
over the Gentiles.17 Ps-Jon. does not allude to these tales, and its
sober exegesis is in keeping with the restrained language of Jubilees
as it re-writes this verse.
Verse 7
And he built there an altar, and called the place El who caused his
Shekhina to dwell in Bethel; for there the angels of the Lord had
been revealed to him when he had fled from before Esau his
brother.
Ps-Jon. here directly recalls Jacob's first visit to Bethel recorded in

Genesis 28. There the angels are a biblical datum (Gen. 28.12); and
the Fragment Targum likewise recalls their presence.18 The mention
of God's Shekhina as dwelling in Bethel is intended to remind us that
Bethel has already been identified as the place of the Temple: so
much is made clear in Ps-Jon. Gen. 28.11, 12, 17, 19 and 22. The
Targum's intention is to indicate the consistency and unity of the
biblical revelation.
Neither TN nor its marginal gloss (Ngl), however, refers to the
angels; nor do they allude to the dwelling of the Shekhina in Bethel.
According to the latter, Jacob set up an altar
and worshipped and prayed there in the Name of the Word of the
Lord, the God who had appeared to him in Bethel; for there the
Glory of the Shekhina of the Lord had been revealed to him at the
time when he had fled from before Esau.
The interpretation of this verse in the Targumic tradition has been
well discussed by Andrew Chester, who notes the use made of it by
the minim and the concerns of Rabbinic authority to counteract the
heresy of the 'two powers in heaven'. The Ngl, quoted above, firmly
rules out any possible heretical use of the verse.19 Chester, however,
remains undecided whether Ps-Jon. here represents a further
development of basic Targumic tradition, or an early tradition of an
angelophany.20 Whatever concern Ps-Jon. may have felt about
heresy, if indeed any was felt at all, it seems that its essential purpose
is to assert, above all else, that Jacob's visit was a return to the very
place of his original vision. Why this should be so will, we hope,
become clear when we examine the strongly cultic interpretations of
w. 11 and 14.
Verse 8
Then died Deborah, the tutor of Rebekah and she was buried
beneath Bethel in the extremity of the plain. And there the news was
also told to Jacob about the death of his mother Rebekah; so he
called its name 'Other Weeping'.
That the news of his mother's death reached Jacob at this point is a
well-known and widespread tradition, represented not only by the
Fragment Targums (FT), but also by Gen. R. 81.8 and other
midrashic sources.21 The Bible does not report Rebekah's death; but
from the first century CE at the latest it was believed that it had
happened during Jacob's second visit to Bethel: so much is plain
from Josephus's statement that, on his arrival in Hebron, Jacob
found that she had died.22 Since, by this exegesis, two deaths are
involved, Ps-Jon. joins with the Midrashim in expounding the
Hebrew Vn, oak, as if it were Greek allon, other.23
Verse 9
And the Lord was revealed to Jacob again when he came from
Paddan of Aram, and the Lord blessed (him) in the Name of His
Word after his mother had died.
This interpretation is remarkable for its failure to cite an extended
paraphrase, found in TN and the Fragment Targums, which Lists
God's blessing of bride and groom in the persons of Adam and Eve;
his visiting the sick in the case of Abraham; and his blessing of the
mourners, exemplified by this verse, which seemingly acts as the
Biblical springboard for the exegesis.24 It has been argued that a
piyyuf of Yannai on these same themes may be dependent on the
Targumim (except, of course, Ps-Jon.) of this verse; so those
Targumim would represent a fairly early liturgical composition.25 Ps-
Jon. does, however, record what some regard as a similar paraphrase
at Deut. 34.6 in a form more extended than that found in the
Targumim of Gen. 35.9. For this reason, we may venture two brief
comments.
First, Shinan has argued that Ps-Jon. characteristically moves
haggadic material from verses to which it properly belongs, as
attested by the other Pentateuchal Targumim, to other verses of its
own choosing. Such behaviour is, he believes, evidence of the late,
literary, and secondary artificial nature of the Targum.26 Ps-Jon. 's
treatment of Gen. 35.9, therefore, indicates the late date of the
Targum. Against Shinan, however, it is possible to bring evidence to
show that Ps-Jon.'s version of Deut. 34.6 is the original form and
location of the paraphrase, and recently Chester has shown how this
may be done. But he does not find such evidence entirely convincing,
and regards the originality of Ps-Jon. simply as a possibility.27
One could, however, add to the evidence which Chester uses such
that the character of Ps-Jon. of Deut. 34.6 becomes much more
clearly defined. It is noticeable that both Shinan and Chester stop
short of detailed comparison and analysis of the relevant texts. Thus
they fail to note how Ps-Jon. is concerned to list six good deeds held
in high esteem by Jews, which are nevertheless not specifically
commanded by Scripture. These are the clothing of the naked, the
joining of bridegroom and bride, visiting the sick, comforting
mourners, provision for the poor, and the burial of the dead. From
very early times all these actions were viewed as obligatory for pious
Jews; indeed, one need only consider texts like Tobit 1.16-18; 4.12,
16-17. The wish to root them in Scripture, then, would be natural
and compelling. Ps-Jon. does that very thing, showing how God
taught them not by a verbal commandment, but by his actions. The
thrust of the paraphrase in TAT, A/g/, the Geniza Manuscripts (GM)
and FT is quite different, having a strongly liturgical character not
found in Ps-Jon., and a tendency, beginning in TN and gathering
force in FT and GM, to provide explicit Scriptural proof-texts for
God's actions. It is thus possible to argue that the paraphrase in Ps-
Jon.is related only superficially, or even not at all, to the paraphrases
in TN and the other Targumim.28 If such be the case, there is then
little likelihood that Ps-Jon. moved a tradition from its rightful place
in Gen. 35.9, and Shinan's observations based on this suggested
transfer of texts have to be evaluated accordingly.
Second, a long paraphrase of the sort found in TN fits uneasily
with the overall aims and objectives of Ps-Jon. in this chapter. As we
shall see in the next verse, those aims are quite specific, and may
have their roots in very ancient preoccupations indeed.
Verse 11
And the Lord said to him: I am El Shaddai. Grow and multiply. A
holy nation and an assembly of prophets and priests shall be from
your sons which you shall beget', and again, two kings shall go forth
from you.
Comparison of this verse with the interpretations of the other
Targumim will, we believe, highlight the peculiar concerns and
ultimate purpose ofPs-Jon.'s exegesis of the whole of this chapter. In
the Hebrew original God's promise to Jacob's consists of two parts: a
nation and a congregation of nations (gwy wqhl gwyni) will come
from him; and kings shall issue from his loins. Ps-JonSs rendering of
the first promise as referring to a holy nation and an assembly of
prophets and priests is unique among the Pentateuchal Targumim.
TO speaks of a people and an assembly of tribes, echoing thereby its
own exegesis of the similar divine promise in Gen. 28.3. Ps-Jon. of

the latter verse also takes up the theme of the tribes, and, along with
TO, does so again at Gen. 48.4. That God's promise referred to the
future tribes is a view found also in a number of midrashim.29 TN of
Gen. 35.11, however, promises that an assembly of righteous peoples
shall arise from Jacob, repeating here its exegesis of Gen. 28.3 and
paving the way for its identical rendering of Gen. 48.4. FT of Gen.
35.11 and 48.4, however, speaks only of assemblies of many
crowds.30
The second part of the promise Ps-Jon. understands as referring to
two kings, thus in a general way joining hands with those Midrashim
which name two particular royal individuals.31 TO, TN, and the FT,
however, speak of kings who shall rule over the nations as issuing
from Jacob; thus these Targumim allude to their identical interpretation
of earlier divine promises set out clearly in their versions of Gen. 17.6
and 16, verses where Ps-Jon. as well speaks of kings who shall rule
over the nations destined to issue from Abraham.32
Leaving aside for the time being Ps-Jon. of Gen. 35.11 and its
peculiarities, we should note that the general Targumic tradition of
exegesis of all these verses is potentially very old, essential elements
within it being clearly represented in the book of Jubilees. Thus, in
re-writing Gen. 28.3, Jub. 25.3 promises to Jacob a righteous
progeny, as does 7!/V; and the idea that his descendants will rule the
nations is asserted with some directness in Jub. 32.18-19 in much the
same way as in the Targumim of Gen. 17.6, 16; 35.11. In all these
texts there is the hope of Israelite political power, which finds its
most natural setting before the tragedy of the Second Revolt against
Rome.33
Ps-Jon. of Gen. 35.11, however, looks not to Israel's rule over the
nations, nor to righteous peoples and tribal groups. Its language
clearly recalls God's command of Exod. 19.6, that Israel shall be for
him a kingdom of priests and a holy nation, interpreted there by Ps-
Jon. to mean that Israel shall be kings binding on the crown and
ministering priests and a holy nation.34 And Ps-Jon.'s description of
Jacob's progeny follows immediately the Scriptural verse (Gen.
35.10) which tells how God had changed the Patriarch's name to
Israel, a fact which Ps-Jon. reports without any exegetical elaboration.
The Targum here stands side by side with Philo, who remarks that
Jacob, prepared by the angels of reason for struggle with the passions,
is the source of the twelve tribes whom Scripture calls a royal house
and a priesthood of God (De Sobrietate 65-66). We should note also

most particularly that Philo clearly associates the change of Jacob's
name to Israel with the description of the nation in Exod. 19.6 as a
royal house, a priesthood, and a holy nation (De Abrahamo 56).
Philo's direct linking of Exod. 19.6 with the patriarch Jacob and his
descendants is remarkable, and points to the antiquity of Ps-Jon.^
exegesis of Gen. 35.11, an exegesis not represented elsewhere in
rabbinic literature.
In fact, Ps-Jon. of Gen. 35.11 sets out to anticipate the setting up of
Israel's formal structures of lawful government and worship. The
prophets belong to the very same structures, as Ps-Jon. of Deut.
18.14 explains, contrasting Israel with other nations:
For these people whom you are about to dispossess pay attention to
deceivers of the eye and practisers of divination; but you are not like
them. Rather, priests consulting Urim and Thummim and upright
prophets the Lord your God has given you.
Ps-Jon. of Exod. 33.16 also shows how Israel's possession of the spirit
of prophecy differentiates it from the nations of the world:
And by what means shall it be known that I have found mercy
before you, except when your Shekhina speaks with us, and miracles
are done for us when you take up the spirit of prophecy from upon the
nations, and when you speak in the Holy Spirit to me and to your
people, so that we are different from all the peoples who are on the
face of the earth?
It should be evident that, since Ps-Jon. has been content elsewhere to
speak of future Israelite kings ruling over the nations, its interpretation
of this verse is not dictated by the possible disappearance in its day of
Israel's political hopes for the future. On the contrary, its exegesis
seems to be determined by an ancient tradition that circumstances
surrounding Jacob's second visit to Bethel led to the choice of Levi
for the high priesthood and the blessing of Judah as a royal prince.
This can be properly appreciated on examination of what follows.
Verse 14
And he set up there a pillar in the place where He had spoken with
him, a pillar of stone; and he poured a libation upon it, a libation of
wine and a libation of water: for thus his sons are destined to do on
the Feast of Tabernacles; and he poured out upon it olive oil.
This verse receives very little attention in rabbinic literature.35 The

ritual of Sukkoth as required by rabbinic law, not by the written
Torah, is explicitly described (cf. m. Sukkoth 4.9), and Ps-Jon. fixes
the incident in relation to this Feast; Jub. 32.3-29 likewise places this,
and a whole complex of related events, at Sukkoth.
At the end of the last century, Adolf Biichler listed numerous
points of contact between Jubilees and Ps-Jon. in matters of cultic
and priestly law and traditions.36 Much more recently, Joshua
Schwarz has carefully analysed Jubilees 31-32, and has concluded
that its traditions of Jacob's cultic activity during his second visit to
Bethel were possibly known to the Rabbis, although in garbled form.
Thus he specifically notes that Ps-Jon. of Gen. 35.14 refers, like
Jubilees, to Sukkoth.37 Points of contact between aspects of the
Jubilees tradition and Ps-Jon. should not, therefore, surprise us. It
seems to us that such contact does exist; although it should be made
clear at once that Ps-Jon. of Genesis 35 is far from being directly
dependent on Jubilees. The relationship between the traditions
recorded in the two texts is much more complex. Thus, while there
are major areas of agreement between the two texts, they also diverge
at various key points. We must now turn to fuller discussion of these
matters.
What Ps-Jon. shares with Jubilees is substantial. The events
surrounding Jacob's second visit to Bethel take place at Sukkoth;
during this period, Jubilees relates that Levi was chosen in heaven for
the high-priesthood (30.18-20) because of his right conduct in
sacking Shechem (30.1-17). Ps-Jon's comment that priests would
come forth from Jacob is in line with this general tradition, as is his
reference to the kings; in Jubilees, Isaac blesses not only the future
tribe of Levi as priests, judges, and rulers, but also Judah as a prince,
as well as one of his sons (31.5-20).
While both Ps-Jon. and Jubilees stress the link between the attack
on Shechem and Jacob's visit to Bethel, the nature of the link is by no
means the same in both sources. Here Ps-Jon.'s insistence that the
idols removed by Jacob were of Shechemite origin finds no place in
Jubilees, which says nothing of Shechemite idolatry. In this respect,
Jubilees tallies with other pre-Christian sources.38 So far as I am
aware, the earliest datable written source which makes polemical use
of the idols hidden at Shechem is the first-century CE Liber
Antiquitatum Biblicarum. Further, in re-writing Genesis 35 and the
surrounding chapters, Jubilees says nothing about prophets as a
major constituency in Israel along with kings and priests.39 Neither

does Ps-Jon. refer to Jacob's visit to his father Isaac at this time, a
prominent feature of the narrative injub. 31.5-30.
Some tentative conclusions and suggestions may now be offered.
Much of what we have examined may be explained if we are
prepared to envisage Ps-Jon. as engaged in an attack on the
Samaritan community based at Shechem. Taking the outlines of a
very old exegesis on Genesis 35 of the kind extant in Jubilees, the Targum
re-arranges them in order to deal with a new situation. It emphasizes
the Shechemite origin of the idols still buried in the vicinity of the
mountain, and goes on to assert that at Bethel, which it is careful to
identify with the Jerusalem Temple on Mount Zion, God promised
that kings and priests and prophets would come forth from Jacob.
This happened at the Feast of Sukkoth, whose ritual is described in
terms explicitly required by rabbinic law: libations of wine are
accompanied by water libations, the latter not demanded by the
written Torah, so that they became a notorious bone of contention
among Jewish groups.40
The promise of a future legitimate priesthood is firmly located in
Jerusalem: the localization of the promise in Bethel-Jerusalem is
significant, in view of the Samaritans' claim to possess the true
priesthood ministering on Mount Gerizim, and their contention that
the Jewish priesthood originated improperly in Eli's unlawful
migration from Shechem to Shiloh, where he set up a false sanctuary
in the days of the Judges.41 Furthermore, Ps-Jon. says that there will
be prophets arising from Jacob's sons in the future, a telling
prediction given the Samaritans' rejection both of the prophets who
succeeded Moses and of the sacred books ascribed to them. About the
identity of the kings to come forth from Jacob Ps-Jon. is discreetly
vague, avoiding the names of the northerners Jeroboam and Jehu
suggested by some midrashim.42 And it may also be that the
Targum's interpretation of Migdal-Eder, to which Jacob eventually
repairs (Gen. 35.21), as
the place from where the King Messiah is to be revealed at the end of
days
is intended to put the Messianic hopes of Israel firmly in the tribal
area of Judah and outside the sphere of the territories once occupied
by Ephraim, Manasseh, and the other Northern tribes.43
The apparently anti-Samaritan nature of the Targum's interpretation
of these verses is therefore quite strongly marked, and is directed at a

number of fundamental beliefs and practices over which Jews and
Samaritans were in profound disagreement. Ps-Jon. seems to have a
very negative view of Shechem and, by implication, the mountain of
Gerizim, which the Samaritans hold to be the site of the legitimate
temple. As we have already hinted, a time before 529 CE would best
account for Ps-Jon.'s exegetical furniture and attitudes: a date in the
Islamic period seems to us extremely improbable, considering the
weakened state of Samaritanism at that time. This last point is
strengthened by the Targum's familiarity with interpretations of
individual verses found in Jubilees and Philo, but absent from the
Rabbinic commentaries.44 We have also seen that Ps-Jon.'s failure to
insert the long paraphrase found in TN and other Targumim at v.
9 does not afford solid grounds for a late dating of the text. Similarly,
items which might at first blush appear post-Islamic in date, such as
the identification of the idols as of Shechemite origin, turn out on
examination to have good pre-Islamic credentials. Without offering a
precise date for Ps-Jon'sinterpretation of these verses, we may
nevertheless conclude that we are dealing with material deriving
from pre-Islamic times. It is possible, indeed, that the sharpness of
the polemic against Shechem originated in some specific event or
series of events; and the major Samaritan religious revival in the
fourth century CE associated with the names of Marqah and Baba
Rabba would no doubt have called forth some Jewish protest, of
which Ps-Jon. to Gen. 35.1-15 may have been a part.45
To determine precisely how much older than the seventh century
the text here considered might be is a task for those who, like Geza
Vermes, are concerned to chart the history of Jewish exegesis through
its many and varied stages of development. This essay is presented to
him in grateful acknowledgment of his major contribution to Jewish
studies, in thanks for his friendship, and with good wishes for his
happiness in the coming years: may they be many and prosperous.
NOTES
The following editions of Targumim of the Pentateuch have been used: E.G.
Clarke, in collaboration with W.E. Aufrecht, J.C. Hurd, and F. Spitzer,
Targum Pseudo-Jonathan of the Pentateuch: Text and Concordance, New
York: Ktav, 1984 (Ps-Jon.}; A. Sperber, The Bible in Aramaic, vol. 1, The
Pentateuch according to Targum Onkelos, Leiden: Brill, 1959 (TO); A. Diez

Macho, Ms. Neophyti I, 5 vols. Madrid-Barcelona, 1968-1978 (TN); M.L.
Klein, The Fragment Targums of the Pentateuch according to their extant
Sources, 2 vols., Rome, 1980 (FT); Geniza Manuscripts of Palestinian
Targum, 2 vols., Cincinnati, 1986 (GAf).
1. See G. Vermes, 'The Targumic Versions of Genesis 4.3-16', Annual of
the Leeds University Oriental Society 3 (1961-1962), pp. 81-114, reprinted in
Post-Biblical Jewish Studies, Leiden: Brill, 1975, pp. 92-126. The notion that
Ps-Jon. is an anti-Islamic polemic was argued by M. Ghana, 'La Polmique
judeo-islamique et 1'image d'Ismael dans Targum Pseudo-Jonathan et dans
Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer', Augustinianum 15 (1975), pp. 367-87. The consequent
late date of the Targum is argued by A. Shinan, The Aggadah in the Aramaic
Targums to the Pentateuch, 2 vols., Jerusalem, 1979 [in Hebrew]; 'The
"Palestinian" TargumsRepetition, Internal Unity, Contradictions', JJS36
(1985), pp. 72-87; D.M. Splansky, Targum Pseudo-Jonathan: Its Relationship
to Other Targumim, Use of Midrashim, and Date (unpublished dissertation,
Hebrew Union CollegeJewish Institute of Religion, 1981); and A.N. Chester,
Divine Revelation and Divine Titles in the Pentateuchal Targumim, Tubingen,
1986, pp. 252-56.
2. 'Targum Pseudo-Jonathan and Anti-Islamic Polemic', JSS 34 (1989),
pp. 77-93; and 'The Date of Targum Pseudo-Jonathan: Some Comments',
JJS 40 (1989), pp. 7-30.
3. See Gen. 35.1, 2. In Ps-Jon. of v. 3 Jacob plans to build an altar 'to
God who received my prayer on the day of my distress, and whose word has
been for my help on the journey which I have made', thereby referring back
to his vow recorded in Gen. 28.20. In the latter verse, Ps-Jon. has Jacob make
his vow conditional upon God's keeping him free of idolatry (inter alia); cf.
Gen. R. 70.4 (ed. J. Theodor and Ch. Albeck, Berlin, 1903-1936), and
Tanhuma WayyiSlah 8.
4. See>&. 31.29; Gen. R. 81.1; .y. Nedarim 1.1; Tanhuma WayyiSlah 8.
5. See Jub. 31.2; Midrash Sekhel Tov to this verse cited by M. Kasher,
Torah Shelemah, vol. 5, Jerusalem, 1935, p. 1337.
6. See Ps-Jon. of Gen. 34.31, where Simeon and Levi assert that it would
not be proper for Israelites to say that uncircumcised and idolaters had
defiled Jacob's daughter; and cf. TN, its marginal gloss (Ngl), and FT of this
verse.
7. See Rashi on Gen. 35.2, and cf. Midrash Ha-Hephetz cited by Kasher,
op. cit., p. 1337.
8. Quoted by Kasher, op. cit., p. 1340.
9. LAB 25.10. For recent discussion of LAB's date, see E. Schxirer, The
History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ, vol. III.l, rev. and ed.
G. Vermes, F. Millar, and M. Goodman, Edinburgh, 1986. We have used the
text of LAB edited by DJ. Harrington, Pseudo-Philon. Les Antiquites
Bibliques, vol. 1 (Sources Chretiennes, 229), Paris, 1976.
10. LAB 25.8. On these passages, see the important comments of C.

Perrot, P.-M. Bogaert, and D J. Harrington in Pseudo-Philon. Les Antiquites
Bibliques, vol. 2 (Sources Chretiennes, 230), Paris, 1976, pp. 152, 154-56.
M.F. Collins, "The Hidden Vessels in Samaritan Traditions', JSJ 3 (1972),
pp. 114-15, suggests that the material which we have quoted from the Rabbis
and LAB may have been a direct response to Samaritan claims that sacred
vessels of their cult had been buried by Moses on Mount Gerizim.
11. See especially A. Spiro, 'Samaritans, Tobiads, and Judahites in Pseudo-
Philo: Use and Abuse of the Bible by Polemicists and Doctrinaires', PAAJR
20 (1951), pp. 279-355; A. Zeron, 'Einige Bemerkungen zu M.F. Collins, The
Hidden Vessels in Samaritan Tradition', JSJ 4 (1973), pp. 165-69; and the
considered views of Bogaert and Harrington, Pseudo-Philon, vol. 2, p. 29,
who quote Vermes, 'La Figure de Moi'se au tournant des deux Testaments',
Cahiers Sioniens 8 (1954), p. 89, Unking LAB's polemic with that of the
Targumim.
12. See Pseudo-Philon, vol. 2, pp. 154-55.
13. Procopius of Gaza, Commentarii in Genesim 35.2 in PG LXXXVII
Part 1 (Paris, 1865), section 184. Cf. also Epiphanius, Panarion Haer. 9.2.4, who
describes the Samaritans as unwitting idolaters, since the idols of four
nations are concealed on Gerizim.
14. John Chrysostom on Gen. 35.1-6 in Homily LIX.4.
15. Augustine, Quaestionum S. Augustini in Heptateuchum I.cxi: Ergo
illae inaures quaecum idolis datae sunt, ut dictum est, idolorum phylacteria
fiierunt; cf. Epistle ccxlv.2.
16. On the revolts of the Samaritans in Justinian's reign, and earlier
rebellions quelled by Rome, see M. Avi-Yonah, The Jews of Palestine: A
Political History from the Bar Kokhba War to the Arab Conquest, Oxford,
1976, pp. 214-43.
17. See the treatment of this in Yalquf Shim'oni, Midrash Wdyyissa'u, and
other texts quoted in full by Kasher, op. cit., pp. 1341-45.
18. So FT according to Mss. Paris 110 and Vat 440 of Gen. 28.12.
19. See A. Chester, Divine Revelation, pp. 23-27.
20. Chester, op. cit., p. 27.
21. TO, TN, and Nglmake no mention of her death, which is recorded by
FT Ms. Paris 110 of the following verse. The Targum of Geniza Ms. C to this
verse is very close to Ps-Jon.; see Klein, GM, vol. 1, p. 75; and cf. Pesiqta
Rabbati 12.4; Pesiqta deRab Kahana 3.1; Kasher, op. cit., p. 1347.
22. See Josephus, Antiquities 1.345.
23. Cf. R. le Deaut, Targum du Pentateuque, vol. 1. Genese (Sources
Chretiennes, 245), Paris, 1978, p. 325.
24. See Gen. R. 81-5 (R. Aha in the name of R. Jonathan).
25. See M. Zulay, Zur Liturgie der babylonischen Juden, Stuttgart, 1933,
pp. 63-65; A. Shinan, The Aggadah, vol. 1, pp. 69-70, 117; vol. 2, pp. 235,
305; and Chester, op. cit., pp. 39-45.
26. See Shinan, The Aggadah, vol. 1, pp. 155-60.

27. See Chester, op. tit., p. 45.
28. Even where items listed by Ps-Jon. agree with those in TN and FT,
there are clear differences between the paraphrases. TN speaks of the blessing
of bride and groom and God's blessing of Jacob as a mourner; it uses the
stock phrases 'our father Abraham', 'our father Jacob'; and it attempts to use
Gen. 35.9 as a proof text, an attempt carried further by Ngl and FT. None of
these things appears in Ps-Jon., whose lack of liturgical interest only
strengthens the halakhic value of his paraphrase. He has the angels present
at the burial of Moses: with this, compare the presence of the archangel
Raphael when Tobit buried the dead (Tob. 12.13).
29. The reasons for this are set out in Pesiqta Rabbati 3.4; Eykhah Rabbah
Petichta 33. Gen. R. 82.4 refers gwy to Benjamin and qhl gwym to Ephraim
and Manasseh. But Ps-Jon. does not allude to this, and seems unaware of the
problems which prompted the exegesis.
30. See also Klein, GAf, vol. l,p. 75, for the same interpretation.
31. They are variously identified: in Gen. R. 82.4, R. Berekhiah and R.
Helbo in the name of R. Samuel b. Nahman state that they are Jeroboam and
Jehu; but the Rabbis understand them to be Saul and Ish-bosheth. See
further Kasher, op. cit., p. 1352.
32. This departure of Ps-Jon. of Gen. 35.11 from the common Targumic
understanding is thus all the more striking.
33. Notice how TN, using the root tqp, has God say to Abraham, 'I will
make you exceedingly powerful' for the Hebrew 1 will make you fruitful' at
Gen. 17.6. It uses tqp again at Gen. 28.3; 35.11; and 48.4; with the last two
verses, cf. also Klein, GAf, vol. 1, pp. 75, 151.
34. For further comment on this and what follows, see J. Potin, La Fete
Juive de la Pentecote, vol. 1, Paris, 1971, pp. 207-26.
35. See A. Hyman, Sefer Tor ah Haketubah Vehamessurah,2nd edn rev. by
A.B. Hyman, vol. 1, Tel-Aviv, 1979, p. 67; and Kasher, op. cit., p. 1355.
36. See A. Biichler, Die Priester und der Cultus im letzten Jahrzehnt des
jeruschalmischen Tempels, Vienna, 1895, pp. 151-59.
37. See J. Schwarz, 'Jubilees, Bethel, and the Temple of Jacob', HUCA 56
(1985), pp. 63-86, especially p. 84.
38. Idolatry does not feature in the condemnations of Shechem found in
Ben Sira 50.26; Test. Levi 7.1-4; or Theodotus, Fragment 7 in Alexander
Polyhistor apud Eusebius, Praeparatio Evangelica 9.22.9. See also R.J.
Coggins, Samaritans and Jews, Oxford, 1975, pp. 91-93.
39. In this respect, cf. 1 Clement 31.4-32.2, which speaks of the dignity of
Jacob, noting that all the priests and Levites who serve the altar come from
him, as do the Christ according to the flesh, and the kings, rulers and leaders
who arise from Judah. In the preceding section (31.3), Clement has referred
to the sacrifice of Isaac, and shows knowledge of Jewish exegesis of Genesis
22 by stating that Isaac went willingly and knowingly to be sacrificed. It is
thus possible that his treatment of Jacob owes something to Jewish opinion
current in his day.
40. See R. Patai, Man and Temple, New York: Ktav, 1967, pp. 24-53.
41. See J. MacDonald, The Theology of the Samaritans, London, 1964,
pp. 16-17, 310-13.
42. See above, n. 31.
43. See R. le D6aut, La Nuit Pascale, Rome, 1963, p. 277. Ps-Jon.'s
exegesis is found in T. Micah 4.8; otherwise Gen. 35.21 is hardly referred to
in rabbinic literature: see Hyman, op. cit., p. 156, and le Daut, Targum du
Pentateuque, vol. 1, p. 329.
44. On this point, cf. most recently M. Niehoff, 'The Figure of Joseph in
the Targums', JJS 39 (1988), pp. 234-50.
45. On Marqah and Baba Rabba, see MacDonald, op. cit., pp. 36-40.
THE STORY OF R. PHINEHAS
BEN YAIR AND HIS DONKEY
IN B. HULLIN 7a-b
Louis Jacobs
Lancaster University
In the previous passages in Hullin^ there are references to the maxim:

'If the Holy One, blessed be He, allows no mishap to result through
the animals of the righteous, a fortiori He does not allow it to happen
to the righteous themselves'.1 In illustration of the maxim the
Talmud tells the story of R. Phinehas and his donkey.
R. Phinehas b. Yair was on the way to redeem captives. When he
came to the river Ginai2 he said: 'O Ginai, divide thy waters on my
behalf that I may cross over'. Said the river: 'Thou art going to do
the will of thy Maker and I am going to do the will of my Maker.
For thee it is doubtful whether thou wilt carry it out whereas I
certainly carry it out'.3 Said he to the river: 'If thou wilt not divide I
shall decree that no water will ever pass through thee', so it divided
for him. There was another man there carrying wheat for Passover.
Said he to the river: 'Divide also for that man who is engaged in the
performance ofamitzvahl' It divided for him. There was an Arab
accompanying them. He said to the river: 'Divide also for that man
so that people should not protest: "Is that how one treats
companions on a journey?"' The river divided for him as well. Said
R. Joseph: 'How much greater was the power of this man than that
of Moses and the six hundred thousand! For there was only a single
division of the sea and here it happened three times'. But perhaps
here, too, there was only a single parting?4 Say, rather: 'Like Moses
and the six hundred thousand'.5 When he arrived at an inn they
cast some barley before his donkey but it refused to eat. They
winnowed the barley but it still refused to eat. They cleansed it but
it still refused to eat. Said he to them: 'Perhaps they have not been
tithed', whereupon they gave the tithes and the donkey ate the
barley. Said he: 'This poor creature is going to do the will of its
Maker6 and you dare to make it eat untithed produce'. But is there
any obligation for produce to be tithed in such circumstances?
Have we not learned:7 'If one buys produce for sowing or for an
animal or flour for skins or oil for lighting or oil to polish utensils
there is no obligation to give the tithes for produce of uncertain
status?8 But there we have the observation of R. Johanan who said:
'This only applies where he bought the produce for an animal in
the first instance. Where he bought it for human consumption and
then changed his mind to give it to the animal he does have an
obligation to tithe it.' And so we have been taught: 'If one buys
produce in the market place in order to eat it himself and then
changes his mind and decides to give it to his animal he must not
give it to his animal or to his neighbour's animal until he has given
the tithes'.
Rabbi (Judah the Prince) heard that he was coming and went out
to meet him. Said he: 'Wilt thou dine with me?' 'Yes', he replied,
whereupon Rabbi's face shone with delight. Said he: 'Dost thou
imagine that I have given a vow never to enjoy any benefit from
Israelites? Israelites are holy.9 But there is one who desireth (to
invite guests) but he hath no means and there is one who hath
means but no desire, and it is written: 'Eat thou not the bread of
him that hath an evil eye, neither desire thou his dainties. For as
one that hath reckoned within himself, so is he: "Eat and drink",
saith he to thee; but his heart is not with thee' (Proverbs 23.6-7).
Thou, however, hast the means and the desire. Yet now I must
make haste for I am busily occupied in carrying out a mitzvah. I
shall come to thee on my return.' On his return he happened to
enter by a door where he saw standing some white-legged mules.
Said he: 'The angel of death is in this one's house and shall I dine
with him?'10 Rabbi heard of his coming and he went out to meet
him, saying: 'I shall sell them'. Said he: ' "Thou shall not place a
stumbling block before a blind man'" (Leviticus 19.14).11 Said he:
'I shall abandon them'.12 Said he: 'There will then be an increase of
harm'.13 Said he: 'I shall hamstring them'. Said he: 'That will
offend against the prohibition of cruelty to animals'.14 Said he: 'I
shall kill them'. Said he: 'That would offend against the prohibition:
"Thou shall not destroy'" (Deuteronomy 20.19).15 He was very
insistent but a mountain rose between them.16 Rabbi wept
saying:17 'If this is how it is with them during their lifetime how
much more when they are dead'. For R. Hama b. Hanina said:
'Greater are the righteous in their death than in their lifetime, as it
is said: "And it came to pass, as they were burying a man, that,
JACOBS R. Phinehas ben Yair and his Donkey 195
behold, they spied a band; and they cast the man into the sepulchre
of Elisha; and as soon as the man touched the bones of Elisha, he
revived and stood upon his feet'" (2 Kings 13.21).18 Said R. Pappa
to Abbaye: 'Perhaps it was in order for Elijah's blessing to be
fulfilled19 as it is written: "Let a double portion of thy spirit be
upon me"?' (2 Kings 2.9). Said he: 'In that case why have we been
taught,"He stood on his feet but did not return to his home"?' But
then how was Elijah's blessing fulfilled?20 As R. Johanan said, in
that he healed the leprosy of Naaman, a leper being considered as
one dead, as it is written: "Let her not, I pray, be as one
dead" ... (Numbers 12.12).21 They said regarding R. Phinehas b.
Yair that in all his days he never broke bread over a loaf that did
not belong to him and from the day he reached independence22 he
did not enjoy a repast of his father.23
Thus far the story and its elaboration in the Babylonian Talmud. It
is fruitful to compare this version with that in the Jerusalem
Talmud,24 appended to the Mishnah in Demai, quoted in BT as part
of the discussion and evidently quoted in JT for the same purpose.
First, however, inJT a series of stories about the miraculous powers
of R. Phinehas b. Yair occurs. For the purpose of comparison three of
these stories (there are others in the list) must be examined. In the
first of these, the donkey of R. Phinehas is stolen by robbers during
the night. For three days the robbers tried unsuccessfully to feed the
donkey but it refused to eat. Fearful that it would die and cause a
stench in their hideout the robbers decided to return the donkey to
its owner, R. Phinehas. The donkey began to bray as it reached the
gateway of R. Phinehas's house. R. Phinehas urged the members of
his household to open the gate since, he said, this poor animal25 has
not eaten for three days.26 They let it in and R. Phinehas ordered
them to give it food. They placed barley before it but it refused to eat.
'Rabbi', they declared, 'it refuses to eat'. 'Did you separate the tithes
from the demai27 produce?', asked R. Phinehas. They replied: 'But
our Master has taught us that if one buys Demai produce for an
animal there is no need to tithe it' (quoting the Mishnah to which the
story is appended, as in BT). R. Phinehas replied: 'What can we do if
this poor beast wishes to be strict beyond the letter of the law?' They
thereupon gave the tithes and the donkey ate.
The second story in JT relevant to our purpose tells how R.
Phinehas b. Yair went to the House of Learning.28 The river Ginai,
being in full flood, was a barrier. R. Phinehas said: 'O Ginai, why
dost thou prevent me from going to the House of Learning?' So the
river parted for him to cross. His disciples asked him whether the
river would part for them. He replied: 'Whoever knows that in all his
days he had never put a fellow Israelite to shame may cross and it
will not be deducted from his merits'.29
The third story tells of R. Phinehas b. Yair visiting Rabbi (Judah
the Prince, Nasi) in order to express his disapproval of the latter's
attempt to permit work in the fields on the Sabbatical year.30 Rabbi
asked R. Phinehas whether the produce in the fields was doing well. He
asked him this twice but each time R. Phinehas replied: 'The endives
are doing well', from which reply Rabbi understood that R. Phinehas
was not in agreement with him regarding the Sabbatical year.31
Rabbi then invited R. Phinehas to dine with him but when R.
Phinehas came to Rabbi's house he saw the mules32 of Rabbi
standing there. R. Phinehas expressed his astonishment that Jews33
should keep such dangerous animals and he expressed the hope that
Rabbi would fail to note that he had arrived at the house. When
Rabbi was told that R. Phinehas had returned home he sent
messengers to apologize to R. Phinehas. R. Phinehas at first
requested his townsfolk to surround him so that the messengers of
Rabbi would not be able to reach him. The townsfolk, however, left
R. Phinehas out of respect for Rabbi, whereupon R. Phinehas asked
the members of his household to surround him and eventually fire
came down from Heaven to cut R. Phinehas off from Rabbi's
messengers. When this was told to Rabbi he exclaimed: 'Since I did
not have the privilege of seeing the splendour of his countenance34 in
this world, perchance I will enjoy the privilege in the World to
Come'.
In the JT version we have three stories each relating to a separate
event in the life of R. Phinehas: the story of the donkey who refused
to eat; the story of the river through which R. Phinehas passed; and
the story of the meeting between Rabbi and R. Phinehas. In the BT
version these three separate stories have become three episodes in
the same story. It follows that the three story version must be the
earlier. One can readily understand how, for the purposes of
dramatic effect and in order to produce a coherent and consistent
narrative, the three separate stories have been told as a single story.
But it is impossible for an original single story to have been separated
into three separate ones, each with circumstantial detail on its own,
different from the details in the single story. Moreover, the JT
version records the three stories together with other separate stories
about R. Phinehas. It is as clear as can be that the BT version

consists of a re-working of the earlier material. This is not, of course,
to suggest that the BT editors had the actual text of the JT version
before them,35 only that inJT an earlier version has been preserved.
Nor does it necessarily rule out the possibility that the JT version is
also a re-working of earlier material.
We must now revert to the BT version to compare it with the JT
version, noting the strong resemblances and the equally strong
differences, for which latter some explanation must be sought.
In the BT version, as the beginning, corresponding to the second
story in the JT version, R. Phinehas is on an errand of mercy, to
redeem captives. InjThe is journeying to the House of Learning. In
both versions he meets the resistance of the river Ginai and in both
there are others who wish to cross the river; in BT the man with
wheat for Passover and the Arab, in JT the disciples. In JT there is
no lengthy dialogue with the river as in BT. It is possible that
'redemption of captives' is used in the BT version because here the
river is made to argue that R. Phinehas can only be in doubt whether
he will be successful in his errand; i.e. the captives may have escaped
or he will fail to ransom them. Conversely, in the JT version the
'house of Learning' may be R. Phinehas's destination because the
disciples are going on the same errand for the same purpose. That
there are three persons in BT may be because of the general fondness
of BTfor sets of three.36 The comparison of R. Phinehas's powers to
those of Moses and the six hundred thousand is possibly due to the
tendency ofBT generally to ascribe exaggerated miraculous powers
to the saints.37 For the same reason it may well be that in BT R.
Phinehas threatens the river that unless it parts he will decree that
water will never flow through it, BT believing strongly in the powers
of the saint to issue such decrees.38 To be noticed, too, is the play on
doing God's will in BT. R. Phinehas goes to do the will of his Maker,
so does the river, and, in the continuation of the story, so does the
donkey, which, evidently, goes to do God's will because R. Phinehas
is riding on the donkey when he goes to redeem the captives.
In the story of the donkey refusing to eat, the BT version places the
episode at an inn, whereas in thejT version the donkey is first stolen
by the robbers and its final refusal to eat is at the home of R.
Phinehas where the donkey has been returned. The difficulty from
the Mishnah that animal food need not be tithed is raised in both
versions (in JT of R. Phinehas by his servants, in BTby the Talmud)
but in BT a legalistic distinction is made, whereas inJTR. Phinehas

states that the animal is strict beyond the letter of the law.39 The
difference is no doubt because in the BT version, since the affair
happens at an inn, the barley might well have been bought for
human consumption. In the JT version, on the other hand, it occurs
in R. Phinehas's own home and he orders the servants to feed the
donkey. In such circumstances they would presumably give the donkey
its usual feed of barley, and the reply in BT will not be applicable.
In the continuation of the story in BT and in the third story inJT,
R. Phinehas meets Rabbi but in the JT version R. Phinehas journeys
especially to Rabbi to express his disagreement with the latter's
attempt to abolish the Sabbatical year prohibitions. In BT R.
Phinehas is in any event reluctant to eat at another's table, using the
mules as a valid excuse, whereas in JT the sole reason for R.
Phinehas's refusal to dine with Rabbi is because of the mules.
Reflected in both stories is the suggested conflict between the House
of the Nasi and others who resented his authority.40 In both stories
there is a miraculous interventionthe mountain in BT, the fire
from Heaven in JT to prevent Rabbi inviting R. Phinehas. In both
versions the 'punch-line' has to do with this world and the next but there
is a vast difference between the two versions. In JT Rabbi expresses the
hope that he will meet with R. Phinehas in the next world. In BT
there is nothing about Rabbi meeting with R. Phinehas in the next
world but Rabbi declares that if R. Phinehas has these powers in this
world how much more in the next. Indeed, it is possible that the BT
version means that if Rabbi did not have the merit of inviting R.
Phinehas in this world how much less will he have the opportunity in
the next.41 This would explain why Rabbi weeps in the BT version.
The BT story concludes with the statement about R. Phinehas's
independent spirit, a motif of the BT version but unknown in thejT
version.
The whole passage in BT is a carefully worked-out story, each
feature of which is made to be introduced at just the right time. The
third episode, the meeting of Rabbi and R. Phinehas, must come at
the end, after the other two, as the climax of the story, Rabbi and R.
Phinehas parting forever. The whole story is presented so as to
convey progressively the powers of the saint. First he exercises his
power over the river. Then even his donkey is seen to have been
imbued with this power. Finally, the power works not only against a
natural object, the river, and not only against the ignorant men at the
inn, but also against the Nasi who is obliged to admit that the power
will be even greater after the saint's death. Implied in the whole
manner in which the tale is told is the idea that because the saint is
determined to do the will of his Maker, his Maker bows, as it were, to
his will,42 so that he can threaten the river and bring about its
parting; he can avoid unwittingly have his donkey eat untithed food;
and he can pursue without hindrance the way he has chosen of
refusing to enjoy any benefit from others. In the story, too, R.
Phinehas does not go out intentionally to exercise his powers but
does so only when he is obliged to face opposition through
unforeseen circumstances. He is no knight in shining armour going
out to do battle but a good man doing God's will and only invoking
the powers he has when he has no alternative. This explains the
verbs used in the narrative. R. Phinehas meets4* the river. He
happens44 upon an inn. The man with the wheat and the Arab just
happen to be there. Rabbi happens to hear45 that R. Phinehas has
come. When R. Phinehas returns he just happens46 to enter the gate
where the mules are waiting to provide him with the excuse he needs.
In the Elisha story, too, the dead man is accidentally cast into
Elisha's sepulchre.
The story of R. Phinehas and his donkey is also told in Genesis
Kabbah41 This is basically the story as told injT with a few variants.
Thus in the Midrash the robbers send the donkey away and it arrives
by itself at the house of its master and R. Phinehas replies to the
question: 'What can I do if she wishes to be strict?'48
In Aboth deRabbi Nathan49 there is yet another parallel to thejT
story, but here the story is in Hebrew and is not told of R. Phinehas
ben Yair but of the other renowned miracle-working saint, R. Hanina
ben Dosa. In this version, too, the donkey makes its own way home
but it is the saint's son who recognizes from the braying of the
donkey that it is their own donkey. More significantly, in this version
there is no reference to the donkey refusing to eat the barley because
it is untithed. Here the point of the story is rather that the animal
refused to eat or drink in the robbers' den.50
In both the Genesis Rabbah and the JT versions, the story of R.
Phinehas and the donkey that would not eat untithed produce is told
in connection with the story of R. Jeremiah who sent a basket of
untithed figs to R. Zera. R. Jeremiah relied on R. Zera not to eat until
the figs had been tithed while R. Zera relied on R. Jeremiah to have
tithed them. In connection with this it is said that R. Abba bar
Zamina said in the name of R. Lezer:51 'If the earlier teachers were
like angels we are like human beings. But if they were like human
beings then we are like donkeys.' To this R. Mana adds: 'We are not
even like donkeys. The donkey of R. Phinehas b. Yair was given
untithed barley and it did not eat but we have eaten figs that were
untithed.'52
One further source must now be mentioned. This is in b. Shabbat
112b and reads: 'R. Zera said that Rabbah bar Zimona53 said: If the
earlier teachers were the sons of angels we are the sons of human
beings. But if the earlier teachers were sons of human beings then we
are like donkeys but not like the donkeys of R. Hanina b. Dosa54 or R.
Phinehas b. Yair but like other donkeys.'
In the light of the above analysis the development of the tale can
plausibly be traced. Of the sources referred to above we have the
following:
A. The ARN version

Hero of the tale: R. Hanina b. Dosa. The donkey neither eats nor
drinks in the hideout of the robbers. Thus the theme is that of the
animal who prevents his master benefiting from stolen property.
The passage is in Hebrew.
B. The Genesis Rabbah version

Hero of the tale: R. Phinehas b. Yair. The donkey does not eat in the
hideout of the robbers, hence the stolen property motif (and it is
appended to the account of Abraham's camels who did not enjoy
stolen food). But here the additional motif is found of the animal
refusing to eat untithed food (appended to the story of R. Jeremiah
and R. Zera).
C. The JTversion
This is a parallel to B but is presented as one in a series of tales about
R. Phinehas b. Yair and other miracle-workers (including R. Hanina
b. Dosa, but excluding the story of his donkey as in ARN}. (In both B
and C the saying, 'If the earlier ones ...', occurs, but they both end
only with the donkey of R. Phinehas b. Yair, no reference being made
to R. Hanina b. Dosa).
D. The BT version
Hero of the story: R. Phinehas b. Yair. But here the three separate
stories of the JT version have been put together to form three
episodes in the same story as a coherent tale. The robbery motif is

not found here. Further motif found only here: 'If God prevents a
mishap through the animal of the righteous...'
E. The BT Shabbat passage

'If the earlier ones ...' as in B and C but here in Hebrew. And in
addition to the donkey of R. Phinehas b. Yair there is the donkey of
R. Hanina b. Dosa.
F. The BT passage Taanit 24a (a similar story)

Hero of the story: R. Jose of Yokereth. Motif: the donkey who
prevents his owner enjoying benefit from stolen property as in A.
It would appear that, in the stories told regarding the donkeys of the
saints who refused to eat, the reason for the refusal was either to
prevent their owner enjoying benefit from stolen property (R.
Hanina b. Dosa in A and R. Jose of Yokereth in F) or from enjoying
benefit from untithed property (R. Phinehas b. Yair in B, C and D).
In B and C there are echoes of the robbery motif in the beginning of
the story which makes the robbers steal the donkey which refuses to
eat in their hideout. The conclusion drawn from the story is: 'If the
earlier ones...' In D the robbery motif is omitted, probably because
it is necessary to give a coherent tale of the events that befell R.
Phinehas on his travels in which the saint presumably rides on his
donkey; to have the donkey stolen would interrupt the narrative
for no purpose. Here in D the conclusion drawn from the story is: 'If
God does not allow a mishap to the animals of the righteous .. .'
seems to know of both motifs (unless the reference to R. Hanina b.
Dosa or R. Jose of Yokereth is a later gloss, in which case the saying is
a paraphrase in Hebrew of that in B and C). In any event it is clear
that in the D passage, our chief concern in this article, earlier
material has been used and reshaped in order to provide a consistent
and coherent narrative with a beginning, middle and end.
NOTES
1. B. Hullin 5b, 6a and 7a. The maxim is also found in Yevamot 99b;
Ketubot 28b; Gittin 7a. I hope that this analysis is a not unfitting
contribution to a Festschriftfor a scholar who has done important work on
Talmudic notions of saintliness and saintly powers.
2. There is no other mention in the Talmud of a River Ginai. In the

parallel passage in y. Demai 3 (22a) R. Phinehas finds ginai in flood, not
'River Ginai'. See Jastrow (s.v.\ for ginai as 'a dyke for irrigating gardens' (from
gan); but it is unlikely that such a dyke is referred to since here the reference
is to the River Ginai which could not be crossed except by a miracle. For the
redemption of captives as a great mitzvah, see b. Baba Bathra 8a.
3. That the doubtful yields to the certain (eyn safek motzi meydey vaddai)
is a legal principle, see b. Pesahim 9a.
4. Rashi: this means R. Phinehas kept the river 'talking' so that the other
two could cross, but the river was only parted once.
5. Exodus 14.21-22.
6. I.e. on the errand of mercy; the same expression 'will of the Maker' is
used in the narrative previously by R. Phinehas and by the river.
7. M. Demai 1.3.
8. The significance of this is that the barley had the status of food
brought from an am ha-aretz, demai which is only prohibited, when
untithed, by Rabbinic law and hence there are certain leniencies.
9. Rashi: 'and it is fitting to enjoy benefit from them'. The expression
yisrael kedoshim hem is found in b. Niddah 17a. The expression yisroel
kedoshim without hem is found in b. Hullin 91a, 92b and b. Pesahim 83b, all
three, in fact, the same text.
10. See b. Nedarim 49a where the expression 'the angel of death is in this
one's house' is used by a physician who sees in a house he visits food
injurious to health.
11. Interpreted by the Rabbis to include causing another to sin. Since it is
forbidden to keep these dangerous animals it is forbidden to sell them,
because then the purchaser would sin and the seller would have placed a
'stumbling block before the blind'.
12. Rashi comments: 'I shall send them away into the forest', i.e. simply to
abandon them would still offend against placing a stumbling block before the
blind, in that those who acquired the mules after they had been abandoned
would be guilty of keeping dangerous animals.
13. Rashi: since in the forest they will run wild without anyone to keep
them in check.
14. Rashi: this would not offend against the prohibition of wanton
destruction, mentioned after this, since the mules, no longer dangerous,
could still be used for ploughing.
15. Interpreted by the Rabbis as referring to any unnecessary waste of
natural resources.
16. This expression might be understood figuratively as 'they fell out' or
'they were no longer on speaking terms', and is so used in post-Talmudic
literature, but here it seems to have been intended to be taken literally. In the
parallel passage in JT it is 'fire from Heaven' that causes the separation of
one from the other.
17. For Rabbi 'weeping' see b. Hagigah 15b; b. 'Avodah Zarah lOb, 17a,
18aall these in connection with someone's death and his entrance into
Paradise.
18. Rashi: but during Elisha's lifetime great effort was required for him to
revive the son of the Shunamite (2 Kings 4.32-38).
19. Rashi: and had nothing to do with Elisha's own powers.
20. Rashi: Elisha had to revive two corpses for Elijah's one.
21. Here is inserted some further material by association, but this is not
germane to our theme.
22. Lit. 'from the day he stood by his own mind'.
23. In Seridey Bavli, ed. Z. Dimitrovsky, New York, 1979, the text has
'even of his father'.
24. 7. Demai 1.3 (21d-22a).
25. ha-da alivta but here in BT aniyah zo in Hebrew. Although the
framework of the story is in Aramaic most of the direct speech is in
Hebrew.
26. That is, R. Phinehas knows that the animal would not have eaten outside
its own house in the hideout of the robbers. There is consequently a double
theme: a) the animal refused to eat anything in the den of the robbers; b) the
animal refused to eat untithed food even in its own home.
27. Here in JT it is stated explicitly that it was demai produce that was
given to the donkey.
28. Bet Vaad usual in JT for Bet ha-Midrash.
29. See b. Shabbat 32a for the idea that if a miracle is performed on a man's
behalf there is a deduction from the reward due to him because of his merits.
Possibly, the idea here is that if the disciples 'give way' to others the river will
'give way' to them; see b. Yoma 23a 'whoever gives way (ma'avir al
middotav) his sins will be forgiven'.
30. Because, in Rabbi's day, the majority of Jews did not live in Palestine
and hence the Sabbatical Year was no longer in operation.
31. I.e. because R. Phinehas referred to the endives and so avoided any
reply to Rabbi's question about produce. For a similar evasion by referring to
something other than the topic of the question, see b. Pesahim 3b.
32. Here in JT mulvata, in BT kudnaita.
33. yehudai see Peney Moshe, possibly a pun on R. Yehudah; or perhaps
yehudai does not mean 'Jews' but 'of Yehudah', i.e. the servants of R. Judah
the Prince.
34. Lit. 'to be sated by him'.
35. On this question see L. Greenwald, Harau Mesaderey ha-Bavli et ha-
Yerushalmi, New York, 1954 and J.N. Epstein, Mevuot le-Sifrut ha-Amoraim^
Jerusalem, 1962, pp. 290-92. On the use of Palestinian material in the
Babylonian Aggadah, see the important remarks of J. Heinemann, Aggadot
ve-Toledotehen, Jerusalem, 1974, chapter 11, pp. 163-79.
36. See my article, 'The Numbered Sequence as a Literary Device in the
Babylonian Talmud' in Biblical and Other Studies in honor of Robert Gordis,

ed. Reuben Ahroni, Hebrew Annual Review 1 (1983), pp. 137-49. It might
also be noted that in the JT version only two attempts are made to feed the
donkey but in the BT version there are three attempts.
37. See e.g. b. Berakhot 20a and the miracle tales in the third chapter of
Taanit (unless R. Joseph is being sarcastic; but this is unlikely).
38. See b. Shabbat 59b, where the same root gazar is used.
39. Lit. 'she is very strict with herself'; but obviously the meaning is on
behalf of R. Phinehas, not that the donkey had to obey the law or be very
strict in its observance.
40. See A. Biichler, 'The Conspiracy of R. Nathan and R. Meir against the
Patriarch Simon ben Gamaliel', in Studies in Jewish History by A. Biichler,
ed. I. Brodie and J. Rabbinowitz, Oxford, 1956, chapter 6, pp. 160-79.
Rabban Simon b. Gamaliel was, of course, the father of Rabbi Judah the
Prince.
41. The meaning then would be: if there was a miraculous intervention to
separate the two in this world a fortiori they would be kept apart in the next
world. Cf. b. Baba Bathra 75a for the righteous occupying separate 'canopies'
in Paradise.
42. Cf. m. Abot 2.4 'Make His will as thy will so that He will make thy will
His will'.
43. paga' beh.
44. 'ikliai.
45. sama'.
46. 'itrami.
47. Gen. Rabbah 60.8, ed. Theodor-Albeck, pp. 648-50.
48. In y. Demai R. Phinehas replies: 'What can I do if this poor beast is
very strict on herself?' There is no significance to these minor variants. On
the relationship between JT and Genesis Rabbah, see Epstein, Mevuot,
pp. 287-90.
49. Ed. Schechter, New York, 1967, A, chapter 8, p. 38.
50. In the Genesis Rabbah passage the story of R. Phinehas is appended to
the verse, 'and he freed the camels' (Gen. 24.32), upon which there is the
comment: 'he undid their muzzles'. Abraham's camels were muzzled (Gen
R. 59.11) so that they would not eat of anything that did not belong to their
owner. To this the question is asked: why did Abraham's camels require to be
muzzled (see Albeck's note 3 on this), since R. Phinehas's donkey did not eat
and the beasts of Abraham would surely not be inferior to R. Phinehas's
donkey. This 'robbery' motif is the one in ARN where R. Hanina b. Dosa's
donkey refuses to eat or drink in the robber's hideout, i.e. because their food
and drink was all stolen property.
51. Thus in Genesis Rabbah, adding the name Zeira after R. LezerR.
Lezer Zeira (see Albeck's note for variants). Eleazar Zeira is mentioned in
Baba Kamma 59b. Is it possible that he was called Eleazar Zeira ('young',
'immature', 'inferior') because he was the author of this saying that the later
ones were 'inferior' to the ancients? On the phenomenon of the author of a
saying having a name connected with the saying, see my article, 'How much
of the Babylonian Talmud is Pseudepigraphic?', JJS 28 (1977), p. 56 n. 30.
52. In the parallel passage iny. Shekalim 5.1 (48 c-d) R. Mana says, 'At
that time they said', i.e. when R. Jeremiah sent the untithed figs to R. Zera,
'they' being R. Jeremiah and R. Zera. Possibly 'R. Mana' is a corruption of
the name 'Zamina' or perhaps there is a confusion with R. Zera.
53. Here the order is reversed. It is certainly puzzling that 'Zamina'
resembles 'R. Mana' and 'Eleazar Zeira' resembles 'R. Zera'. The texts are in
any event confused.
54. Thus the reading in the current texts. But see Rashi and the marginal
note in the Vilna Romm edition for the reading 'R. Jose of Yokereth' (in
Taanit 24a), as in F.
TANNAITIC EXEGESIS OF THE GOLDEN CALF EPISODE1
Irving J. Mandelbaum
The University of Texas at Austin
Rutgers University
Introduction
2
One of the questions that arise in studying early rabbinic
interpretation of the Bible concerns whether exegetical traditions
attributed to authorities of a specific period present a coherent
account of a particular biblical episode. At issue is whether a
scriptural passage has a single 'tannaitic' or 'amoraic' interpretation,
a view that is shared by traditions assigned to different authorities
and appearing in diverse documents. In this paper I examine this
question with regard to exegeses of the golden calf episode (Exodus
32)3 that are attributed to tannaim.4 What I aim to show is that a
common view of this story does inform the various interpretations
that are assigned to these authorities. Specifically, virtually all of
these exegetical traditions treat the incident of the calf as a classic
story of sin and atonement. All assume that Aaron and Israel commit
serious sins, are punished for their transgressions, and are ultimately
forgiven by God. The coherence of this reading of the calf-story,
moreover, becomes clear when its interpretation is contrasted with
that of certain traditions attributed to amoraim. These latter exegeses
present a strong apologetic for the main characters of this episode,
defending Aaron's actions as justified or absolving Israel of any guilt.
In contrast with this view, traditions assigned to tannaim choose to
maintain that Aaron and Israel did transgress, and that their only
defense is that they repented of their sin. These exegeses, therefore,
view the incident of the golden calf as illustrating the process of sin
and atonement: Israel sins and receives punishment for its sins, but it
is also offered the possibility of atonement, even for the worst of its
transgressions.
This study selects from compilations of tannaitic materials5 those

exegeses that deal with three main themes of the golden calf episode:
(1) the seriousness of the sin of the calf, (2) the punishment for
Israel's sins, and (3) God's forgiveness of Aaron and the people.6 In
discussing these topics I first present each pericope individually,
analyzing its literary structure and determining its main point. Then
follows a summary of the interpretations that these pericopae
present, showing how they relate to the theme in question. In this
way I demonstrate how diverse exegeses attributed to tannaim all
share the same understanding of the golden calf episode as a story of
sin and repentance.
Three themes in the Tannaitic exegesis of the

golden calf episode
The seriousness of the sin
I begin with the theme of the seriousness of the sin of the calf. The
pericopae that deal with this theme are found at t. Shab. 1.16 and
Sifre Deut. 1.9 and 10. T. Shab. 1.16 reads as follows:7
A. These are among the laws which they stated in the upper
room of Hananiah b. Hezekiah b. Gurion when they went
up to visit him. They took a vote, and the House of Shammai
outnumbered the House of Hillel. Eighteen rules did they
decree on that very day [m. Shab. 1.4A-CJ.
B. And that day was as harsh for Israel as the day on which the
golden calf was made.
(ed. Lieberman, Tosefta Moed, p. 4,11.36-38;
B:y. Shab. 1.4 [3c]; b. Shab. 17a)
Commenting on m. Shab. 1.4, Tosefta compares the day on which
House of Shammai attained a majority to the day of the making of
the calf. While this comparison is perhaps exaggerated,8 of interest
here is that the making of the calf is used as an example of an evil day
throughout Israel's history. Rather then seek to minimize Israel's sin,
Tosefta here uses this event as a standard against which other evil
happenings are measured. The day of the golden calf thus remains on
Israel's calendar as a reminder of its sin.
Sifre Deut. 1.9 and 1.10 separately9 link the sin of the calf to the
term 'Di-zahab' (Deut. 1.1). Sifre Deut. 1.9 reads as follows:10
1. A. 'And Di-zahab' (Deut. 1.1)
B. He said to them, 'I would have overlooked (wtrh)
MANDELBAUM Exegesis of the Golden Calf Episode 209
everything that you have done, [but] the incident

of the calf is worse for me than all of them'.
2. A. R. Judah would say, 'A parable: To what may this
be likened? To one who caused a great deal of
trouble to his fellow. In the end he added one more
trouble. [His fellow] said to him, 'I would have
overlooked everything that you had done to me,
[but] this is worse for me than all of them'.
B. 'Thus God said to Israel, "I would have overlooked
everything that you had done, but the incident of
the calf is worse for me than all of them"'.
(ed. Finkelstein, p. 6,11.1-5)
This pericope continues Sifre Deut. 1's exegesis of Deut. 1.1 as a list
of wilderness locations at which Israel sinned. l.A-B interprets 'Di-
zahab' as dai-zahab^ that is, 'the [sin of the] gold[en calf] is enough',
or one sin too many.11 The point of l.A-B (as illustrated by Judah's
parable in 2.A-B), therefore, is that the sin of the calf is the worst of
all of the transgressions that Israel committed in the wilderness.
Sifre Deut. 1.10 supplements 1.9.1-2 with a similar exegesis of'Di-
Zahab':
1. A. R. Simeon says, 'A parable: To what may this be
likened? To one who used to entertain sages and
their disciples, and everyone praised him.
B. 'Gentiles came and he entertained them [as well];
robbers, and he entertained them [also].
C. 'People said, "That is so-and-so's natureto
entertain anyone at all"'.
D. 'So did Moses say to Israel, "Enough gold" (tody
zhb) for the tabernacle, and "enough gold" for the
calf'!
2. A. R. Benaiah says, "The Israelites worshipped idols,
and so are liable to extermination. Let the gold of
the tabernacle come and effect atonement for the
gold of the calf'.
3. A. R. Yose b. Haninah says, 'You shall make a cover
(kprt) of pure gold' (Exod. 25.17)-
B. 'let the gold of the cover come and effect atonement
(toykpr) for the gold of the calf'.
(ed. Finkelstein, p. 6,11.6-11;
3.A-B: y. Sheq. 1.1 [45d])
Like Sifre Deut. 1.9.1A-B, Simeon's parable also interprets 'Di-
Zahab' as dai-zahab, though now the term is understood to imply
that 'there is enough gold' for the calf as well as for the tabernacle.
This parable, which stresses Israel's giving to the calf as well as to the
tabernacle, is then supplemented by the exegeses of both Benaiah
(2A) and Yose b. Haninah (3A-B), which view Israel's giving to the
tabernacle as atoning for its making of the calf. By including these
latter two traditions, it is possible that the redactor of the pericope
intended to offset Simeon's negative saying about Israel with a more
positive view of precisely the same actions. At the same time,
however, these exegeses (and that of Benaiah in particular) do not
deny that Israel was guilty of idolatry, but rather emphasize that
Israel atoned for that sin. Even in portraying Israel more positively,
therefore, the redactor ofSifre Deut. 1.9 cites traditions that accept
Israel's responsibility for its sin. All of the views cited in the pericope,
therefore, agree that Israel worshipped the golden calf and thereby
committed a serious transgression.
The exegeses oft. Shab. 1.16 and Sifre Deut. 1.9 and 10 thus all
treat the episode of the calf as a major sin. This was the worst of all of
Israel's sins in the wilderness, and appears as the paradigmatic evil
day on Israel's calendar. Even the traditions that stress Israel's
repentance for this sin treat it as a grave transgression that almost
destroys the people. All of these exegeses, therefore, stress that Israel
sinned greatly in making and worshipping the golden calf.
The punishment for the sin

The seriousness with which tannaitic exegeses viewed the incident of
the calf also finds expression through the punishments that are
assigned to this sin. Four pericopae deal with this matter: Sifre Deut.
319.3, Mekhilta Bahodesh 2 and 9, and Sifre Num. 1.10.2-3. Let us
examine each of these units in turn.
Sifre Deut. 319.3 speaks of the punishment for the calf in a general
way:
1. A. Another interpretation: 'You neglected (tSy) the
Rock that begot you' (Deut. 32.18).
B. 'Whenever I want to do good things for you, you
weaken (mtySyni) the power of heaven.
C. 'You stood at the sea and said, "This is my God
and I will glorify him" (Exod. 15.2).
D. 'I wanted to do good things for you, but you
backslid and said, "Let us set a head and return to
Egypt" (Num. 14.4).
E. 'You stood before Mount Sinai and said, "All that

the Lord has spoken we will faithfully do" (Exod.
24.7)!
F. 'I wanted to do good things for you, but you
backslid and said to the calf, "These are your gods,
O Israel" (Exod. 32.4).
G. 'Accordingly, whenever I want to do good things
for you, you weaken the power of heaven'.
(ed. Finkelstein, p. 365,11.9-14; F-G: Lam. R. 1.33)
This pericope describes the sin of the calf, together with that of the
spies, as one of reneging on one's promises. Israel is therefore
punished for this sin by God's withholding of certain good things
that they might otherwise have received.
This same idea, that Israel loses certain gifts because of the sin of
the calf, also appears in an exegesis found at Mekhilta Bahodesh 2:
A. From here they said, 'Israel had been worthy to eat of the
Holy Things before they made the calf.
B. ' [But] once they made the calf, [the Holy Things] were taken
from them and given to the priests.'
(ed. Horovitz-Rabin, p. 209,11.4-6)
A-B appears in a series of exegesis of Exod. 19.5, 'You shall be to me a
kingdom of priests and a holy nation'. A takes the phrase 'a kingdom
of priests' to mean that, at Sinai, Israel had the right to eat holy
things, as priests do. B then states that this right was taken away
from Israel because of the sin of the calf, so that now only actual
priests may eat these foods (Lev. 22.10). The making of the calf thus
leads Israel to lose its priestly status and privileges.
An exegesis found in Mekhilta Bahodesh 9 similarly states that
Israel lost immortality because of the calf:
A. 'May they always be of such mind, [to revere Me and follow
all My commandments, that it may go well with them and
with their children forever!] (Deut. 5.26).
B. 'If it were possible to cause the Angel of Death to pass away
[from them], I would do so, but the decree has already been
decreed.'
C. R. Yose says, 'It was on this condition that the Israelites
stood on Mount Sinai, on condition that the Angel of Death
not rule over them,
D. as it is said, "I had said: You are divine beings, sons of the
Most High, all of you" (Ps. 82.6).
E. 'But you have corrupted your deeds,

F. ' "Surely you shall die as men do, fall like any prince" (ibid.,
v.7)'.
(ed. Horovitz-Rabin, p. 237, 11.8-12; C-F: b. A.Z. 5a)
Yose (C-F) applies Ps. 82.6-7 to the condition of Israel before and
after their sin. Israel had originally been promised immortality in
return for their observance of God's commandments, but this regard
was taken away from them when they 'corrupted their deeds'.
Although this phrase does not mention a specific transgression, it
most likely refers to the making of the calf.12 The exegeses found in
Mekhilta Bahodesh 2 and 9, therefore, both portray the sin of the calf
as the major transgression of Israel, a sin that causes the people to
lose God's gifts.
Finally, the idea that the sin of the calf marks a turning point in
Israel's history also appears in Si/re Num. 1.10.2-3:13
2. A. R. Yose the Galilean says, 'Come and take note of
how great is the power of sin. For before the people
had laid hands on transgression, people afflicted
with flux and lepers were not located among them,
but after they had laid hands on transgression,
people afflicted with flux and lepers did find a
place among them.
B. 'Accordingly, we learn that these three events took
place on one and the same day: [transgression, the
presence of those afflicted with flux, the development
of leprosy among the people].'
3. A. R. Simeon b. Yohai says, 'Come and take note of
how great is the power of sin. For before the people
had laid hands on transgression, what is stated in
their regard?'
B. ' "Now the appearance of the glory of the Lord was
like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain in
the sight of the people of Israel" (Exod. 24.17).
C. 'Nonetheless, the people did not fear, nor were they
afraid.
D. 'But once they had laid hands on transgression,
what is said in their regard?
E. "And when Aaron and all the people of Israel saw
Moses, behold, the skin of his face shone, and they
were afraid to come near him" (Exod. 34.30).'
(ed. Horovitz, p. 4, 11.14-20)
Sifre Num. 1.10.2 and 1.10.3 appear to have been redacted by the
same hand, for both begin with the clause,'Come and take note of
how great is the power of sin' (2A, 3 A), and both include the phrase,
'but once they had laid hands on transgression' (2A, 3D). Although
only Simeon b. Yohai explicitly identifies this transgression with the
sin of the calf, it seems likely that Yose the Galilean refers to this
major sin as well, and the redactor of the pericope perhaps implies
this understanding of Yose's saying in formulating and linking these
two sayings together. Both of these authorities, therefore, appear to
use the golden calf to illustrate the power of sin, viewing this
transgression as permanently changing either Israel's state of purity
or its psychological condition.
We thus see that unrelated traditions from three different
documents, Sifre to Deuteronomy, Mekhilta of R. Ishmael, and Sifre
to Numbers, all treat the punishment for the incident of the calf in a
similar manner. All of these exegeses regard the sin of the calf as in
some way seriously altering Israel's condition as a people, whether by
losing the right to eat holy things or by becoming subject to either
fear, uncleanness, or death. In this view the episode of the calf may
be compared to the story of the fall of Adam and Eve in Genesis 3.
Just as the first man and woman disobey a direct command by God,
and so cause a worsening of their condition, so does Israel suffer a
loss of status and privileges when it goes back on its promise at Sinai.
The incident of the calf is thus viewed by the above exegeses as the
story of Israel's fall, describing the most significant sin, accompanied
by the most serious punishments, in Israel's history.
Atonement and forgiveness

I turn now to the theme of atonement. This question, already
mentioned above at Sifre Deut. 10.1, is developed most thoroughly
by Sifra,which attemps to show that Aaron and Israel are forgiven
for their sin on the eve of Aaron's consecration as high priest. Sifra
explores this issue at $av} Mekhilta de-Miluim 1.1, and Shemini 1.3-
5,8. Let us examine each of these pericopae in turn.
Sifre $av, Mekhilta de-Miluim 1.1 discusses the effect of the sin of
the calf on Aaron at the time of his consecration:
A. 'And the Lord spoke to Moses, [saying], "Take Aaron along
with his sons'" (Lev. 8.1).
B. Why does Scripture say this?
C. Because it says, 'And the Lord sent a plague upon the people
for what they did with the calf that Aaron made' (Exod.
32.35)this implies that Aaron had been distanced [from
GodJ.
E. Whence do we know that Moses knew that Aaron had been
distanced [from GodJ?
F. As it is said, 'Moreover, the Lord was angry enough with
Aaron to have destroyed him; so I also interceded for Aaron
at that time' (Deut. 9.20),
G. and it is not said concerning [Aaron, as it is said regarding
the people], 'And that time, too, the Lord gave heed to me'
(Deut. 9.19).
H. [Thus] when it says, 'Take Aaron along with his sons', Moses
knew that Aaron had been brought near.
I. Whence do we know that it was in Aaron's heart that he had
been distanced?
J. It is said at the end of the matter, 'Come forward to the altar'
(Lev. 9.7).
K. But had not Moses already arranged before him all of the
offerings, [so that this command is unnecessary]?
L. But [this was said] so that [Aaron's] heart should not stray
(si' yhyh Ibw Idbr 'hr\ [that is, lest Aaron be unwilling to
officiate because he knew that he had been distanced from
God].14
M. [Thus] when it says, 'Take Aaron along with his sons', Aaron
knew that he had been brought near.
(ed. Weiss, 40d)
This pericope makes three points concerning the punishment of
Aaron: (1) that God had distanced Aaron from himself because of the
sin of the calf (A-D), (2) that Moses knew of this 'distancing' because
God did not respond to his prayer on behalf of Aaron as he had to his
prayer for the people (E-H), and (3) that Aaron himself sensed God's
anger and was therefore reluctant to take up his duties (I-M). A-D
and E-H underline the seriousness of Aaron's offense, for even
Moses' prayer could not help him, and he remains unforgiven up to
this point. I-M then proves that Aaron himself was conscious of his
alienation from God.15 The point of this unit, therefore, is that Aaron
was not only punished for the sin of the calf, but he was aware of this
punishment, and only God's explicit command at his consecration
tells him that he is now forgiven.
The theme of forgiveness is developed with regard to both Aaron
and Israel at Sifra Shemini 1.3-5. Shemini 1.3 reads as follows:
A. 'And he said to Aaron, "Take a calf of the herd for a sin

offering [and a ram for a burnt offering, without blemish,
and bring them before the Lord]'" (Lev. 9.2).
B. This teaches that Moses said to Aaron, 'Aaron, my brother,
even though the divine presence is reconciled to forgive your
sin, you have to place [something] in Satan's mouth. Send a
gift before you enter the sanctuary, lest he accuse you16
when you come into the sanctuary.
C. 'And lest you say, "Am I the one who required atonement?
But Israel also requires atonement!"
D. '[This is so], as it is said, "And speak to the Israelites, saying,
take a he-goat for a sin offering; [a calf and a lamb, yearlings
without blemish, for a burnt offering; and an ox and a ram
for an offering of well-being to sacrifice before the Lord; and
a meal offering mingled with oil; for today the Lord will
appear to you]'" (Lev. 9.3-4).
E. And why did Israel see fit to bring more than Aaron?
F. Rather, [Moses] said to them, 'You had something in your
hands, [that is, you transgressed] at the beginning, and you
had something in your hands at the end.
G. 'You had something in your hands in the beginning, "[Then
they took Joseph's tunic], slaughtered a he-goat, [and dipped
the tunic in the blood]" (Gen. 37.31).
H. 'And you had something in your hands at the end, "They
have made themselves a molten calf" (Exod. 32.8).
I. 'Let the he-goat come and atone for the incident of the he-
goat, and let the calf come and atone for the incident of the
calf.'
(ed. Weiss, 43c)
A-D makes the point that the sin offerings of both Aaron and the
people are meant to atone for the sin of the calf. B and C-D, however,
appear to present different views of Aaron's atonement, for B states
that Aaron's offering is intended as a bribe for Satan, and specifically
not to atone for the transgression, as C-D implies. It is possible,
therefore, that, for a reason now unclear, B sought to emphasize that
Aaron had been forgiven even before his consecration. This point,
however, was lost with the addition of C-D to B. A-D as a whole,
therefore, implies that both Aaron and the people are forgiven
through their respective sacrifices.
E-I supplements A-D with a discussion of Israel's sin offerings.
Apparently reading Lev. 9.3 as 'Take a he-goat for a sin offering and a
calif', rather than 'and a calf and a lamb... for a burnt offering', E-I
explains that Israel had to bring two sin offerings instead of Aaron's
one in order to atone for Joseph's kidnapping as well as for the calf.
In the view of this pericope, therefore, the sin offerings of Lev. 9.2-3
correspond to the sin of the calf, and it was therefore at Aaron's
consecration that both Aaron and Israel are forgiven for this sin.
Sifra Shemini 1.4 similarly takes the sacrifices of Lev. 9.2-4 to
correspond to the sin of the calf:
A. '[And speak to the Israelites, saying: Take a he-goat for a sin
offering; a calf and a lamb, yearlings without blemish, for a
burnt offering;] and an ox and a ram for offerings of well-
being' (Lev. 9.3-4).
B. [The calf and the ox are necessary] because the sin was
compared to two kinds [of animals],
C. as it is said, 'They have made themselves a molten calf'
(Exod. 32.8),
D. and below it says, 'They exchanged their glory for the image
of a bull that feeds on grass' (Ps. 106.20).
E. Let the ox come and atone for the making of the bull, and let
the calf come and atone for the making of the calf.
F. Know that the divine presence is reconciled to forgive your
sins, for the [animal corresponding to the] sin that you are
[most] afraid of has already been sacrificed before the divine
presence,
G. as it is said, 'To sacrifice before the Lord' (Lev. 9.4).
H. Said Israel before Moses, 'But how can a province praise the
king and not see the face of the king?'
I. He said to them, 'For this reason, "For today, the Lord will
appear to you'" (Lev. 9.4).
(ed. Weiss, 43c-d)
This pericope consists of three comments (A-E, F-G, and H-I) to
successive parts of Lev. 9.4. Of present concern are A-E and F-G.
Like Sifra Shemini 1.3, A-E views Israel's offerings as related to the
sin of the caff, with the caff and the ox of Lev. 9.3-4 corresponding
respectively to the bull of Ps. 106.20 and the caff of Exod. 32.8. F-G
states that the people feared that God would not forgive them for the
sin of the caff, and that Moses reassured them by noting that their
sacrifice of the caff atones for that sin. F-G thus develops with regard
to the people two themes which we have seen raised with respect to
Aaron, namely, the fear of the sin of the caff and the offering of a caff
in atonement for that sin. The point of F-G, therefore, is that the
people were afraid of not being forgiven, but that the offering of a caff
ensured their atonement.
Sifra Shemini 1.5 similarly emphasizes God's forgiveness of the

people:
A. 'They brought [to the front of the Tent of Meeting] the

things that Moses had commanded' (Lev. 9.5)with haste.
B. 'And the whole community came forward and stood before
the Lord' (ibid.)
C. They all approached joyfully and stood before him.
D. A parable: A king was angry with his wife and expelled
her.
E. After some time he was reconciled to her. She immediately
girded her loins and bound her shoulders and served him
excessively.
F. Thus also Israel, once they saw that God was reconciled to
forgive their sin, they came near in joy and stood before
him.
G. Thus it says, 'And the whole community came forward and
stood before the Lord'.
(ed. Weiss, 43d)
C interprets Lev. 9.5 to mean that Israel came forward joyfully
before God, and D-G explains that this was because they were
forgiven for their sin. Lev. 9.5 is thus understood here to describe the
result of God's forgiveness of the people for the sin of the golden
calf.
Finally, Sifra Shemini 1.8 returns to the subject of Aaron's state of
mind at his consecration:
A. '[Then Moses said to Aaron], "Come forward to the altar"'
(Lev. 9.7).
B. A parable: To what may this be likened?
C. It is similar to a human king who married a woman, and she
was embarrassed [to come] before him.
D. Her sister came to her and said, 'Why are you entering into
this matter if not to serve the king? Be bold and come and
serve the king.'
E. Thus Moses said to Aaron, 'Aaron, my brother, why were
you chosen to be high priest, if not that you should serve
before the Holy One, Blessed be He? Be bold and come and
perform your service.'
F. And some say that Aaron saw the altar as [being in] the
image of an ox, and was afraid of it.
G. And Moses said to him, 'My brother, do not [be afraid] of
that of which you are afraid. Be bold and come forward to
it.'
H. Thus it says, 'Come forward unto the altar'.

(ed. Weiss, 43d)
This unit first compares Aaron's reluctance to serve God to a new
queen who hesitates to go in to her king (A-E). F-G (with G
formulated to accord with C-E) then presents Aaron as so obsessed
with the sin of the calf that the altar takes the shape of that animal.
Like Sifra $av, Mekhilta de-Miluim 1.1, therefore, this pericope
explores the psychological effect of the sin upon Aaron. In both
pericopae Aaron's consciousness of his sin makes him unwilling to
take on his new duties, and in both instances Moses encourages him
by implying that God has forgiven him. In the view of Sifra,
therefore, the sin of the calf greatly troubles Aaron at his consecration,
but at the same time he is forgiven for this transgression.
We have thus seen how Sifra emphasizes that God forgives the sin
of the golden calf at Aaron's consecration. Although both Aaron and
Israel are fearful of not receiving atonement, Sifra seeks to show that
God does become reconciled to them at this time. Thus Aaron could
serve as high priest, and Israel could offer sacrifices, without concern
that the sin of the calf would render the service of the Tabernacle
unacceptable. The point of these pericopae, therefore, is that Aaron
and Israel are greatly concerned about their sins at the golden caff,
but are forgiven with Aaron's elevation to the high priesthood.
Conclusion
The story of sin, punishment, and atonement that is told by the
traditions attributed to tannaim stands in sharper focus when
contrasted with the view of certain later, amoraic exegeses. For
example, Lev. R. 10.3 offers a number of possible explanations as to
why Aaron built the altar: (1) because he feared the people would kill
him and be beyond forgiveness (10.3.1),17 (2) in order to delay its
completion until Moses could arrive, (3) to dedicate the altar to God
rather than to the caff (10.3.2), or (4) to take the guilt of the people
upon himself alone (10.3.3). Similarly, Lev. R. 27.8 relieves Israel of
responsibility by explaining the building of the caff in a number of
ways: (1) the people were falsely accused of idolatry (27.8.1), (2) the
'mixed multitude', and not Israel, made the caff (27.8.2), or (3) Israel
sinned inadvertently (27.8.3). Such attempts to defend the actions of
Aaron and Israel are conspicuous by their almost total absence
among the tannaitic traditions.18 Rather than treating Aaron as well-
intentioned or the people as innocent, traditions attributed to

tannaim affirm that both Aaron and Israel did indeed sin. The
incident of the calf is not to be explained away, but instead should be
seen to serve as a model for a study of sin and atonement.
The tannaitic exegeses of the golden calf episode, attributed to
various authorities and drawn from different documents, thus all
appear to view this bibilical incident in a similar way. Common to all
of these traditions is the view that the event takes place just as
Scripture describes it. Aaron makes the calf and builds the altar, and
Israel commits the sin of idolatry. These actions are not defended or
excused, but rather used to teach important lessons. Israel's
transgression teaches about the power of sin, which can cause the fall
of an entire people from a highly elevated status. Aaron's repentance
in turn illustrates the power of atonement, which enables even an
idolater to be accepted as high-priest. The overall message of these
tannaitic exegeses, therefore, concerns the reality for Israel of both
sin and atonement: Israel can and does commit serious sins, thereby
meriting the severest of punishments, but it also possesses the ability to
repent, and so to receive the forgiveness of God that is always at
hand.
NOTES
1. Dr Geza Verities, as my supervisor at Oxford, introduced me to the

study of biblical exegesis in general and to the history of interpretation of
Exodus 32 in particular ('Early Jewish Exegesis of Exodus 32: A Study of
Targum Pseudo-Jonathan', M. Phil, thesis, 1979). I am very grateful to Dr
Vermes for what he taught me then, and for his support, collegiality, and
warm friendship throughout the years since.
2. A previous version of this paper was presented at the History and
Literature of Early Rabbinic Judaism Section of the Annual Meeting of the
Society of Biblical Literature, Chicago, Illinois, USA, November 22,1988.1
would like to thank in particular Professor Alan Avery-Peck (Tulane
University), who read an earlier draft of this paper and offered numerous
helpful comments and suggestions. I am grateful as well to Professors Martin
Jaffee (University of Washington) and Lawrence Schiffman (New York
University) for their comments and suggestions. Any errors in the paper
remain my responsibility alone.
3. By 'exegeses of the golden calf episode' I refer both to traditions that
comment directly on Exodus 32 and to sayings that mention the incident of
the calf without verses from this chapter.
4. I do not assume that the attributions of sayings to tannaim can be

accepted at face value, or that exegeses found in so-called 'tannaitic'
compilations (namely, Mekhilta deRabbi Ishmael, Mekhilta deRabbi Simeon
b. Yohai, Sifra, Sifre to Numbers, Sifre Zuta, Sifre to Deuteronomy, and
Avot deRabbi Nathan} necessarily reflect biblical interpretation in the time
of the tannaim (c. 70-220 CE). Rather, I agree with Gary Porton's statement
on this question ('Defining Midrash', in Jacob Neusner, ed., The Study of
Ancient Judaism, New York: Ktav, 1981,1, p. 78):
The classification of some midrashim as Tannaitic should also be abandoned.
If by the term one means that only tannaim are cited in the text, the rest of
the midrashic literature should be classified as Tannaitic-Amoraic, a
classification which, to my knowledge, fortunately has not been proposed
by anyone. If the term is meant to indicate the period in which the texts
came into being, I believe that the work has not been done which would
establish this as a fact. Therefore, I suggest that we also abandon this term
as a classification for midrashic documents.
Tannaitic' compilations, therefore, refer only to documents that contain
exegeses attributed solely to tannaim.While the redactors of these documents
perhaps view them as forming the earliest stage of rabbinic exegesis, we have
no evidence that this is indeed the case. Rather, we can conclude that these
documents present us with the earliest traditions assigned to tannaim.
I note that in not accepting the tannaitic attributions at face value, and in
distinguishing between exegeses attributed to tannaim in earlier and later
documents, this paper differs from two earlier studies of the exegesis of the
golden calf episode, A. Marmorstein, 'Judaism and Christianity in the
Middle of the Third Century', in J. Rabbinowitz and M.S. Lew, eds., Studies
in Jewish Theology. Arthur Marmorstein Memorial Volume, London: Oxford
University Press, 1950, pp. 179-224, and L. Smolar and M. Aberbach, 'The
Golden Calf Episode in Postbiblical Literature', HUCA 39 (1969), pp. 91-
116. While there is much to be learned from both of these studies, their
conclusions must be carefully reviewed in light of the methodological issues
mentioned above.
5. These compilations include Mishnah, Tosefta,and the documents
listed in note 3.1 select traditions solely from tannaitic compilations in order
to examine the earliest traditions attributed to tannaim. A separate study is
necessary to examine tannaitic traditions that appear in later documents.
6. In order to focus on these themes in particular, I include only those
tannaitic traditions that directly deal with them. Other traditions dealing
with the golden calf and attributed to tannaim (excluding those concerned
with the breaking of the tablets and the role of the Levites, which require
studies of their own), include m. Meg. 4.10C-D, t. Meg. 4(3).36-37, t.
Kippurim 5(4).17L-V, t. Sot. 6.6, t. A.Z. 3(4).19, Mekhilta Wayassa 1 (ed.
Horovitz-Rabin, p. 153, 11. 6-17), Mekhilta Beshallah 7 (ed. Horovitz-Rabin,
p. 112,1. 16-p. 113,1. 3), and Sifre Deuteronomy 43.3-4. With the exception
o f t . Kippurim 5(4).17V (cited in note 18, below), however, all of the other
tannaitic traditions are consistent with the interpretation that this is a story
of sin, punishment, and forgiveness.
7. The translation is that of Jacob Neusner, The Tosefta Translated from
the Hebrew. Second Division. Moed (The Order of Appointed Times}
(henceforth: Tosefta Moed}, New York: Ktav, 1983, p. 3.
8. For a discussion of the possible reasons for this comparison, and for a
similar statement in Tractate Sofrim that compares the translation of the
Torah into Greek to the day of the calf, see Saul Lieberman, Tosefta
Kifshutah: A Comprehensive Commentary on the Tosefta,New York: Jewish
Theological Seminary, 1962, III, p. 15, on 11. 37-38.
9. So Reuven Hammer, Sifre: A Tannaitic Commentary on the Book of
Deuteronomy, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986, p. 391 n. 25.
10. The numbering of pericopae in Sifre Deuteronomy is that of Jacob
Neusner, Sifre to Deuteronomy: An Analytical Translation, Atlanta: Scholars
Press, 2 vols., 1987. The translation of this and all pericopae from
Sifre to Deuteronomy draws upon the translations of both Neusner and
Hammer (ibid.}. The translation of biblical verses throughout this paper is
generally that ofTanakh: A New Translation of the Holy Scriptures According
to the Traditional Hebrew Text, Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication
Society, 1985, except where cited as part of another translator's rendering of
a rabbinic text or where modified to fit the rabbinic context in which the
verse is cited.
11. See Hammer (ibid., p. 391 n. 23), who explains 'the gold is enough' to
mean 'the sin of the golden calf was sufficient to establish their guilt and to
make it impossible for God to overlook what they have done. All else pales in
comparison with this sin.' On the meaning of zotrh as both 'sufficient' and
'overlook', see Hammer, ibid., n. 24. B's comment may also be based in part
on the appearance of 'Di-Zahab' last in the list of Deut. 1.1, which might
have been taken to imply that the sin of the calf was the climax of the series
of transgressions that Israel committed in the wilderness.
12. See, for example, Targum Pseudo-Jonathan to Exod. 32.7, which cites
this phrase with reference to the calf.
13. The translation of Sifre Numbers 1.10.2-3 is that of Jacob Neusner,
Sifre to Numbers: An American Translation and Explanation, Atlanta:
Scholars Press, 1986,1, pp. 56-57.
14. See the comment of Rabad, ad loc.
15. I-M's discussion of Aaron's own consciousness of his situation may
have originally not concerned the sin of the calf at all, for, in contrast to C
and F-G, J-L does not mention this transgression. Moreover, the phrase si'
yhyh Ibw Idbr 'hr ('so that his heart might not stray') may refer simply to a general
reluctance to assume public office, rather than a concern with this particular
sin (see Rabad's explanation ofSifra, Sav, Mekhilta de-Miluim 1.2, where
this phrase is used with regard to the Levites and Joshua as well as of Aaron).
In addition, we would expect M to cite Lev. 9.7 rather than Lev. 8.1. It is
possible, therefore, that the redactor of the pericope reinterprets J-L, which
may have originally concerned a general unwillingness to assume public
office, to refer to the sin of the calf in particular. If so, the redactor sought to
supplement A-D and E-H, which describe Aaron's distancing, with an
account of Aaron's own inner feelings.
16. So Nahmanides (Commentary to the Pentateuch, cited by Weiss,
Masoret Hatalmud, ad loc.\ readingystynk ('[lest] he accuse you') forysn'k
('will hate you'). The former reading seems preferable, for according to it
Moses and Aaron fear not Satan's hatred, but Satan's role as accuser, for
Satan could bring up the sin of the calf and prevent Aaron from fulfilling his
duties.
17. The numbering of pericopae in Leviticus Kabbah is that of Jacob
Neusner, Judaism and Scripture: The Evidence of Leviticus Kabbah
(Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1986).
18. As far as I can determine, the only tradition attributed to tannaim that
apologizes for the actions of Israel is that of Akiba at t. Kippurim 5(4).17L-V
(trans. Neusner, Tosefta Moed, p. 210):
L. At what point in the service does he say the [confession on the Day
of Atonement]?
M. After the Prayer.
N. The one who passes before the ark says it in the fourth [bene-
diction].
O. R. Meir says, 'He prays seven [benedictions] and concludes the
confession [with a blessing]'.
P. And sages say, 'He prays seven [benedictions].
Q. 'And if he wanted to conclude the confession with a blessing, he does
so.'
R. 'And he has to specify each individual sin', the words of R. Judah b.
Patera,
S. as it is said, 'O Lord, these people have sinned a great sin [and have
made a god of gold]' (Exod. 32.31).
T. R. Akiba says, 'It is not necessary [to list each sin].
U. 'If so, why does it say, "And made a god of gold?"'
V. 'But: Thus did the Omnipresent say, "Who made you make a god of
gold? It is I, who gave you plenty of gold."'
In contrast to Judah b. Patera, who understands 'and made a god of gold'

(Exod. 32.31) to be Moses' specification of Israel's sin, Akiba apparently
attributes this phrase to God rather than to Moses, and understands it to
imply God's acceptance of responsibility for the sin. I note, however, that
Akiba's purpose is to render Exod. 32.31 compatible with his ruling at U, and
not primarily to defend Israel's actions. In any event, it is noteworthy that
this is the only tradition among exegeses attributed to tannaim that denies
Israel's responsibility for the sin of the calf.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
1. Editions of primary works

Finkelstein, Louis (ed.), Sifre on Deuteronomy, 1939. Reprint, New York The Jewish
Theological Seminary of America, 1969.
Horovitz, H.S. (ed.), Siphre d'be Rab, 1917. Reprint, Jerusalem: Wahrmann Books,
1966.
Horovitz, H.S. and Israel Rabin (eds.), Mechilta d'Rabbi Ishmael, 1930. Second
edition, Jerusalem: Wahrmann Books, 1970.
Lieberman, Saul (ed.), The Tosefta According to Codex Vienna, with Variants from
Codices Erfurt, London, Genizah Mss and Editio Princeps (Venice, 1521). II. The
Order of Moed, New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary of America,
1962.
Weiss, I.H. (ed.), Sifra debe Rab, 1862. Reprint, New York: Ohm, 1946.
2. Translations and secondary works

Hammer, Reuven, Sifre: A Tannaitic Commentary on the Book of Deuteronomy, New
Haven: Yale University Press, 1986.
Lieberman, Saul, Tosefta Kifshutah: A Comprehensive Commentary on the Tosefta. HI.
Shabbat-Erubin, New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary of America,
1962.
Marmorstein, A., 'Judaism and Christianity in the Middle of the Third Century', in J.
Rabbinowitz and M.S. Lew (eds.), Studies in Jewish Theology. Arthur Marmorstein
Memorial Volume, London: Oxford University Press, 1950, pp. 179-224.
Neusner, Jacob, Judaism and Scripture: The Evidence of Leviticus Rabbah, Chicago:
The University of Chicago Press, 1986.
Sifre to Deuteronomy: An Analytical Translation, Atlanta: Scholars Press, 2 vols., 1987.
Sifre to Numbers: An American Translation and Explanation, Atlanta: Scholars
Press, 1986.
The Tosefta Translated from the Hebrew. Second Division. Moed (The Order of
Appointed Times), New York: Ktav, 1983.
Porton, Gary, 'Defining Midrash', in Jacob Neusner (ed.), The Study of Ancient
Judaism, I, New York: Ktav, 1981, pp. 55-92.
Smolar, L. and M. Aberbach, 'The Golden Calf Episode in Postbiblical Literature',
HUCA 39 (1969), pp. 91-116.
Tanakh: A New Translation of the Hebrew Scriptures According to the Traditional
Hebrew Text, Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1985.
PART IV
JUDAISM AND CHRISTIANITY IN HISTORY
KOSHER OLIVE OIL IN ANTIQUITY
Martin Goodman
Oxford Centre for Postgraduate Hebrew Studies
I hope that it may be thought appropriate to offer to Geza Vermes,

who has dedicated much of his scholarly life to the elucidation of the
varied nature of Judaism and the attitudes of Jews towards their
tradition in late antiquity, a study of a religious development which
both originated and came to an end in this period.
The problem to be tackled may be stated quite succinctly. In the
hellenistic period some Jews objected to using oil produced by non-
Jews. Some time in the third century CE the rabbinic patriarch and
his court decreed that the ban on gentile oil was no longer to be
enforced, and their decision seems to have been generally followed, if
not immediately then at least within a few generations. No ancient
text gives an adequate explanation either of the original prohibition
or of the later relaxation. My purpose is to investigate the underlying
religious attitudes which might account for both developments.1
Olive oil was an item of considerable importance in the economy
of the land of Israel. Oil was one of the three staple products of the
land (Deut. 11.14; 2 Kings 18.32). Of the many varieties of oil, olive
oil was among the most expensive, but it was widely used for
cosmetics (Eccl. 9.7-8), for medicine (Isa. 1.6), and as a fuel for lamps
(cf. R. Tarfon in m. Shabb. 2.2, on the Sabbath lights). It was of
course a ubiquitous ingredient in food. Josephus made special
mention of the productivity of olive trees in the hills of Galilee (BJ
2.592). The concern of the inhabitants to ensure their supply of olive
oil is illustrated by finds of oil presses on Mount Hermon some way
above the height at which olive trees flourish.2 Whether olives
actually grew at such a height in antiquity or were transported raw to
the upland settlements for processing is unclear. In either case the
importance attributed to the product is striking.3
In this reliance on olive oil the Jews of Palestine shared in the

general culture of the Mediterranean region. By the time of the early
Roman empire olive cultivation was almost universally found in
lowland coastal regions, and the long-distance trade in high quality
luxury oil was equalled in bulk and distribution only by the trade in
wine.4
When Jews decided in the Hellenistic and early Roman imperial
period not to use gentile olive oil, they were, then, deliberately
turning their backs on some of the more widely traded goods in their
society. But it may be that by the time such trade had fully evolved in
the last centuries BCE, Jews could already justify the taboo to
themselves by claiming reliance on ancient tradition, for the first
evidence for a prohibition on the use of gentile oil may date back to
before 281 BCE.
According to Josephus (Ant. 12.119-120), Seleucus Nicator, who
ruled from 312 to 281 BCE, gave special privileges to the Jews as
follows.
Seleucus Nicator granted them citizenship in the cities which he

founded in Asia and Lower Syria and in his capital, Antioch, itself,
and declared them to have equal privileges with the Macedonians
and Greeks who were settled in these cities, so that this citizenship
of theirs remains to this day; and the proof of this is the fact that he
gave orders that those Jews who were unwilling to use foreign oil
should receive a fixed sum of money from the gymnasiarchs to pay
for their own kind of oil; and, when in the present war the people of
Antioch proposed to revoke this privilege, Mucianus, who was then
governor of Syria, maintained it.
If Josephus is to be trusted, at least some Jews in Asia Minor and/or

Syria were unwilling to use foreign oil before 281 BCE. How many
Jews followed this line is not clear: TOU? 'louSaiou? uf] f3oi)Ax>u8Vou<;
may mean 'the Jews who did not want' or, more probably, 'those
GOODMAN Kosher Olive Oil in Antiquity 229
Jewsi.e. only somewho did not want'. It is quite likely on general

grounds that Josephus ascribed the grant of this privilege to an
earlier period than was the case, and that in fact a later Seleucid
monarch, such as Antiochus III, who ruled from 223 to 187 BCE, was
responsible,5 but in any case it seems certain that the custom was
well established in the Hellenistic period.
Whenever the taboo started, two things about it are established
from this passage. First, Jews kept up the habit in the late sixties CE
during the First Revolt, when Mucianus as governor of Syria
permitted them to maintain their privilege. Second, the complaint
expressed about unkosher oil was that it was foreign, allophulon, and
Josephus could take it for granted that the reasonableness of this
objection was sufficiently self-evident not to need spelling out to his
readers, most of whom would be gentile.
Josephus' reason for taking the taboo so much for granted was
probably simply that it was part of his own lifestyle, for the only
other context in which the ban on gentile oil is mentioned in his
writings involved an incident in his own career. The incident was
described by Josephus twice, with interesting divergences between
the two accounts.
First, at BJ 2.591-592, Josephus included the following passage in
his attack on his long-standing rival, John of Gischala.
He next contrived to play a very crafty trick: with the avowed

object of protecting all the Jews of Syria from the use of oil not
supplied by their own countrymen, he sought and obtained
permission to deliver it to them at the frontier. He then bought up
that commodity, paying Tyrian coin of the value of four Attic
drachms for four amphorae and proceeded to sell half an amphora
at the same price. As Galilee is a special home of the olive and the
crop had been plentiful, John, enjoying a monopoly, by sending
large quantities to districts in want of it, amassed an immense sum
of money, which he forthwith employed against the man who had

brought him his gains.
However tendentious and exaggerated the attack, Josephus must
have assumed that it would at least sound plausible to Jewish
readers. The oil supplied jnf) 81' 6jao(|)uAxov in this passage is the
equivalent of the ctAA,o<J>uAx)v eAmov in the passage from Antiquities
first quoted.
When Josephus returned to the same incident in his later account
in the Vita (74-6), he gave a slightly different version of the same
events.
This knavish trick John followed up with a second. He stated that

the Jewish inhabitants of Caesarea Philippi, having, by the king's
order, been shut up by Modius, his viceroy, and having no pure oil
with which to anoint themselves, had sent a request to him to see
that they were supplied with this commodity, lest they should be
driven to violate their legal ordinances by resort to Grecian oil.
John's motive in making this assertion was not piety, but
profiteering of the most barefaced description; for he knew that at
Caesarea two pints were sold for one drachm, whereas at Gischala
eighty pints could be had for four drachms. So he sent off all the oil
in the place, having ostensibly obtained my authority to do so. My
permission I gave reluctantly, from fear of being stoned by the mob
if I withheld it. Thus, having gained my consent, John by this sharp
practice made an enormous profit.
The story as a whole is more plausible in this version. Only the Jews
of Caesarea Philippi are involved, and it is easier to imagine
economic interchange of this sort in the middle of a war if it took

place between the rebels in Galilee and the subjects of the Jewish, if
pro-Roman, king Agrippa II, than to credit the claim in BJ that John
traded with 'all the Jews in Syria', a province firmly controlled by the
Roman enemy. In this case the kosher oil, described as pure
(KaGapov), is contrasted to a specific form of gentile oil, namely
Grecian oil (eAAriviKov). It is asserted that the concern of the Jews in
Caesarea Philippi was over the use of such oil for anointing
themselves (if, as I think preferable, the minority manuscript reading
Xptoovrai is read rather than xp*iaovtai). Again, it is significant that
Josephus took it for granted that his readers would appreciate the
issues at stakeunlike his earlier works, Josephus' Vita was aimed
primarily at a Jewish audience. For such readers the statement that
Jews using Grecian oil would transgress the laws (to. v6|aiua
napapaivoooiv) would sound like a straightforward statement that
such behaviour involved breaking the Torah.
If such an attitude was so standard among Jews at the end of the
first century CE, some explanation needs to be found for the
remarkable statement dropped into the Mishnah tractate Abodah
Zarah (2.6), redacted a little over a century later.
These things of gentiles are forbidden, but it is not prohibited to

derive any benefit from them: milk that a gentile milked but no
Israelite watched him, and their bread and their oilRabbi and his
court permitted the oilboiled or preserved vegetables into which
it is their custom to put wine or vinegar, and hashed, pickled fish,
and brine in which no fish is distinguishable (with no sticklebacks
floating in it), and the finless fish, and drops of asafoetida, and
lumpy salt. Behold, these are forbidden, but it is not prohibited to
have any benefit from them.
'Rabbi and his court permitted the oil.' The clause looks like a later
insertion into a list of the forbidden food of idolaters. It does not fit
its present context either in its meaning or in its grammar. In the
Babylonian Talmud (b. Abodah Zarah 37a) it is in one place assumed
that it was not R. Judah I but his grandson, R. Judah Nesiah, who
took the lenient decision described. Since the Mishnah was compiled
by R. Judah I, the lack of editing to incorporate the words into the
surrounding texts fits well into the tradition that the reform took
place two generations after his time. However, both Talmuds also
referred the reform at other places to R. Judah I.6 Perhaps in the case
of a controversial decision which relied on the authority of the
issuing court and which elicited opposition (as thegemara attests [see
below]), both patriarchs felt impelled to issue decrees, just as Roman
emperors sometimes reissued laws when they were not widely
observed.
The Mishnah text itself gave absolutely no explanation either for
the original ban or for its lifting. This is not unusual for halakhic
decisions recorded in tannaitic texts, but this particular case rather
puzzled the amoraim, as can be seen from an examination of the
discussion of the point in the Babylonian Talmud. The most relevant
part of the text, to be found at b. Abodah Zarah 35b-36a, reads as
follows.
1
4
Section 1: And their oil. As regards oil Rab said: Daniel decreed
against its use; but Samuel said: The residue from their unclean
vessels renders it prohibited. Is this to say that people generally are
concerned to eat their food in a state of ritual purity!Rather the
residue from their prohibited vessels renders it prohibited.
Section 2: Samuel said to Rab: According to my explanation that

the residue from their prohibited vessels renders it prohibited, it is
quite right that when R. Isaac b. Samuel b. Martha came he related
that R. Simlai expounded in Nisibis: As regards oil R. Judah and
his Court took a vote and declared it permitted, holding the
opinion that [when the forbidden element] imparts a worsened
flavour [the mixture] is permitted. But according to your statement
that Daniel decreed against it, [can it be thought that] Daniel made
a decree and R. Judah the Prince then came and annulled it? For
have we not learned: A Court is unable to annul the decisions of
another Court, unless it is superior to it in wisdom and numerical
strength!
Section 3: Rab replied to him: You quote Simlai of Lud; but the
inhabitants of Lud are different because they are neglectful.
[Samuel] said to him: Shall I send for him? [Rab] thereupon grew
alarmed and said: If [R. Judah and his Court] have not made
proper research, shall we not do so? Surely it is written, 'But
Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not defile himself with
the king's meat nor with the wine of his drinking'the verse speaks
of two drinkings, the drinking of wine and the drinking of oil! Rab
was of the opinion that Daniel purposed in his own heart and
decided similarly for all Israel; whereas Samuel was of the opinion
that he purposed in his own heart but did not decide similarly for
all Israel.
Section 4: But did Daniel decree against oil? Behold Bali declared
that Abimi the Nabatean said in the name of Rab: Their bread, oil,
wine and daughters are all included in the eighteen things! Should
you argue that Daniel came and made the decree but it was not
accepted, and then the disciples of Hillel and Shammai came and
made the decree and it was accepted; in that case what was the
purpose of Rab's testimony?But Daniel decreed against the use
of the oil in a city, and [the disciples] came and decreed against its
use even in a field.
Section 5: How, then, was it possible for R. Judah the Prince to

permit [what was forbidden by] the ordinance of the disciples of
Shammai and Hillel, seeing that we have learned: A court is unable
to annul the decisions of another Court, unless it is superior to it in
wisdom and numerical strength! Furthermore, Kabbah b. Bar
Hanah has said in the name of R. Johanan: In all matters a Court
can annul the decisions of another Court except the eighteen
things, for even were Elijah and his Court to come we must not
listen to him!R. Mesharsheya said: The reason is because their
prohibition has spread among the large majority of Israelites, but
the prohibition concerning oil did not so spread.
The amoraim were concerned to establish whether the original
interdiction was a precaution against contamination by vessels
rendered unkosher by other ingredients or was the result of a decree
issued either by Daniel (relying on the pleonastic 'wine of his
drinking' in Daniel 1.8, which they took to include oil as a second
forbidden beverage after wine) or by the Houses of Hillel and
Shammai as one of the eighteen decisions of the disciples at the start
of the great revolt against Rome. The main rabbis cited, Samuel and
Rab, taught in the second quarter of the third century or later and,
since they appear to respond to it, presumably after the lifting of the
ban by R. Judah Nesiah. Two reasons are given in this passage for
that lifting. According to R. Simlai, as quoted by R. Isaac b. Samuel
b. Martha, R. Judah held that the forbidden element in the oil
imparts a worse flavour, and therefore the oil is permitted. The
second opinion is put forward in the name of R. Mesharsheya, that
the ban was in any case not in general accepted by Jews.
Discussion of the various opinions put forward by the sages in this
passage may be further complicated by noting a variant reading of
line 3, which is to be found in the early commentaries.7 These texts,
which read DIJ "?tf jnfi^r instead of ofts ? ;nu% imply in the light
off. Abodah Zarah 4(5).8 that Samuel's opinion was not that the
discharge of the impure or forbidden vessels in which oil was stored
that made it unfit, but that they were defiled through the gentile
habit of sprinkling olives with wine or vinegar to facilitate the
removal of the pits. This understanding of the Mishnah's prohibition
brings the ban on oil into the same category as the vegetables which
are mentioned next in the text, since they too are prohibited because
sprinkled with wine or vinegar. However, no reference is made to
such sprinkling in the ban on gentile milk and bread, which appear
immediately before the ban on oil in the Mishnah text.
Reference to the discussion of the same Mishnah in the Yerushalmi
(y. Abodah Zarah 2.8, 41d) produces more opinions but no greater
clarity on any of these issues.
1
in Krotoschin edition
1: Who forbade the oil? Rab Judah said, 'Daniel forbade it: "And
Daniel resolved, etc."'
2: And who permitted it? Rabbi and his court. In three settings R.
Judah the patriarch is referred to as 'our rabbi', in the context of
writs of divorce, oil, and [producing an abortion in the shape of a]
sandal. In consequence they referred to his court as the court that
permitted anointing [with oil]. Any court that gave a lenient ruling
in three matters is called a permissive court.
3: Said R. Judan, 'Rabbi's court differed from him in the matter of

the writ of divorce'. What is [the issue]? That [the woman] is
permitted to [re] marry. R. Haggai said, 'She is permitted to marry'.
R. Yose said, 'She is forbidden to marry'.
4: R. Aha, R. Tanhum bar Hiyya in the name of R. Haninah, and

some say it in the name of R. Joshua b. Levi: 'Because they were
going up to the Royal Mountain and being put to death on it'.
5: Isaac bar Samuel bar Marta went down to Nisibis. He found

Simlai, the southerner, sitting and expounding: 'Rabbi and his
court permitted oil'. He said [the rule before] Samuel, [who
thereupon] ate. Rab did not accept the rule for himself or eat. He
said to him, 'Samuel ate. If you do not do the same, I shall decree
concerning you that you are a "rebellious elder".' [Rab] replied to
him, 'When I was still there [in the Land], I know that Simlai, the
southerner, rejected'. [Samuel] said to him, 'Did [Simlai] say this
in his own name? Did he not say it in the name of R. Judah
Nesiah?' Samuel nagged him about the matter until he too ate.
6: R.Yohanan raised the question: 'And have we not learned in the

Mishnah that a court has not got the power to nullify the opinion of
another court unless it is greater than it in wisdom and in numbers?
Now how is it possible that Rabbi and his court should permit what
Daniel and his colleagues had prohibited?'
7: R. Yohanan is consistent with his opinion expressed elsewhere.

For R. Yohanan said, 'I have received it as a tradition from R.
Eleazar of the school of R. Sadoq that any decree a court should
issue, and which the majority of the community should not accept
upon itself, is no decree'. They looked into the matter and found in
the decree against oil and they did not find that the majority of the
community had accepted upon itself.
The view ascribed in the Babylonian Talmud to Rab, that the ban
was initiated by Daniel, was here attributed to his pupil R. Judah bar
Ezekiel (/?. end of third century). No mention was made of any
discussion by the Houses of Hillel and Shammai. Some modern
scholars have assumed that the obscure statement given by R. Aha
and (?) R. Tanhum bar Hiyya in the name of R. Haninah or R.
Joshua b. Levi, the last named being an amora contemporary with R.
Judah Nesiah, that something happened 'because they were going up
to the Mountain of the King and being killed (on this account? on the
mountain?)' was given as an explanation of the acceptance of
Daniel's prohibition, on the grounds that Jews thus avoided the
gentiles who inhabited the mountain.8 But this is not the only
possible interpretation of the phrase, for other scholars have
supposed that, on the contrary, it was intended to explain the lifting
of the ban, on the grounds that the mountain was farmed by Jews
and was therefore the best place to get pure oil.9 It also seems to me
possible that neither of these hypotheses is correct and that the
statement may have referred not to oil at all, but to the issue raised in
the immediately preceding discussion in the talmudic text, which
concerned the remarriage of a widow whose husband had given her a
writ of divorce to become valid if he did not return within twelve
months but had died within that period.
These diverse explanations by the amoraim of the ban on gentile
oil seem to me irreconcilable and the distinction proposed anonymously
in the Babylonian Talmud passage (Section 4) between decrees valid
in a city and those valid in a field strikes me as a counsel of
desperation by an editor or editors determined to resolve discord
whenever possible. Such irreconcilability is not altogether uncommon
in rabbinic texts. More significant is the weakness of each of the
amoraic opinions when they are examined individually. Such
weakness can only be demonstrated by looking at each opinion in
some detail.
Following the order in the Babylonian Talmud, I shall start with
the views of Rab, who ascribed the ban both to Daniel and to the
eighteen decisions of the Houses of Hillel and Shammai. Neither
notion is very convincing. Rab's exegesis of Daniel 1.8 was hardly the
obvious reading of the biblical text and seems to have been unknown
to earlier commentators on the passage. Thus Josephus described
Daniel and his friends as determined to stay vegetarian but prepared
to eat any non-animal food provided to them (AJ 10.190-194).
As for the ascription of the decree to the eighteen decisions of the

Houses in 66 CE, the link was not mentioned in the discussion of oil
in the Jerusalem Talmud or in the earliest extant rabbinic lists of the
components of the decrees. In the Mishnah (m. Shabb. 1.4) the
precise contents of the decrees were not spelled out and the whole
discussion in b. Shabb. 13b-17b presupposes great uncertainty as to
what they were. In y. Shabb. 1.5, 3c, the list of eighteen things
ascribed to R. Shimon bar Yohai (fl. mid second century) did not
include oil, although oil was included in an anonymous baraita in the
same passage.10 But in any case it is hard to reconcile an origin of the
custom in 66 CE with Josephus' assertion that the taboo was already
long-standing in Antioch by that time, and it can be reckoned most
unlikely that Josephus would have mentioned the custom with
apparent approval if it had originated in a fit of anti-Roman zealotry.
It is worth noting that the Jews of Syria and/or Caesarea Philippi
who observed the taboos in 67 CE were presumably not strongly anti-
Roman since they had not gone south to join their compatriots in
revolt. (Josephus stated [Vita 74] that the Jews had been shut up in
Caesarea Philippi by Modius, Agrippa IPs viceroy, but if John of
Gischala's kosher oil could get in, presumably Jews could get out.)
Attempts have been made in the past to circumvent this problem
of an apparent conflict between the evidence in Josephus and the
evidence in the Talmud by distinguishing the ban described by
Josephus from that ascribed to the Houses.11 Thus, as Hoenig
pointed out, the prohibition to which Josephus referred was observed
in the diaspora and is not explicitly attested in Judaea, where the
Houses issued their decree. Hoenig claimed that this is best
explained if the diaspora ban was observed only as a way of avoiding
idolatry, and the xenophobic decree of the Houses was therefore
something new and specifically Judaean. The idea is not impossible
but, although oil was indeed one ingredient in pagan ritual, this fact
is not given as a reason for avoiding gentile oil in any ancient text. It
may be added in support of Hoenig that Josephus seems to have
envisaged a taboo on the use of gentile oil as an ointment whereas the
rabbinic texts include oil in the list of forbidden foods but, again, I
am not sure how much can be made of this. It may be assumed that
any substance considered unfit as ointment was a fortiori reckoned
unsuitable as food. (The only reason I can find to doubt this is the
testimony of Josephus [BJ 2.123], that Essenes, who may well have
used oil of some kind in their food, refused to put any oil on their
bodies, reckoning it as a defilement [Kf|A,i8a], But the case was not

strictly parallel, for Essenes simply wished to keep their skin dry.) In
any case the contrast betwen oil as food and oil as ointment may be
spurious, for the word used to designate oil in one place (Section 2) in
the Jerusalem Talmud passage quoted above was NriK^D, i.e.
'anointing'.
Rather more convincing than Rab's ascription of the ban to a
decree at one time or another is the explanation for the ban put
forward according to the Babylonian Talmud by Mar Samuel, that
the oil was in some way contaminated by gentiles' additives. This
view fits in with Josephus' description of Jewish oil as 'pure' (Vita
74), and, as Samuel is made to point out in the Talmudic passage
(Section 2), it did at least make sense of the reason for lifting the ban
attributed to R. Judah by R. Simlai, that when the forbidden element
in a mixture imparts a worsened flavour the mixture is permitted.
But that reason itself has an air of improvization. The residue or
sprinkling believed to make oil forbidden consisted probably of
gentile wine suspected of use in libations, although it cannot be
shown that other contaminants were not also envisaged. If 'residue'
is read, it is possible that an amphora or other container once used
for wine and re-used for oil might impart a taste to the oil; if it was
resinated wine, the taste of the oil might be rather unpleasant, so that
the alleged reason for lifting the ban would also make sense.
However, there is not much evidence for such re-use of amphorae or
other vessels, for reasons which are clear enough: if the wine residue
made the oil taste worse, gentiles will only have re-used vessels when
no more appropriate container was available. Since the quantity of
pottery produced throughout the Roman empire was vast, this was
surely a rare occurrence, and it is hard to imagine that suspicion of
such defilement was the main reason for the banning of gentile oil.
Similar arguments apply to the sprinkling of olives with wine or
vinegar by gentiles, if DÎJ is read rather than 0^3 (see above). The
practice certainly occurred, for it is explicitly described at t. Abodah
Zarah 4(5).8. But it can surely be assumed that, unless the gentiles
concerned were very foolish, the custom was not believed to impart a
worse taste to the oil.
It seems to me best to stop looking for biblical proof texts or
specific occasions for the ban and to accept instead that the confusion
of the amoraic sources may have reflected a genuine lack of
considered reasons for the prohibition. That is to say, the widespread
custom among Jews of avoiding gentile oil may have been based
neither on biblical exegesis nor on a decision by an accepted
authority but on a pervasive religious instinct which was all the more
powerful for its lack of rationale.
The instinct to avoid gentile foodstuffs of various common kinds
was a novel phenomenon among Jews of the late Persian or early
Hellenistic period. It had no explicit connection with a concern for
levitical purity. Since it occurred after the composition of most of the
holy books eventually reckoned canonical, the phenomenon was
hardly attested in biblical texts which could be used as justification
for the custom. The late books in which the practice is assumed (e.g.
Judith 10.5; 12.1-4; Tobit 1.10-11) were not included in sacred
scripture, apart from the book of Daniel.12 It is a plausible hypothesis
(which by its very nature can neither be proved nor disproved) that
this extension of food taboos to separate not just holy from profane
but, more specifically, Jew from gentile, is best explained by social
and cultural changes in the lives of Jews in this period rather than the
development of novel religious theories.
If this is correct, it may be misleading to describe intertestamental
Judaism as did the amoraim, as if it consisted essentially in a number
of competing systems of halakhah which differed either because of the
decrees of competing religious authorities or because of their
divergent methods of interpreting the Bible. Biblical interpretation
was undoubtedly one generating force in religious innovation. But in
many cases where a biblical text was cited in support of particular
behaviour, the impetus for that behaviour was already present in the
form of custom or instinctive attitude. Whether such custom counted
as part of the Torah for any set of Jews was perhaps only a matter of
terminology. It might also depend on the audience addressed: some
of the unexpected items in Josephus' list of the Jewish laws in C. Ap.
2.190-219, such as the Jewish ban on taking spoils from the corpses of
their enemies (212), might be seen by some Jews as custom rather
than law, but it suited Josephus' apologetic when writing for gentiles
to include such philanthropic behaviour within the law.13
If the taboo depended on instinct rather than biblical interpretation
or a religious authority, why and how was it successfully abolished?
It cannot be said that the reasons given in the rabbinic sources
themselves for the decision by R. Judah and his court are very
convincing. The view attributed to R. Judah by R. Simlai, that
mixture with a forbidden substance did not invalidate oil because it
left a bad taste, has been discussed above and found not impossible
but rather implausible. Little can be achieved by expatiating on the
strange reference, also discussed above, to death on the King's
Mountain. It is hard to know how much credence to give to the claim
of R. Mesharsheya that the ban was easily lifted because it was not
observed by the majority of Israel; since Mesharsheya spoke in the
name R. Samuel b. Abba, who in turn quoted R. Yohanan, the
younger contemporary of R. Judah Nesiah, he himself probably
taught a considerable time after R. Judah and may not have
preserved accurate traditions about religious attitudes which prevailed
long before his birth. It is difficult to explain why Jews should have
dropped the traditional aversion to gentile oil which had apparently
been so keenly felt in Josephus' day. It may be worth pointing out
that, according to the Jerusalem Talmud passage quoted above
(Section 7), Yohanan taught not that the nasfs lifting of the ban was
justified but that it was unnecessary, because any decree which the
majority of Jews ignore is not a decree, and this was the case with
Daniel's prohibition of gentile oil.
If adoption of any one of the amoraic opinions is not satisfactory,
the only way to account both for R. Judah's action and for the
diversity of rabbinic opinion about it is to construct a plausible
model into which the disparate evidence can be seen to fit. Various
more or less fanciful pictures can be imagined. It is not impossible,
for example, that R. Judah issued a deliberate challenge to his
contemporaries' deep religious feelings in order to demonstrate his
authority by imposing his will; some evidence survives of a power
struggle between the nasi and the sages in his day and the issue of
gentile oil might have been a trial of strength.14 More plausible is an
economic motive, although quite what it would be is hard to
envisage: the Jews in Galilee for whom R. Judah Nesiah is most
likely to have legislated in the mid-third century inhabited one of the
more favoured olive producing regions of the Near East and,
whatever other goods they may have lacked, it is implausible that
Jewish olive oil was a scarce commodity. If there were other, more
complex, economic reasons for lifting the ban, no evidence of their
nature survives.15
It seems to me that a more plausible model may be constructed by
trying to explain rabbinic legislation about gentile oil against the
background of a general picture of the development of Jewish law in
the Hellenistic and early Roman periods. There are good reasons to
suppose that much of the law enshrined in the Mishnah was not
originally enacted by rabbis but existed before 70 CE in the form of
customary law. Thus the marriage, divorce and contract law in use in
the early second century in the Dead Sea area had much in common
with the law presupposed by the Mishnah.16 This does not require
(though it does not preclude) the origin of that law having been in
rabbinical schools but it is more likely that the Mishnah consists to a
large extent of the rationalization of an existing legal system. Such
rationalization involved deduction following a series of rules, some of
which were at some time codified as the thirteen middoth of R.
Ishmael (Sifra Lev, 1). Whenever possible a rule was to be derived
from an existing rule or directly from a biblical text.
In most cases a rationale of current behaviour could be found but
not all existing custom could pass the rabbis' logical test. The
hypothesis I wish to propose is that R. Judah could find no such valid
arguments for the ban on gentile olive oil, and that he therefore
decided that it should be abolished.
How plausible is this reconstruction of events? It cannot of course
be proved, but the curious data from Josephus and the rabbinic texts
discussed in this paper can all, I think, be accounted for more or less
satisfactorily if it is taken as correct. It may be assumed that the
tradition mooted after R. Judah's decision by Rab, that the ban was
one of the eighteen decisions of the Houses in 66 CE, was not
accepted by (or known to?) the patriarch since, as Rabbah b. Bar
Hanah stated in the name of R. Yohanan in the Babylonian Talmud
passage (Section 5), it was not permitted to overthrow such decisions
and R. Judah would therefore have been courting unnecessary
trouble by doing so. It may further be assumed that, if he was aware
of Rab's other suggestion that the prohibition derived from Daniel
1.8, he found it unreasonably far-fetchedaccording to Rab in the
extract quoted above from the Babylonian Talmud (Section 3), of
course, he was ignorant of the Daniel proof text because he had failed
to undertake proper research.
To sum up. What I suggest is that, since no reason for the ban
could be found by extension of existing halakhah or by biblical
exegesis, R. Judah was forced to surmise an explanation of the taboo.
All he could come up with was the supposition that contamination
from the vessels or gentile sprinkling habits must have been the issue.
But such an explanation seemed to him patently unsatisfactory. His
only possible reaction was to lift the ban.
If this hypothesis is accepted, the whole saga may bear a lesson of

somewhat wider significance. Codification may sometimes have
implied leniency. If so, the general picture derived both from the
rabbinic tradition itself and from the hostile depiction of Judaism in
some early Christian texts may usefully be adjusted. According to
that picture, halakhah was a system that constantly increased the
burden of the law by seeking new ramifications for its effective
imposition. But in some cases at the start of rabbinic codification in
the tannaitic and early amoraic period the same processes of
'legalism' may have had an opposite effect. If my suggestion is
correct, it was precisely the rationalization of the halakhah that
eventually abolished the concept of gentile olive oil as unkosher. At
any rate, since soon after the time of R. Judah Nesiah, all Jews, it
seems, have used such oil with a good conscience.17
NOTES
1. The only work specifically devoted to this topic is S.B. Hoenig, 'Oil
and Pagan Defilement', JQR 61 (1970/71), pp. 63-75.
2. Cf. S. Bar, 'The History of the Hermon Settlements', PEQ 120 (1988),
p. 37.
3. Apart from the greater ease in the transport of olives rather than oil, it
may be that people preferred to process their own oil to prevent adulteration
by inferior olives or other substances.
4. On the olive trade of the early Roman empire, see in general D.P.S.
Peacock and D.F. Williams, Amphorae and the Roman Economy: an
Introductory Guide, London and New York, 1986. For the economic
importance of this trade, see DJ. Mattingly, 'Oil for Export? A Comparison
of Libyan, Spanish and Tunisian Olive Oil Production in the Roman
Empire', J/L4 1 (1988), 33-56, but note that there has been more study of the
trade in this period in the Western Mediterranean than in the Levant. For
olive oil production in Roman Palestine, see the articles and bibliographies in
M. Heltzer and D. Eitamn, eds., Olive Oil in Antiquity: Israel and
Neighbouring Countries from Neolith to Early Arab Period, Haifa, 1987.
5. See R. Marcus, ed., Josephus: Works, vol. VII, Appendix c, 'The early
Seleucid Rulers and the Jews', Cambridge, Mass., 1943, repr. 1966, pp. 737-
42.
6. See b. Abodah Zarah 36a and y. Abodah Zarah 2.8, 41d, both cited
below. H. Albeck, Shisha Sidrei Mishnah, Seder Nezikin, Jerusalem and Tel
Aviv, 1953, p. 331, asserts simply that the Mishnah refers to R. Judah
Nesiah.
7. For the rest of this paragraph, see Z.A. Steinfeld, 'Concerning the
Prohibition against Gentile Oil', Tarbiz 49 (1980), pp. 264-77.
8. Cf. J. Neusner, The Talmud of the Land of Israel: a Preliminary
Translation and Explanation, vol. 33, Abodah Zarah, Chicago, 1982, p. 99. In
favor of this interpretation, note that in the parallel version of this passage in
y. Shabb. 1.5, 3d section 4 is placed immediately after section 1.
9. Cf. A. Oppenheimer, The 'Am Ha-aretz: a Study in the Social History
of the Jewish People in the Hellenistic-Roman Period, trans. I.H. Levine,
Leiden, 1977, p. 65. G. Alon, The Jews in their Land in their Talmudic Age
(70-640 C.E.), trans. G. Levi, vol. II, Jerusalem, 1984, p. 736, also
understood the text in this way and suggested that the enthusiasm of R.
Simlai of Lod for the lifting of the ban was occasioned by the greater threat
to safety in the south than in Galilee, since the royal mountain is to be
located in the Judaean hill country.
10. On the decrees, see the recent discussion of the tradition in I. Ben-
Shalom, 'The Shammai School and its Place in the Political and Social
History of Eretz Israel in the First Century A.D.', Ph.D. thesis Tel Aviv,
1980, pp. 562-98 (in Heb.).
11. Hoenig, 'Oil', passim. G. Alon, Jews, Judaism and the Classical World,
trans. I. Abrahams, Jerusalem, 1977, pp. 156-57, suggested that the eighteen
decrees (including the ban on oil) were a reinforcement of non-biblical
halakhot about gentile food which were not sufficiently observed in some
circles. This is possible, but there is no first-century evidence for such failure
to observe the taboo on oil.
12. Note that among the gentile foodstuffs avoided by Judith was gentile
oil (Judith 10.5).
13. See G. Vermes, 'A Summary of the Law by Flavius Josephus', NT 24
(1982), pp. 289-303.
14. On the relationship of the nasi to the rabbis, see L.I. Levine, 'The
Jewish Patriarch (Nasi) in Third Century Palestine', ANRWll (Principal)
19, part 2 (1979), pp. 678-80.
15. Cf. M. Goodman, State and Society in Roman Galilee, A.D. 132-212,
Totowa, NJ, 1983, p. 276, with a brief discussion of other possible (but
hypothetical) economic arguments, such as the possibility that high quality
Galilean oil might be exported at a sufficiently high price to pay for imports
of low grade foreign (gentile) oil, while leaving a surplus for other purchases.
S. Applebaum, 'Judea as a Roman province: the countryside as a political
and economic factor', ANRW II (Principal) 8 (1977), p. 373 n. 84, puts
forward an ingenious argument that the ban was lifted to benefit middlemen
who purchased olives for resale. The Jews who would benefit most might be
those in the Diaspora, but there no evidence that a third-century nasi would
legislate with them primarily in mind.
16. See P. Benoit, J.T. Milik and R. de Vaux, Les Grottes de Murabba'at
(Discoveries in the Judaean Desert, vol. II), Oxford, 1960.
17. I am grateful to participants at the Symposium on Jewish Food, held in

Yarn ton in June 1989, and to the members of the regular Yarnton discussion
group in October 1989, for their helpful comments on earlier drafts of this
paper.
JUDAISM AND CHRISTIANITY IN THE FIRST CENTURY:
HOW SHALL WE PERCEIVE THEIR RELATIONSHIP?*
Jacob Neusner
University of South Florida
From the Nazi period onward, the Roman Catholic Church has
formulated its relationship with Judaism in language and symbols
meant to identify with the Jewish People, God's first love. To signal
his opposition to anti-Semitism, Pope Pius said, 'Spiritually, we are
all Semites', and, in the aftermath of 'the Holocaust', successive
Popes and princes of the church have claimed for Roman Catholic
Christianity a rightful share in the spiritual patrimony of Abraham.
The epoch-making position of Vatican II marked only a stage forward
in the process of conciliation and reconciliation that has marked the
Roman Catholic framing of its relationship with both the Jewish
People and with Judaism. As an American I have followed with
enormous pride the particularly sustained and effective redefinition
of that relationship, which has had its effect upon the civil order and
public policy of my own country. The sages of Judaism define the
hero as one who turns an enemy into a friend, and the present
century's record of the Roman Catholic church, seen whole and
complete, must be called heroic.
And yet in consequence of that sustained and, I believe, holy work,
a theory of the relationship between Judaism and Christianity in the
first century has taken shape that I believe has exacted a price in both
learning and also self-esteem. That theory stems from the correct
claim of Christianity, in its embodiment here in Rome, to share in
the heritage of Abraham, spiritually to be Semites. That claim in its
initial formulation stands before us on the Bible, which is the
"The text of this paper was delivered as a lecture at the Pontifical Lateran
University, Rome, in January 1989.
systemic document of Christianity, and that Bible comprises the Old

Testament and the New Testament. I need hardly rehearse the simple
facts of the formation, by the Church of the second and third
centuries, of the Bible, the Christian Bible, the Bible that made
Christian the Hebrew Scriptures of ancient Israel. When the Church
Fathers took their stand against Marcion and in favor of the Gospels'
view of Christianity as the natural continuation of ancient Israel's
faith, the fulfillment of ancient Israel's prophecy, they rejected the
alternative position. It was that Christianity was something new,
plunged downward from Heaven without place, without origins,
without roots. Quite to the contrary, they maintained (and so has
Christianity ever since), in the line of the apostle, Paul, Christianity
is the olive branch, grafted onto the tree; Christianity begins with the
First Man; Christianity now fully and for the first time grasps the
whole and complete meaning of the scriptures of ancient Israel. These
and similar affirmations accounted for the rereading of those
scriptures and enriched the faith of the church with the heritage of
the Torah, the prophets, and the writings, that, by that time, Judaism
knew as 'the written Torah'. That 'written Torah' for Christianity
constituted 'the Old Testament'.
Now, along with Cardinal Ratzinger, I maintain that hermeneutics
forms a chapter in the unfolding of theology, bearing no autonomous
standing in the intellectual life of faith. And the hermeneutics that
flowed from the formation of the BibleNew Testament and Old
Testamenttook the position that Christianity was 'wholly other',
that is to say, a completely new and unprecedented intervention of
God into the life of humanitybut. And the 'but' stood for the
appropriation of the life of humanity from the creation of the world
onward, as the Evangelists and the author of the Letter to the
Hebrews would maintain before Constantine, Eusebius afterward.
Christianity did not begin with Jesus whom the Church called
Christ, but with humanity, in the First Man, reaching its fulfillment
in Jesus Christ, risen from the dead. That position left open the
question of the place, in God's plan, for the Israel 'after the flesh' that
all of the Evangelists and Paul identified as the bearers of the
grapecluster and the original children of Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob.
But that position left no doubts as to the autonomy of Christianity,
its uniqueness, its absoluteness. Christianity did not suffice with the
claim that it was part of ancient Israel, or that it had adopted the
NEUSNER Judaism and Christianity in the First Century 249
Torah of ancient Israel. The earliest Christians were not gentiles who
became Jews; they were Jews who thought that their Christianity
was (a) Judaism. More to the point, Christianity did not constitute a
reform movement within Israel, that is to say, a religious sect that
came along to right wrongs, correct errors, end old abuses, and
otherwise improve upon the givens of the ancient faith. Whatever the
standing of the old Israel, the new Israel was seen to be the true
Israel. And that meant it would not be represented as merely a
reform movement, playing the role, in the drama of the history of
Christianity, of the Protestant Reformation to Judaism's Roman
Catholic Church. Christianity was born on the first Easter, with the
resurrection of Jesus Christ, as the Church saw matters. And that
event was unique, absolute, unprecedented. Christianity did not
have to present itself as a reformation of Judaism, because it had
nothing to do with any other formation within Israel, God's first
love. Christianity was not a Judaism: it was Judaism, because it was
Christianity, from Easter onward; so, I think, the Church understood.
And, as part of that understanding, in later times, the Church gave
birth, within its tradition, to the Bible.
But in representing Christianity as a reform movement within an
antecedent and an on-going Judaism, this received self-understanding
of the Church was set aside. And, I am inclined to think, our century
has witnessed a fundamental theological error, which has, as a
matter of fact, also yielded an erroneous hermeneutics, in that order.
It is, moreover, to speak plainly, a Protestant error. The theological
error was to represent Christianity as a natural, this-wordly reform,
a continuation of Judaism in the terms of Judaism. The New
Testament would then be read in light of the Old, rather than the Old
in light of the New. And that forms the hermeneutics that has
predominated. We go to the Judaic writings of the age, or of the age
thereafter, to discover the context in which Christianity was born;
and Christianity then is understood to be represented by the Bible, or
the New Testament in particular: a problem of reading writing, not of
sifting through the heritage of tradition that the Church conveyed.
The theological error of seeing Christianity as continuous and this-
wordly, rather than as a divine intervention into history and as
supernatural, affected not only the Christian understanding of
Christianity. It also carried in its wake a theory of who is Israel,
Israel after the flesh, that contradicted the position of the Church
before our time.
The Church, in the tradition of the apostle Paul in Romans,

affirmed the salvation of Israel through the heritage of Abraham and
Sarah. But now, that 'Judaism' that had become Christianity was
given an autonomous standing, on the one side, and also assigned
negative traits, on the other. Christianity became necessary in this-
wordly terms to reform Judaism, and that reformed Judaism defined
the theological verities for Christianity. It was a Christian theology of
Judaism as an 'if-only... '-theology of Judaism: if only Judaism were
done rightly, it would have been (and would be) all right with God.
That theology yielded a hermeneutic in which the faults of'the Jews'
or of 'Judaism' were contrasted with the virtues of Jesus and of
Christianity. Judaism then required reformation; Judaism now is a
relic. Judaism then bore deep flaws, ethical flaws for example, so that
the principal value of Jesus was not as Christ risen from the dead but
as a teacher of ethics, as though the Sermon on the Mount contained
much that would have surprised informed hearers on one's duty to
the other or on the social responsibility of the society. And
Christians, for their part, found themselves in a subordinate position
in the salvific story of humanity, becoming not the true Israel by
faith in Christ Jesus (as Paul would want us to maintain) but merely
Israel by default, that is, by default of the old Israel.
The appeal of the Reformation Churches, their theology, and,
consequently, their hermeneutics, to a theory of Christianity as a
(mere) reform of Judaism, and of Judaism as hopelessly requiring a
reformation, framed on the state of the first century the world-
historical drama of the sixteenth century. In their picture of the
founding of Christianity, the Reformation theologians imputed their
own situation to that time of perfection that formed the authority
and the model. Sola Scriptura carried with it not only an apologetic
for the new, but also a reconstruction of the old; oniy by reference to
Scripture shall we know what Christ really had in mind, and
Scripture, read independently of the heritage of the tradition that the
Church sustained, meant the New Testament in light of the Old. And
that brings us back to our own century, its theology, and its
hermeneutics.
The theology that saw Christianity as a reformation of Judaism, so
identifying the Reformation as the new, and sole, Christianity,
yielded a hermeneutic that would read the life of Jesus as continuous
with the Judaism of his day, and the salvation of Christ as an event
within the Judaism of the first century. What that meant is that
scholars would turn to the Judaic writings of the time not merely for
information about how things were and were done, at that time, but
for insight into the meaning and messagethe religious message, the
theological truthof the New Testament. It was kind of a reverse-
Marcionism. Instead of rejecting the Old Testament in favor of the
New, the hermeneutics that has guided thought on the relationship
of Judaism and Christianity in the first century has appealed to 'the
Talmud', that is to say, to the literature of the ancient rabbis broadly
construed, as the keystone and guide in the reading of the New. The
Old Testament then would be set aside as merely interesting;
salvation would come of, not the Jews, but the rabbis.
And that observation about the current state of New Testament
hermeneutics draws us back to the point at which I began, namely, the
affirmation of the Church as 'Semitic', the declaration, in the very teeth
of Nazism, that 'spiritually, we are all Semites', the insistence upon the
Judaic heritage of the Church and of Christianity. Given the tragedy of
Christianity in the civilization of Christian Europe, perverted by
Nazism and corrupted by Communism, given the natural humanity
that for the first time accorded to suffering Israel after the flesh an
honorable place within the faith, we must admire the intent. Everyone
meant well, and today means well. But the result is an unChristian
reading of the New Testament, and, as a matter of fact, a misunderstanding,
from the viewpoint of the history of religion, of the New Testament and
the whole of the Bible as well.
I have already made clear what I mean by an unChristian reading of
the New Testament. It is the hermeneutic that appeals for the solution
of exegetical problems to Judaic sources, in the manner of Strack-
Billerbeck, for instance. That hermeneutic, I have argued, flows from
the theology of Christianity as a continuation of, and mere improvement
upon, Judaism. But if, as I have pointed out, Christianity understands
itself as autonomous, unique, absolute, then Christianity cannot be a
mere reformation. And not only so, but if, as we Jews maintain, the
Torah of our Rabbi Moses, encompassing both the written Torah and
the Oral Torah, bears no relationship whatsoever to any other revelation
that God may have had in mindif, as we hold, what God wants of all
humanity rests in the commandments to the children of Noah, then we
cannot find a compliment in this same notion. We are no relic; ours is
not the unreformed sediment, nor are we the stubborn and incorrigible
heirs of a mere denial. We bear the living faith, the Torah, of the one
true God, creator of heaven and earth, who gave us the Torah and who
implanted within us eternal life: so is the faith of Israel, God's first love.
But in the context of this tragic century, we too have found reasons to
affirm the picture of the first century as an age of reform, of Christianity
as profoundly interrelated with Judaism in the way in which Protestant
theology maintained.
The theological error does not dwarf the one that has characterized
the historical account of the religions, Judaism and Christianity. The
error as to history of religion is distinct. It is in two parts, one
theological, the other religious. The theological error concerns history,
not belief but (mere) description. As Cardinal Raztzinger warned as to
theology and hermeneutics, it too represents a hermeneutical error,
concerning the reading now of history, flowing from a theological
position. The theological error, in this case, comes not from Christianity
but from Judaism. It is the position that there was, is, and can forever
be, only one Judaism, the Orthodox one. Speaking from the perspective
of Sinai, one surely affirms that view. But translating theological truth
into historical fact reduces theology to a matter of description, and that
is an error. And it consequently imposes upon history the burden of
faith. And that is as grave an offense against religion as asking science to
conform in its results to Scripture in its crudest interpretation. In the
case of the first century, we have been asked to see one Judaism, the
Orthodox one, and to see that Judaism in the first century as an exact
representation of what would emerge, in the Talmud of Babylonia seven
hundred years later. It would follow that if we want to know what
Judaism, the one, Orthodox, Judaism was in the first century, we have
simply to consult the later writings in which that Judaism came to full
and complete expression. That Orthodox theology of Judaism stands
behind the possibility, represented by Strack-Billerbeck, of interpreting
the New Testament as an essentially Judaic book, the life of Jesus as the
story of a great rabbi, the formation of the Church as an aberration, and
the work of the apostle Paul as a betrayal, an invention of
Christianity Rabbi Jesus never contemplatedand on and on.
The theological error on the Christian side is to read Christianity as a
continuation and reform of Judaism. That makes possible the hermeneutic,
supplied by Orthodox Judaism, by Jewish apologists, by Christian
friends of the Jewish People, by pretty much everybody of good will in
our own awful century, that reads Christianity as contingent upon
Judaism, secondary to Judaism, not absolute, not unique, not autonomous.
The theological error on the Judaic side is to seek in the social facts of
the history of the here and now the replication of God's Torah's picture
of holy Israel. It was (and is) a positivist conception that the facts of
history settle the affirmation of faith, that the sanctity of holy Israel
living by the Torah is to be affirmed because in the first century (first
only for the Christians, after all), there was that one true, orthodox,
Orthodox Judaism that pretty much everybody affirmed (even Jesus),
and that, as a matter of mere fact, Christianity distortedso runs the
apologetic.
I spoke of an error as to history of religion, and, in correcting that
error, I propose to set forth a constructive program, one that accords
with the theological self-understanding of absolute Christianity and
unique Judaism alike. Out of the history of religion I want to form the
possibility of a new classicism in theology of Judaism and theology of
Christianityno mean ambition. This program aims at allowing
Christianity to be absolute, Judaism to be unique, and the two to define,
for the twenty-first century, a shared range of genuinely religious
discourse, one to which the facts of history are not critical, but the
confrontation with God, central. I wish, in a word, for Judaism to be
Torah, the one whole Torah God revealed to Moses at Sinai, not subject
to the uncertainties of time or the varieties of circumstance; and I want,
for Christianity, that autonomous standing, that confidence, that
permits the end to the question, addressed here, there, and everywhere:
why not? (that is, why not become like us?), and permits the asking of the
question: how? (that is, how shall we all find, in Christian language,
each his or her cross; in Judaic language, each in the face of the other
the image and likeness of God?).
No small task, no mean ambition. Where to begin? Just as theology
comes prior to hermeneutics, so religion comes prior to hermeneutics.
We have therefore, in the realm of history of religion, to undertake first
to define what we mean by religion, then to carry that definition onward
to the reading of the holy books that concern us. A shift in language is
required, however, from 'religion' to 'religious system'. When I speak of
'religious system', I refer to the cogent statement, framed in supernatural
terms, of a social entity concerning its way of life, its world view, and its
definition of itself. When a group of people, whether numerous, whether
few, share a conception of themselves as a social entity, when they
explain by appeal to transcendent considerations the very everyday
pattern that defines what they do together, then the conception they set
forth to account for themselves comprises their religious system. In
simple terms, a religious system is made up of a cogent theory of ethics,
that is, way of life; ethos, that is, world-view; and ethnos, that is, social
entity.
Religions seen in this way form social worlds and do so through the
power of their rational thought, that is, their capacity to explain data in
a (to an authorship) selfevidently valid way. As to hermeneutics flowing
from this theory of religion, the framers of religious documents answer
urgent questions, framed in society and politics, to be sure, in a manner
deemed selfevidently valid by those addressed by the authorship at
hand. Religious writings present striking examples of how people in
writing explain to themselves who they are as a social entity. Religion as
a powerful force in human society and culture is realized in society, not
only or mainly theology; religion works through the social entity that
embodies that religion. Religions form social entities'churches' or
'peoples' or 'holy nations' or monasteries or communitieswhich, in the
concrete, constitute the 'us', as against 'the nations' or merely 'them'.
And religions carefully explain, in deeds and in words, who that 'us' is
and they do it every day. To see religion in this way is to take religion
seriously as a way of realizing, in classic documents, a large conception
of the world.
That brings us to the systemic hermeneutics in the reading of the
formative documents of Judaism or of Christianity. Writings such as
those we read have been selected by the framers of a religious system,
and, read all together, those writings are deemed to make a cogent and
important statement of that system, hence the category, 'canonical
writings'. I call that encompassing, canonical picture a 'system', when it
is composed of three necessary components: an account of a world-view,
a prescription of a corresponding way of life, and a definition of the
social entity that finds definition in the one and description in the other.
When those three fundamental components fit together, they sustain
one another in explaining the whole of a social order, hence constituting
the theoretical account of a system. Systems defined in this way work
out a cogent picture, for those who make them up, of how things are
correctly to be sorted out and fitted together, and -why things are done in
one way, rather than in some other, and of who they are that do and
understand matters in this particular way. When, as is commonly the
case, people invoke God as the foundation for their world-view,
maintaining that their way of life corresponds to what God wants of
them, projecting their social entity in a particular relationship to God,
then we have a religious system. When, finally, a religious system
appeals as an important part of its authoritative literature or canon to
the Hebrew Scriptures of ancient Israel or 'Old Testament', we have a
Judaism.
We describe systems from their end products, the writings. But we

have then to work our way back from canon to system, not to
imagine either that the canon is the system, or that the canon creates
the system. The canonical writings speak, in particular, to those who
can hear, that is, to the members of the community, who, on account
of that perspicacity of hearing, constitute the social entity or systemic
community. The community then comprises that social group the
system of which is recapitulated by the selected canon. The group's
exegesis of the canon in terms of the everyday imparts to the system
the power to sustain the community in a reciprocal and self-
nourishing process. The community through its exegesis then
imposes continuity and unity on whatever is in its canon. The power
of a system to persist expresses or attests to a symbolic transaction.
That symbolic transaction, specifically, takes place in its exegesis of
the systemic canon, which, in literary terms, constitutes the social
entity's statement of itself. So the texts recapitulate the system. (In
the language of Roman Catholic Christianity, the Bible is the Bible
of the Church, which is to say, Scripture and tradition form the
authority and criterion of Christian truth, not Scripture alone.) The
system does not recapitulate the texts. The system comes before the
texts and defines the canon. The exegesis of the canon then forms
that on-going social action that sustains the whole. A system does not
recapitulate its texts, it selects and orders them. A religious system
imputes to them as a whole cogency, one to the next, that their
original authorships have not expressed in and through the parts,
and through them a religious system expresses its deepest logic, and
it also frames that just fit that joins system to circumstance.
The whole works its way out through exegesis, and the history of
any religious systemthat is to say, the history of religion writ
smallis the exegesis of its exegesis. And the first rule of the exegesis
of systems is the simplest, and the one with which I conclude: the
system does not recapitulate the canon. The canon recapitulates the
system. The system forms a statement of a social entity, specifying its
world view and way of life in such a way that, to the participants in
the system, the whole makes sound sense, beyond argument. So in
the beginning are not words of inner and intrinsic affinity, but (as
Philo would want us to say) the Word: the transitive logic, the
system, all together, all at once, complete, whole, finishedthe word
awaiting only that labor of exposition and articulation that the
faithful, for centuries to come, will lavish at the altar of the faith. A
religious system therefore presents a fact not of history but of

immediacy, of the social present.
By the definitions just now given, can we identify one Judaism in
the first centuries BCE and CE? Only if we can treat as a single cogent
statement everything all Jews wrote. That requires us to harmonize
the Essene writings of the Dead Sea, Philo, the Mishnah, the variety
of scriptures collected in our century as the Apocrypha and
Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament, not to mention the Gospels!
That is to say, viewed as statements of systems, the writings attest to
diverse religious systems, and, in the setting of which we speak, to
diverse Judaisms. There was no one orthodoxy, no Orthodox
Judaism. There were various Judaisms. In that context, the formative
writings of what we call Christianity form statements of systems, and
whether we call the Judaisms or Christianities really does not affect
how we shall read themin that context. For reading a text in its
(systemic) context and as a statement of a larger matrix of meaning
requires us to accord to each system, to each Judaism, that
autonomy, that uniqueness, that absoluteness, that every Judaism
has claimed for itself, and, it goes without saying, that all Christianities
likewise have insisted upon.
How does the approach to the study of religion define an answer to
the question with which we began, the relationship of Judaism to
Christianity in the first century? And what hermeneutic flows from
the theory of religion I have outlined? Each document is to be read in
its own terms, as a statementif it constituted such a statementof
a Judaism, or, at least, to and so in behalf of, a Judaism. Each
theological and legal fact is to be interpreted, to begin with, in
relationship to the other theological and legal facts among which it
found its original location. A specific hermeneutics emerges.
Let me speak of both Judaism and Christianity. The inherited
descriptions of Judaism of the dual Torah (or merely 'Judaism') have
treated as uniform the whole corpus of writing called 'the Oral
Torah'. They have further treated Christianity as unitary and
harmonious; so it may have become, but, in the first century, I think
both the founder of this party and his protagonist, Peter and Paul,
will have found that description surprising. When we define religion
in the way that I have, we have a different task from the one of
harmonization. It is the task of describing the Judaisms and the
Christianities of the age, allowing each its proper context and
according to each its correct autonomy. What of the relationship
between (a) Judaism and (b) Christianity? There we have to appeal

to Judaic writings where they bear facts that illuminate Christian
ones, but we must not then reduce Christian writings to the status of
dependence and accord to them a merely recapitulative intent:
reform, for instance.
Some facts are systemically active: Jesus Christ rose from the
dead. Some are systemically inert: they wrote writs of divorce in the
first century; some people observed cultic purity even at home; they
kept the Sabbath. We cannot assign to systemically inert facts an
active position that they did not, and as a matter of fact, could not,
have had, and we cannot therefore frame our hermeneutics around
the intersections of facts deriving from one piece of writing and
occurring in another, later piece of writing. In New Testament
hermeneutics, salvation is not of the Jews, because the New
Testament is a component of the Bible, and the scriptures of ancient
Israel form the other component of that same Bible: all read as the
Church has been taught to read them whole and complete, the story
of salvation.
Among the religious systems of the people, Israel, in the Land of
Israel, one of which we call 'Christianity', another of which we call
'Judaism'and both names are utterly post factumwe find distinct
social groups, each with its ethos and its ethics, each forming its
distinctive ethnos, all of them constituting different people talking
about different things to different people. As bearers, all of us, of the
heritage of Israel and the fundament of truth of Sinai, we have
therefore to affirm that God works in mysterious ways. We Jews can
live with that mystery. That is why the seven commandments to
which all humanity everywhere is subject make so much difference
to Judaism: it is the theory of the other. God asks that much, and, if
you do it, you are what God wants you to be, no less, but also no
more. Why is so much asked of us and so much less of others? That is
the mystery of eternal Israel. We not only live with that mystery. We
are that mystery. Can Christianity live that mystery? I think that,
with the Christian theology of Judaism that has taken shape in
Vatican II and since that time, in the American Bishops' framing of
matters in particular, Christianity too says its amen to God's
work.
In that context, we now look back at the first century from a new
perspective. We understand that Christianity is Christianity not
because it improved upon Judaism, or because it was a Judaism, or
because Christians are 'spiritual Semites', or (to complete the

catalogue) because Christianity drew upon Judaism or concurred in
things that Judaism taught. Christianity is Christianity because it
forms an autonomous, absolute, unique, and free-standing religious
system within the framework of the scriptures and religious world of
Israel. It suffices therefore to say that the earliest Christians were
Jews and saw their religion as normative and authoritative: Judaism.
That affirmation of self then solves the problem that troubles
Christians, when they (wrongly) see themselves as newcomers to the
world of religion: why Judaism as a whole remains a religion that
believes other things, or, as Christians commonly ask, 'Why did (and
do) the Jews not "accept"?' or 'Why, after the resurrection of Jesus
Christ, is there Judaism at all?' Often asked negatively, the
question turns on why the Jews do not believe, rather than on 'what'
they do believe.
Christians want to know why not. To me as a rabbi, the answer to
that question is simple: Judaism and Christianity are completely
different religions, not different versions of one religion (that of the
'Old Testament', or, 'the written Torah', as Jews call it). The two
faiths stand for different people talking about different things to
different people. And that explains why not: Judaism answers its
questions in its way, and it does not find itself required to answer
Christianity's (or Islam's, or Buddhism's) questions in the way that
these are phrased. Judaism sees Christianity as aggressive in its
perpetual nagging of others to accept salvation through Jesus Christ.
The asking of the questionwhy not? rather than why so?reflects
the long-term difficulty that the one group has had in making sense
of the other. And my explanation of the difference between
Christianity and Judaism rests on that simple fact. Each religious
tradition talks to its adherents about its points of urgent concern;
that is Judaism and Christianity, respectively, stand for different
people talking about different things to different people.
If we go back to the beginnings of Christianity in the early
centuries of the Christian Era, we see this picture very clearly. Each
addressed its own agenda, spoke to its own issues, and employed
language distinctive to its adherents. Neither exhibited understanding
of what was important to the other. Recognizing that fundamental
inner-directedness may enable us to interpret the issues and the
language used in framing them. For if each party perceived the other
through a thick veil of incomprehension, the heat and abuse that
characterized much of their writing about one another testify to a

truth different from that which conventional intepretations have
yielded. If the enemy is within, if I see only the mote in the other's
eye, it matters little whether there is a beam in my own. But if we see
the first century from the perspective of the twenty-first, that is not
how matters are at all. Now we can affirm what has taken twenty
centuries for us to understand, which is that we all believe in one
God, who is the same God, and him alone we serve in reverence. And
that shared life in God and for God defines the relationship of
Judaisms and Christianities, then as it does now. But now, through
the suffering of us Jews, eternal Israel, and through the response to
our suffering of you Christians, Israel with us, we can see that truth,
as before we did not and could not. So our awful century has left
some good for the age that is coming.
THE HASMONEANS AND THE USES OF HELLENISM1
Tessa Rajak
University of Reading
I. Concepts
The meeting between Judaism and Hellenism is one of the most
discussed relationships in cultural history. From the later nineteenth
century on this has been a polarity which has assumed a special
importance for scholars, both Jewish and non-Jewish, and for
obvious reasons.2 It has served both as a heuristic tool and as a target
of enquiry in itself. On the one hand, certain Jewish interpreters
applauded Jewish responsiveness to the forces of supposed Hellenic
enlightenment, order and rationality, and perhaps even chose to
emphasize areas of integration, if not assimilation, between the two
cultures. On the other hand, for any historian whose education was
influenced by the European classical tradition, there was an
inclination to see the spread of Greek culture as the central historical
phenomenon of the era of Alexander and his successors and to give it,
in the recent words of Kuhrt and Sherwin-White,3 'overriding
significance'. A Christian perspective could lend its own concern
with the kinds of Judaism which were penetrated with Hellenism:
Christianity, after, all was in some sense a cross between the two
cultures. Furthermore, the dichotomy was transferred at an early
stage to analyses of Christianity itself, with a contrast between a
'primitive' Palestinian Christianity and a 'Hellenistic' variety serving,
at times, as a favourite tool of research for critics of the stature of
Bultmann.
For all that, the Judaism-Hellenism distinction is not a modern
invention. It is important to appreciate that there were moments
when it loomed large in the consciousness of the actors in the ancient
period itself. The very concept of Hellenism, and the related one of
Hellenization are, in fact, first and best attested in the eastern

Mediterranean precisely in the context of Jewish thought; and it may
even be the case that the Jews of the time were responsible for
forming and transmitting the perception that the Greek culture with
which they met was a force capable of encroaching upon their own
values, that there was a major influence there, to be either embraced
or rejected. Historically, this seems probable; and it is also what the
surviving verbal evidence suggests.
For the very word hellenismos first appears in the second book of
Maccabees (4.13). There, in the expression akme ton hellenismou, 'a
climax of Hellenism', it refers to the 'package' of Greek customs
allegedly introduced into Jerusalem by the high priest Jason after he
had bribed his way into the high priesthood. A Greek political entity,
if not an actual polis, had been set up within Jerusalem. The symbols
of the Greek life style that belong with it are, in this highly rhetorical
chapter, made to centre upon athletic pursuits: the gymnasium with
its associated institution for young men, the sports stadium, the
wrestling school and the athlete's hat are all singled out for mention.
Nudity as such is not alluded to here. We may wonder, in fact,
whether any more than one single despised institution need lie
behind the entire tirade, rather than a truly comprehensive Hellenization
of Jerusalem life on the part of Jason.4 We may also point out that
the Maccabaean cultural crisis developed out of political quarrels
concerning, in effect, conflicting relationships with the ruling power.
These are points worth pondering. But the fact remains, that
whatever exactly it was that was brought to Jerusalem, this was
immediately seen as standing for a whole culture, and one whose
pursuit contravened Jewish Law (2 Mace. 4.12). The expressions ton
Hellenikon charaktera (which might be rendered 'the Greek way of
life') and tas Hellenikas doxas ('the Greek scale of values', perhaps)
also figure. 2 Maccabees is a summary, composed before 124 BCE, of
a history written close in time to the Maccabaean crisis itself.5 Its
author will be reflecting an ideology not entirely remote from those
who participated or from those who observed; and there must
therefore have been some who interpreted the events not just as the
defence of the Temple, but as a struggle against Jewish Hellenism
and against Antiochus IV or his successors as agents of Hellenization.
The original history had been written in Greek, by a man known as
Jason of Gyrene. Perhaps Jason's origins in the Greek-speaking
Diaspora had sharpened his awareness of the boundaries between
Jews and Greeks.
RAJAK The Hasmoneans and Hellenism 263
At the same time, the rest of Jason's history as reflected in the 2

Maccabees summary, and certainly the first book of Maccabees, with
its consciously Biblical idiom, operate with quite other categories.
The wars of Judas are against pollution or against the Gentiles. The
pro-Seleucid Jews, to be identified with the former Hellenizers, are
the 'lawless', anomoi (1 Mace. 9.23, etc.); when they occupy the Akra
fortress, they are 'the men in the citadel'. Elsewhere, we do not hear
of Greeks or Greek sympathizers. We may guess that the issue of
Hellenism as such ceased for the time being to be in the forefront,
overshadowed by the military struggle between the Maccabees and
their opponents. In later Jewish writings, it surfaces again, as we
shall see.
The key text in 2 Maccabees indicates two separate kinds of
development. The one which is the most visible on the surface is that
upper-class Jews in the period leading up to 165, including (or
perhaps especially) members of the high-priestly circles, were
attracted by practices typical of Greek cities: they were becoming
Hellenized. The other, which is probably at the heart of the matter, is
that the deliberate adoption of certain such practices were a highly
contentious public issue, linked with politics as much as with
religion, and able itself to divide society. The latter, conscious
process, in which certain features of Greek culture possessed a kind
of symbolic significance and carried political implications, will here
be called Hellenism. This is a narrowing of the familiar usage,
originated by J.G. Droysen, where 'Hellenism' refers generally to
Greek civilization after Alexander the Great, as a distinctive culture,
in all its aspects.6
II. Hellenization
The coming together of ancient statement with modern prejudice has
highlighted Hellenization, so that it has loomed large in interpretations
of post-Biblical Judaism. One major debate has focussed, on the one
hand, on the assertion that Palestinian Judaism was heavily
penetrated with Greek culture from an early date (as in Martin
Hengel's great work), on the other, on the denial that the totality of
apparent influence has any deep significance, given the continuing
separation and distinctiveness of Judaism. In this debate, and equally
in analyses of other periods, situations or authors, the Jewish-Greek
polarity has been taken for granted.7
It is hard to see how such debates can ever be concluded. No one

would wish to deny the steady Hellenization of the material culture
of Palestine, both Jewish and non-Jewish, during the whole of the
period Most would agree that even a sealed-off environment like Qumran
was not immune. Such Hellenization is visible in architecture and art, in
everyday uses of the Greek language and in some aspects of political
behaviour. When it comes to the higher realms of thought and belief,
we have to face far greater uncertainty about the meaning of
apparently parallel developments. But I think that putting the
question itelf in perspective may be of some assistance. There are
immense logical and empirical difficulties in seeking to measure
Jewish Hellenization. They can be summed up, perhaps, by saying
that there is a task which is logically prior, one whose complications
historians are only just beginning to grasp. We need to get some
picture of the Greek culture with which we are dealing, that is to say,
of the kind of Hellenization that was embraced, or in other cases
avoided, by the peoples who lived around and among the Jews. We
ought not to rely on rather general and long-unexamined notions
about the norms and forms of Greek city life, and to doctrines about
the way in which that specially Greek institution, the polis, was
carried to the far corners of the backward east. Only this enquiry can give
any real historical sense to the specific problem of the Hellenization
of the Jews, and to the possibility of Jewish impermeability.
The need for a new logic becomes clear when we remember that
what we are thinking about, in thinking about Hellenization, was,
after all, a two-way process, not just a matter of native cultures being
imbued with the Greek one. Admittedly, a leading dynamic in the
Mediterranean world (and even beyond), if we are to concentrate on
major trends, was the politico-cultural imperialism, first of Alexander
and of the Ptolemies and Seleucids, and then of the Romansfor the
Romans were also major (probably indeed the major) carriers of
Greek culture in the east. It is true, too, that the net effect of several
centuries of change would eventually be to create, during the high
Roman empire, an amazingly uniform elite culture based upon
Greek rhetorical and philosophical education and on a revival of the
Attic past. It would be foolish to ignore this force for movement
towards ever greater Hellenization. It would also be foolish to deny
that the high Greek culture had patent charms and attractions
(without of course ignoring those of the late oriental civilizations,
Judaism included). Nonetheless, in spite of all its pretensions, Greek
culture too was constantly changing under the impact of those

peoples towards whom it came. Where small groups of true Greek
colonists lived in a small unit in an alien world, as they often did in
the years after Alexander, there was possibly some chance of their
preserving their way of life intact for several generations. But when
the ephebes in a gymnasium or the citizens of a polis were native
born, it would be absurd to expect them simply to conform to
standard patterns, without modifying those patterns and causing
something new to be transmitted.
Therefore, Hellenization can mean several different things: in its
full sense, it would be the suppression of a native culture and
language and its replacement with a fully or mainly Greek style-
something which, I suspect, is rather rare, except over a long period;
or it might be the creation of a truly mixed, hybrid form, the much-
discussed Verschmelzung', or, again, we might see the addition of
Greek elements to a persisting culture whose leading features
remained visible and relatively constant. The distinctions are most
easily grasped in the sphere of architecture. Thus, the well-known
tombs in Jerusalem's Kedron Valley, known as the tomb of Zechariah
and the tomb of Absalom but in fact belonging probably to priestly
families of the first century BCE, are excellent examples of a hybrid
style, with their Greek columned porticoes, their prominent pointed
roofs, their separate outbuildings or nefashim* Their mixed style is
related to that of some of the Petra rock-cut tombs, which in itself is a
suggestive fact about the evolution of a regional idiom embracing
Nabateans as well as Jews. But, of course, the adoption of a hybrid
architecture need not be associated with a comparable fusion in other
departments of life. To judge whether a society at a particular time
should overall be deemed Hellenized in the first, the second or the
third sense will rarely be a simple matter. There is room for
argument as to whether the Jews were closest to the second or the third
class, but most scholars would probably hold that their Hellenization
was a relatively superficial matter and that a hybrid culture was not
created, thus putting them in category three.
III. Hasmonean Hellenism

My purpose has been to expose the complex conceptual problems
that underlie any discussion of processes of Hellenization, whether
Jewish or otherwise. In various departments of life, a steady influx of
Greek modes and manners will have occurred without much notice
being given to the matter: it need not have been apparent to the
agents that what they were doing or making was, or had once been,
characteristically Greek. By the time customs are taken over, they
may well be emptied of their associations, or even have acquired new
ones. Archaeological material alone can tell us nothing about such
overtones. For these reasons, it may well be more advantageous for
historians, whose concern will, after all, be with the mechanism of
cultural interaction, not just with labelling, to fix their attention less
on Hellenization, than on Hellenism, in the sense which I gave to
that term; that is to say, on the conscious adoption of Greek ways, or
else its reverse, where there is at least some indication that the agents
see a real significance (one that might be, say, political or religious) in
the Greekness of those customs. The questions that the historian will
then want to ask will be about the factors which promoted Hellenism
or anti-Hellenism in particular circumstances, involving explicit
pressure from above, commercial requirements, international contact,
intellectual links, or other matters; and about the consequences of
different choices.
The study of ancient history rarely provides us with convenient
answers even to such more narrowly delimited questions. The
sources tend to be lacking just where we most want them. Nonethe-
less, for the Hasmonean period, we do have the unusual advantage of
Josephus's detailed narrative, following on from the books of the
Maccabees, or rather, to be precise, overlapping with them. We are
doubly fortunate where we can combine this with archaeological,
numismatic or other types of evidence, as we can do to some extent
for the later Hasmonean period, covering the years after the
revolutionary wars of Judas, and extending from 161 to 63 BCE. They
are important years for the expression of Hellenism in Palestine and
also of antagonism to Hellenism. It will be helpful first to give some
impression of the period.
The central fact is the rise and fall in Palestine of an independent
state, comparable in Jewish history only with the kingdom of David.
This national experience marked the people, through the classical
period and far beyond. From the military leadership of Judas
Maccabaeus had emerged, in due course, permanent authority, a
dynastic succession and, eventually, a monarchy. Defensive wars led
to territorial expansion: to the west to occupy most of the cities of the
coast, to the east to the Jordan and even beyond, south into the whole
of Idumaea and north into Samaria and the Galilee. However,

neither internal nor external stability of an enduring kind were
achieved. Geographical factors alone would tend, of course, to
make Palestine vulnerable. And elements from within declared the
domination of the Hasmoneans to be unacceptable. The ruling
family fell prey to a war of succession at the time of Pompey the
Great's annexation of Syria, and the door was open to Roman
intervention. One of the rival Hasmoneans then remained in control
of a reduced Jewish entity, but one that was not as small as it had
been before this period; and he was made subject to Roman taxation
and Roman administrative arrangements: this was what remained,
together with a divided population and substantial discontents. It
would be left to the Idumaean Herod, in an inventive exploitation of
the roles of eastern client king and Hellenic patron under Augustus,
to reconstruct what the Hasmoneans had built, in the spirit of his
own day and age.
These developments did not occur in isolation. Internal forces
combined with external circumstances to make the growth of the
Jewish state possible. The decline in Seleucid power, and then the
collapse of that extended kingdom into continuous dynastic wars,
presented the Hasmoneans first with overlords who were increasingly
distracted and afterwards with opportunities for profitable meddling.
Alliances with Rome, which at this stage may have helped, and
certainly did not hinder the Hasmonean expansion were another part
of the external contribution. Judaea was by no means the only small
state in the east to achieve freedom under her own rulers in the late
Hellenistic period, though her growth, with all its consequences, was
particularly spectacular. What needs to be underlined was that the
new state was one whose destiny depended upon the complex and
sometimes chaotic interplay of eastern power-politics, and her rulers
had to be able to deal confidently with a variety of other rulers or
aspirants. In other words, she had become a Hellenistic kingdom. I
need hardly say that no assumptions may be made as to the degree
and type of Hellenization in such a kingdom.9
But we can at any rate see that some Greek trappings were
appropriate. And the Hasmoneans did not hang back, when it came
to adopting these. They appear to have stepped readily into their
parts. Indeed, one may wonder whether Judas himself had been as
stoutly opposed to all things Hellenized as he is painted. Since he had
nailed his flag to the mast of anti-Hellenism and allied himself with
the rigorous hasidim, the other elements in the picture could hardly
be allowed to emerge in the tradition. It is noteworthy that, of our

two accounts of the Maccabaean crisis (not counting Josephus's
version of 1 Maccabees), the one which makes the most of Judas, to
the exclusion not only of his brothers but even of his father
Mattathias, is 2 Maccabees. Unlike 1 Maccabees, the epitome of
Jason of Gyrene which makes up the bulk of the second book (to that
epitome are added two letters), was originally written in Greek, and
exploits various dramatic devices characteristic of the so-called
'pathetic' Greek historiography fashionable at the time. The more
'Hellenized' writer, therefore, is the one whose hero is Judas.10 To
this perhaps rather indirect argument might be added the general
observation that the Maccabaean revolt, quite contrary to its image
in later popular mythology, was never a peasant uprising, although it
may well, as Josephus claims, have attracted many ordinary people at
an early stage. Mattathias was addressed by the Syrian representative
Apelles as an important man in his region, and a number of pointers
in our narratives suggest that the family was propertied from the
beginning.
Almost twenty years after the death of Judas, in 143/2 BCE, his
brother Jonathan was killed by the treachery of Tryphon, a claimant
to the Seleucid throne. The death seems in a sad way an appropriate
one, for Jonathan's leadership of his people had moved away from
the military patterns which he had inherited from Judas, to the paths
of diplomacy. Jonathan had been accepted the high priesthood from
one of the Seleucid rivals, Alexander Balas. Later, in a desperate
attempt to outbid another claimant, Demetrius I, that same
Alexander had made Jonathan meridarch (governor) and one of his
First Friends; the latter title had given Jonathan official status at
court. Jonathan's body was released and taken by his younger
brother Simon for burial in the ancestral town of Modi'in. There
Simon built a new family tomb, which served also for his father and
mother. That 1 Maccabees stops to describe this monument in detail
shows what significance was attributed to it. The grandeur, the
power symbolism and the hybrid Greco-Oriental style of the tomb,
so reminiscent of those in the Kedron valley mentioned earlier,
shows something of the distance the family had already travelled:
'Simon had the body of his brother Jonathan brought to Modi'in, and
buried in the town of their fathers [note that 1 Maccabees describes
Modi'in as a polis!]; and all Israel made a great lamentation and
mourned him for many days. Simon built a high monument over the
tomb of his father and his brothers, visible at a great distance, faced
back and front with polished stone. He erected seven pyramids, those
for his father and mother and four brothers arranged in pairs. For the
pyramids he contrived an elaborate setting: he surrounded them with
great columns surmounted with trophies of armour for a perpetual
memorial, and between the trophies carved ships, plainly visible to
all at sea [Modi'in is at least ten miles from the sea]. This tomb
which he made at Modi'in stands to this day' (1 Mace. 13.25-30).
Simon began as he meant to go on. There are several features of
public life under his regime which must be described as overtly
Greek. And they are acts of political importance surrounded by
ceremony and display, such that they can only be seen as consciously
chosen and contrived. To bring out these features of Hasmonean
conduct is not to say anything new. They were emphasized, and
occasionally overemphasized, by Bickerman, and well understood
even by Tcherikover.11 Schiirer, I suppose, approved them, since he
could not find it in himself to accept the Maccabees' earlier exploits:
his words still ring out from the pages of the revised version of his
first volume: 'the earliest incidents reported represent Jonathan's
companions more as bandits than as members of a religious party'.12
It is not wholly clear whether the later course of Jonathan's career
make him and his followers look more, or less, like members of a
religious party. What is necessary is to pursue their implications,
especially because the picture as usually painted contains a large and
puzzling contradiction.
Our sources give us a fair impression of some aspects of the later
Maccabees' Hellenism. In the year 142 BCE, and soon, no doubt, after
Jonathan's burial (the great tomb may not yet even have been
completed), 'the yoke of the Gentiles was taken away from Israel', as
1 Maccabees has it (13.41-42). The autonomy here referred to, and
arising in fact in the form of a grant of freedom from tribute and
taxes by Demetrius II, was expressed in classic form, by the
establishment of a new chronological era: 'and the people began
writing on their records and their contracts, "in the first year of Simon,
great high priest, commander and leader of the Jews'". (So far
as we know, this era did not endure as a lasting base of reckoning.)
Simon was granted the right to issue a coinage, but he did not do so.
Of course, the powers granted to Simon were defined in the manner
established at Jerusalem during the Persian period, with the high
priesthood as the principal political position. Traditionally Jewish,
too, was the ceremonial of 141, when the liberation of the Akra from
his Jewish opponents, the so-called Hellenists, was celebrated with
the waving of palm branches, and with psalms and instruments. Yet
in 140, when the assembled people declared Simon high priest,
commander and ethnarch for ever, 'until a trustworthy prophet shall
arise', the decree was inscribed in bronze and set up in the Temple
precinct and in its treasury, just as was supposed to happen in a
Greek city (1 Mace. 14.41ff).
The first Hasmonean to mint his own coins was in all probability
John Hyrcanus, the son and successor of Simon. That both John and
all his successors confined their output to bronze perutot, and never
produced silver, the regular sign of autonomy, is probably to be
explained in purely economic terms. The familiar and very handsome
Tyrian silver shekels continued to be the common large currency in
the whole area, and were even acceptable for payments of the Temple
tax; Judaea did not, of course, have its own source of silver. What is
more telling in terms of ideology is that Hasmonean coins remained,
to the end, aniconic, replacing the customary ruler's portrait with a
second symbol. This might suggest that constraints were placed on
the ruler by the susceptibilities of the pious, or of certain religious
leaders. We have a clear indication that the symbolism of the coins
was thought to matterand can therefore be taken by the modern
interpreter as a genuine reflection of the dynasty's self-imagein
that it displays a manifest respect for the people's will. Hyrcanus's
coins carry two types of formula, reading either 'Yehohanan the high
priest and the council (or community, hever) of the Jews', or else,
'Yehofranan, the high priest, head of the Jiever of the Jews'. Alexander
Jannaeus, more than a generation later, was unambiguously titled
king; none the less, at a certain point in his reign, and perhaps in
response to a major crisis with the Pharisees about which we read in
Josephus, some of his coins were overstruck on the obverse with
'Jonathan, the high priest and the hever of the Jews'.13
Coinage is thus an area in which we can observe how a political
exploitation of Hellenism can well be juxtaposed with a resonant
assertion of native values. It is not, at all times, a matter of
incompatibilities or even necessarily of oppositions. From Hyrcanus's
coins, which in Jewish terms would be described as extremely
conservative, we conclude that Judaea did not care to see itself as just
another Hellenistic state and that religious tradition still had an
important place. The script is a deliberately archaic palaeo-Hebrew
evoking the days of the first Temple; it was used also in some
Qumran texts. Yet a generation later, Alexander Jannaeus was
issuing coins inscribed in Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek with his
Greek name, 'Alexandras' replacing 'Jonathan' in the Greek versions.
As far as the symbols went, to the small repertoire depicted on
Hyrcanus's coins, which was neutral or vaguely Jewisha wreath
around the name, ears of corn and double cornucopias with a
pomegranate between themJannaeus added a more 'international'
set of symbolsa star and diadem (overtly announcing his kingship),
the anchor known in the region from the coins of Antiochus VII and
Antiochus VIII (though, also, of course evoking his family's tomb),
and lilies also associated with coins of the same Seleucids. The
development is a striking one.14
IV. The Hasmonean Conquests and the Greek Cities of Palestine

Yet, if the style of the rulers was increasingly involved with
Hellenism (in the active sense which I have given to that term), their
military policies, as commonly understood, reflect a very different
image. The motive force is held to be an implacable enmity with the
Greek cities in and around Palestine; not merely with their
inhabitants, as neighbours with whom one might not agree, but with
the settlements themselves and what they stood for, as representatives
of a pagan, and especially (given the Hellenocentric tendencies
present even in the Jewish scholarship) of a Greek culture which was,
on this account, anathema to Judaism.15 The picture derives from the
way in which successive Hasmoneans treated alien peoples in the
course of their conquering careers. From Judas Maccabaeus onwards,
we find several patterns which it is possible to connect: imposed
segregation of Jews from others, possibly accompanied by an act of
purification; brutal reprisals against enemies, in the course of which their
cities were destroyed and their citizens expelled, if not eliminated; or
forced Judaization, such as was carried out in specific cases by
Aristobulus in his short reign and by John Hyrcanus. Alexander
Jannaeus, the most expansionist of all the rulers, emerges as the
climax of these manifestations. No reconciliation has been sought
between this stark picture of their actions and the other types of
evidence, which indicate a fair degree of Hellenism among the
Hasmoneans.
The facts that we have are these. In the books of the Maccabees,
the wars of Judas Maccabaeus are conceived of as directed in an
overall way against 'the Gentiles'. The origins of this hostility cannot
be traced, but it evidently has some connection with the Jewish civil
conflicts, for we hear how the aged Mattathias had renegade Jews
chased up and circumcised and that he found them (not surprisingly)
sheltering among the Gentiles (1 Mace. 2.45-48). The war between
Jew and heathen is visualized in total terms: we are told that the non-
Jewish inhabitants of the region flocked to the Syrian general
Nicanor to escape Judas, 'thinking that defeat and misfortune for the
Jews would mean prosperity for them' (2 Mace. 14.14). After
Jonathan was kidnapped, the surrounding peoples are said to have
been enchanted with the possibility of destroying Judaism root and
branch (1 Mace. 12.53). In fact, however, we can be sure that not all
the local peoples were unfriendly during this period, for the
Nabataean Arabs across the Jordan gave the Maccabees useful
information more than once, and, at Scythopolis, the native Gentile
populace (no doubt a mixed one) offered expressions of friendship
and goodwill to their own Jewish inhabitants and to Judas when he
passed (2 Mace. 12.29-31). There is no reason to think that a
distinction between 'Greeks' and 'Orientals' was made by the Jewish
fighters: Gentiles seem to be all as one. But the basic problem is that
the Biblical archaism of our narratives does not allow us to discern
the real ideology of the war against the heathen: we cannot tell how
far the spirit reflects the agents' own attitudes and how far it is a
literary overlay.16
Both the separation of Jew from Gentile and the destruction of
Gentile settlements seem to have been justified by Judas on the
grounds either of security or of revenge; and, at the same time, the
aura of a holy and cleansing war was never far away. Already in 164
BCE, the Jews were rescued from parts of the Galilee and from Gilead
after fierce fighting, and transported to Jerusalem in a triumphal
procession. The harbour at Joppa, where the people led their Jewish
neighbours into a trap and drowned them, was burned together with
its ships, but Judas left when he found the city gates closed. Very
similar action is said to have been taken at Jamnia, to forestall
violence against the Jews there (2 Mace. 12.3-9). In a different
situation, operating among the 'Philistines', Judas burned the cult
images of the deities of Azotus and pulled down their altars (1 Mace.
5.67-68). The venerable city of Hebron, in the hands of the Idumaean
'sons of Esau', appears to have been treated more leniently, with just
the destruction of its fortifications and of the strongholds in the
villages around it (1 Mace. 15.65).
Judas was succeeded as leader by his more politically-minded

brother, Jonathan (161-143/2 BCE), who played a major role in
shaping a new order. He is not, in fact, associated in 1 Maccabees
with a religious militancy of the intensity of that of Judas. However,
as part of an intensive consolidation of his power through Judaea,
Jonathan did evict the population of Beth-Zur in southern Judaea,
after besieging the town; and he put a garrison inside it. Another
brother, Simon, followed Jonathan to power (143/2-135/4 BCE), and
he returned to the port of Joppa, an outlet to the sea for his nascent
state (1 Mace. 13.11; 14.34). There too he installed a garrison, and his
expulsion of the natives was perhaps a reprisal for the atrocity
they were said to have committed on Judas's day. How total the
expulsion was we cannot tell, though we should observe that Philo,
nearly two centuries later, could describe Joppa as a Jewish town-
whatever that meant (Leg. 200). Simon's other major conquest, after
a siege which seems to have been a highly professional affair, was
Gezer (Gazara), an important defensive position lying on the west
side of Judaea. In this case, there are interesting details of a cleansing
operation: 'he threw them out of the town and he purified the houses
in which the idols were, and so he made his entry with singing and
praise, and he expelled all impurity from the town and settled in it
men who practised the Law' (1 Mace. 13.47-48).17
From such roots came the actions of the later leaders. But, again,
there are hazards in ascribing policy to action, and it is all too easy to
foist an ideology onto a scattering of recorded incidents. What has
happened is that the militant Judaism depicted in the Maccabees has
been attached by extension to the entire history of the dynasty. The
removal of Gentile pollution in conquered territory is understood as
a prime aim of expansion. Judaization of the inhabitants was one
possible route; their removal or even their elimination, another. The
policy would thus have been expressed in a stark choice put before a
defeated people, either to convert, or to face dispossession or worse.
This reconstruction takes account of a distinction between, on the
one hand, a small minority of peoples that did accept circumcision
and all that followeda part of the Ituraeans of upper Galilee and
the Hermon area during the short reign of Aristobulus, styled
Thilhellene' (104-103 BCE; Ant. 13.318-319), together with the
Idumaeans of southern Judaea under the expansionist John Hyrcanus
(Ant. 13.252; 15.255)and, on the other, the so-called Greek cities,
where such a course would be out of the question. The Greek cities
then emerge as the victims of the greatest hostility and the worst
brutality. A view of Palestine as deeply polarized between Greek and
Jew need be only a step away.
There is no doubt that, from the outside, the Jewish kingdom (as it
became) was, in its own day, seen as aggressively expansionist. A
valuable sentence in Strabo's Geography calls the Hasmoneans
'tyrants', which is a technically correct application of Greek political
terminology, since their power was acquired and not inherited, and it
describes them, with only a little exaggeration, as subduing much of
Syria and Phoenicia. Yet we should notice that, in Strabo, there is no
imputation of noteworthy enmity towards defeated aliens on the part
of these rulers. Another Augustan writer, Timagenes (a man known
for his obstreperousness) is cited by Josephus in a tantalizing
fragment as expressing admiration for the way Aristobulus had
served his country when he added the Ituraeans to it by their
circumcision (Ant. 13.319). It is, of course, just possible that
Timagenes had gone on to draw an unfavourable contrast with the
harsher way in which Greeks had been treated by the Jews, but the
apparent tone of the remark (if it be correctly quoted) does not
suggest that. There are no other statements made by, or attributed to,
outsiders.18
We depend for the most part, then, upon material found in Jewish
writing, and, after the death of Simon, that means Josephus alone.
However, his story is not to be taken at face value, least of all where
it concerns Alexander Jannaeus. The existence of two separate
Josephus versions, an early one in the introduction to bis Jewish War
and the main one in the Antiquities,does make it somewhat easier to
stand back critically from what he says. We see that it is with
Jannaeus that the image of an implacable Jewish hatred for Greek
cities gets crystallized, on the basis of rhetoric incorporated in
Josephus's text. The focal point lies in the connection made between
Jannaeus's acts and the subsequent reversal of his dispensation
brought about by Pompeius in 63 BCE, when he swept through
Palestine. The Roman general, who divested Judaea of most of its
Hasmonean acquisitions, came as the liberator of established Greek
cities and the founder of new ones. He was presented as a latter-day
Alexander and was a proponent of Hellenism in the active, political
sense.19 It would evidently have been to his purpose to have the
Jewish monarchy, which he effectively terminated, depicted as an
arch-enemy of Hellenism, the barbarous destroyer of the polis.
Moreover, for Pompeius, it was better to be able to say that he had

rebuilt a city from its foundations than that he had merely given one
a new name. We know that extensive propaganda in both Latin and
Greek accompanied and followed Pompeius's conquests and that
historians especially were (not untypically) harnessed to the cause.
Both of Josephus's known principal sources, Strabo's Histories (not
the Geography] and Nicolaus of Damascus's Universal History, will
unavoidably have drawn on material tainted by this propaganda, and
we can see that the Jewish writer did not escape its influence, even
though in so doing he came into conflict with the loyalties that
sprang from his own Hasmonean descent and from his Jewish
patriotism. Such a passive approach to his task as historian is also to
be found elsewhere in his work.
The link between Jannaeus's depredations and Pompeius's
restorations stands out particularly sharply in the Jewish War
version, where we are told that the Roman conqueror liberated and
returned to their rightful citizens all those cities of the interior which
the Jews had not earlier 'razed to the ground'Hippos, Scythopolis,
Pella, Samaria, Jamnia, Marisa, Azotus and Arethusa (War 1.156).
There is also talk of the reduction of the coastal cities of Gaza,
Raphia and Anthedon to servitude. The Antiquities make no such
claim in connection with the seizure of Raphia and Anthedon. Nor is
any unusual devastation associated here with the siege of Gadara (in
Transjordan), by contrast with the claim in the War that Gadara lay
in ruins until its instant rebuilding was ordered by Pompeius to
gratify a favourite freedman, Demetrius. At Gaza, brutalities are, in
fact, acknowledged by the Antiquities, and there is a vivid description of
Jannaeus's army, admitted into the city by treachery, running riot
and massacring the council, while the king turned a blind eye (Ant.
13.262). But such uncontrolled behaviour is far from unknown in
ancient warfare, and it reflects nothing more than the savagery and
greed of the soldiery. The reputation of his antagonist, Ptolemy
Lathyrus, easily outdid that of Jannaeus, for, according to Josephus,
Strabo reported Lathyrus as ordering his troops to chop up women
and children in the villages of Judaea, boil them in cauldrons and
then taste the flesh (Ant. 12.345-347). It is also worth remembering
in this context that both John Hyrcanus and Alexander Jannaeus
employed mercenaries, and especially that Jannaeus, unable to rely on
local people because of their intense hostility, had drawn on Pisidians
and Cilicians, who are labelled 'Greeks' by Josephus (Ant. 13.374;
378). Another case of destruction in the Antiquities is that of

Amathus, dealt with during a campaign against the Arabs and
Moabites, and scarcely, therefore, a Greek centre. Its demolition is
put down to the simple reason that its ruler, Theodorus, flatly
refused to come out and fight.20
In the Antiquities (13.395-397), we are also given a list, avowedly
partial but none the less interesting, of towns and cities 'of Idumaea,
Syria and Phoenicia' which were 'held by the Jews' at the end of
Jannaeus's life. Eight of these figure in the War among the places
ruined by the Jews, but the later version bears no comment about
their treatment, except in one case alone, that of Transjordanian
Pella, where it is announced that the demolition was due to the
particular reason that 'the inhabitants would not agree to adopt the
customs of the Jews'. In spite of the marked absence of any indication
that such a procedure had been applied anywhere else, the
explanation would perhaps seem to imply a general practice, and to
invite the conjecture that the other places listed in the War had
suffered for a similar refusal, even if it is, to say the least, peculiar
that such dramatic events should have been passed over in silence.
Equally, successful conversions anywhere at all are not likely have
passed unnoticed and should have remained in the record. If we are,
then, disposed to envisage a widespread phenomenon behind the
events at Pella, it is necessary to be clear about what that
phenomenon can possibly have been. What Jannaeus may realistically
have sought, and in some places achieved, was not so much the
creation of thousands of new Jews, but rather a new structure that
recognized the supremacy of a Jewish element in the towns and of
the norms of that element. This would be an entirely intelligible
move, when, in many cases, Hasmonean campaigns had been
justified precisely by the ostensible need to protect Jewish communities.
Such a reading of the words used by Josephus, ta patria ethe, 'the
ancestral customs', would undoubtedly be valid, since, after all,
Hellenized Jews perceived the Mosaic Law as a national constitution,
at any rate when they were expressing themselves in Greek. That
control of the political organs of a city could be a matter of desperate
contention between Greek and Jewish co-residents, we learn from
Caesarea's appeal to Nero on that very matter in the years
immediately before the revolt of 66 CE (War 2.266). This is what
Pella will have scorned, to its cost, and this is the constitutional
arrangement which Pompeius will have undone on arrival in a town,
RAJAK The Hastnoneans and Hellenism 277
the cornerstone of his much-vaunted reconstruction.

That the feature of Jewish barbarism in the stories has been played
up in the historical record, and that it is simply not credible that
numerous major conurbations were reduced to rubble at this time (as
claimed, especially, in the Jewish War\ when we know them
to have been flourishing a generation later, are contentions recently
made in an exhaustive and vigorous fashion by Aryeh Kasher. He
also correctly concludes that the distortion should be traced back to
Josephus's Greek sources.21 But it is less easy to follow him in
ascribing the trouble to the antisemitic impulses of those sources; not
so much hostility to Judaism as enthusiasm for Hellenism would
appear to be the issue, and our knowledge of the specific concerns of
Pompeius offers us a precise context. Apart from that, we must
remember the rhetoric which time and again led Greek historians to
exaggerate the catastrophes of war; A.H.M. Jones noted comparable
treatment of Alexander's operations at Gaza and at Tyre (interestingly
enough, in the same part of the world).22
Hellenism, then, was Pompeius's instrument. It had also been
Jannaeus's. Neither man could afford to go too far, because the home
market would only buy so much 'Greek wisdom' (in the case of
Rome, we have only to remember what Octavian was to be able to
make of the Alexandrian interests of Marcus Antonius). But, in his
conflict with Hasmonean Judaea, Pompeius was able to win the war
of words as easily as he was able to hold the field of battle. Indeed, he
was able to divest the Hasmoneans of all the credit they had
laboriously built up as masters of a Hellenistic state. And, by his
powerful impact on a historical record controlled by Greeks, he even
brought the Hasmonean-born historian, Josephus, unwittingly into
his camp.
It will be clear enough from our review that, during a century of
Hasmonean activity, the leaders' relation to Hellenism did not
remain constant; nor, of course, did the forms of Greek culture
around them. But for our purposes, the development matters less
than the pattern, and that is present already in the careers of the
early leaders. Already, an understanding of the uses of Hellenism is
visible. This could become a contentious matter and be seen as an
assault on the Law, but often enough it was acceptable: there was no
automatic contradiction between what was Jewish and what was
Greek. Such a policy naturally brought in its wake an undercurrent
of diffused cultural change, of Hellenization, in my sense of that
term. In this, the Jews developed along lines similar to the peoples
around them, in spite of the modifications wrought by the complexity
of their inherited religious culture. Hellenization passed for the most
part unnoticed, though it would be wrong to deny that there were
moments of revulsion. Generally, it is the conscious reactions, with
all their political resonances, which are most amenable to purposeful
study.
NOTES
1. These ideas were first developed in a paper presented to the British

Association for Jewish Studies when Geza Vermes was honoured with a
second term as President. Now, what is, I hope, a better paper on the same
theme is offered as part of this Tribute. The debt owed to his interest and
prompting is thus obvious, here as elsewhere. By way of example, this
analysis is much indebted to Geza's demonstration, in so much of his work,
that an unclouded view of the texts can overturn many a conventional view
in Jewish history. A very recent treatment of a number of the issues
discussed here is to be found in Martin Hengel's The Hellenization of
Judaea in the First Century after Christ', London and Philadelphia, 1989, esp.
chs. 1 and 3.
2. For some significant works centering on this dichotomy, see I.
Heinemann, Philons griechische und judische Bildung, Bieslau, 1932; S.
Lieberman, Hellenism in Jewish Palestine (Texts and Studies of the Jewish
Theological Seminary, 18), New York, 1962; Martin Henge\,Judentum und
Hellenismus, Tubingen, 1969; ET Judaism and Hellenism, London, 1974;
Edouard Will and Claude Orrieux, loudaismos-Hellenismos, 1986; and the
many studies by Louis Feldman of Biblical figures in Josephus's Antiquities.
3. Amelie Kuhrt and Susan Sherwin-White (eds.), Hellenism in the East,
London, 1988.
4. On the 'Hellenistic reform' in Jerusalem, see E. Bickerman, Der Gott
der Makkabaer, Berlin, 1937; idem, From Ezra to the Last of the Maccabees,
New York, 1962, pp. 93-111; Victor Tcherikover, Hellenistic Civilization and
the Jews, Philadelphia, 1966, pp. 152-74; Fergus Millar, 'The Background to
the Maccabean Revolution: Reflections on Martin Hengel's Judaism and
Hellenism', JJS 29 (1978), pp. 1-21; Klaus Bringmann, Hellenistische Reform
und Religionsverfolgung in Judda, Gottingen, 1983.
5. For a convenient discussion, see John J. Collins, Between Athens and
Jerusalem: Jewish Identity in the Hellenistic Diaspora, New York, 1983,
pp. 76ff. and the literature there referred to.
6. J.G. Droysen, Geschichte des Hellenismus, vol. 1, Hamburg, 1836; vols.
1-3, ed. Bayer, Tubingen, 1952-53. See A.D. Momigliano, 'J.G. Droysen
between Greeks and Jews', History and Theory 9 (1970), pp. 139-53 = Quinto
contribute alia storia degli studi classici e del mondo antico, I, Rome, 1975, pp.
187-201; also in Essays in Ancient and Modern Historiography', Oxford, 1977,
pp. 307-24.
7. The deep penetration of Greek culture into Judaism was also stressed
by Bickerman. Its imperviousness was stressed, among others, by H.A.
Wolfson, in his great work on Philo (Philo: Foundations of Religious
Philosophy in Judaism, Christianity and Islam, 1947), by Millar, by Feldman
(see especially 'HengeFs Judaism and Hellenisn in Retrospect', JBL 96
[1977], pp. 371-82), and, for a later period, by M. Goodman and M. Stone.
By questioning the dichotomy itself, we alter the terms of at least some of
questions involved.
8. For a brief study, see N. Avigad in Jerusalem Revealed: Archaeology in
the Holy City 1968-1974, Jerusalem: IBS, 1975, pp. 17-20.
9. For types of conscious Hellenism, and also of Hellenization, in
differing contexts, see Fergus Millar, 'The Phoenician Cities: a Case-Study
of Hellenization', Proc. Camb. Phil. Soc. 1983, pp. 55-68; Simon Hornblower,
Mausolus, Oxford, 1982; and, for reflections on Rome, Andrew Wallace-
Hadrill, 'Greek Knowledge, Roman Power', Class.Phil. 83 (1988), pp. 224-
33.
10. On the thrust of 1 and 2 Maccabees, see D. Arenhoevel, Die Theokratie
nach dem I und II Makkabaerbuch, Mainz, 1967; Robert Doran, Temple
Propaganda: the Purpose and Character of II Maccabees (CBQMS, 12),
Washington, D.C., 1981.
11. Seen. 4.
12. Emil Schiirer, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus
Christ, vol. 1, ed. G. Vermes, F. Millar, M. Black, Edinburgh, 1973,
p. 174.
13. Ya'akov Meshorer, Ancient Jewish Coinage, vol. 2, New York, 1982,
p. 77.
14. Meshorer, op. cit., pp. 60-68.
15. See, notably, Schurer, vol. 1 (revised edn), esp. p. 228; and Tcherikover,
whose assessment is just as extreme: op. cit. (n. 4), pp. 243ff.
16. Cf. Uriel Rappaport, 'The Hellenistic Cities and the Jews of Eretz
Israel in the Hasmonean Period', in The Seleucid Period in Eretz Israel, ed.
B. Bar-Kochva (1980; Hebrew), pp. 263-75.
17. For possible archaeological traces of the operation, see R. Reich and H.
Geva, 'Archaeological Evidence of the Jewish Population of Hasmonean
Gezer', IEJ 31 (1981), pp. 48-52.
18. For the Timagenes fragment, see Menahem Stern, Greek and Latin
Authors on Jews and Judaism, vol. 1, Jerusalem, 1974, no. 81; Josephus says
he has it from Strabo's Histories. On the Idumaeans and the Ituraeans,
cf. Aryeh Kasher, Jews, Idumaeans and Ancient Arabs (Texte und Studien zum
Antiken Judentum, 18), Tubingen, 1988, pp. 44-86.

19. On this imitation of Alexander, see A.B. Bosworth, Conquest and
Empire: the Reign of Alexander the Great, Cambridge, 1988, p. 181.
20. On all these episodes, see Menahem Stern, 'Judaea and her Neighbours
in the Days of Alexander Jannaeus', The Jerusalem Cathedra, 1981, pp. 22-
46.
21. See A. Kasher, Canaan, Philistia, Greece and Israel: Relations of the
Jews in Eretz-Israel with the Hellenistic Cities (332 BCE-70 CE), Jerusalem,
1988; Hebrew, pp. 113ff.
22. A.H.M. Jones, The Cities of the Eastern Roman Provinces, 2nd edn,
Oxford, 1971, p. 237.
HADRIAN'S POLICY IN JUDAEA AND THE BAR KOKHBA
REVOLT: A REASSESSMENT
Peter Schafer
Freie Universitat
Berlin
The search for the causes behind the violent outbreak of the Bar
Kokhba revolt, whose relentlessness surpasses and whose aftermath
outweighs that of even the first Jewish War, continues to occupy
scholars with unmitigated intensity.1 The three reasons afforded by
the sources, namely the retraction of permission to rebuild the
Temple, the foundation of Jerusalem as the Roman colony Aelia
Capitolina and Hadrian's prohibition of circumcision, have been
discussed at length and do not require further interpretation.2 The
first reason, the planned or initiated construction of the Temple is the
least likely. As concerns the foundation of Aelia Capitolina,
contemporary research is for the most part in consensus that the
decision was made during Hadrian's visit to the province of Judaea in
the spring of 130. To what extent this decision was responsible for the
outbreak of the revolt is a moot point. The majority of the more
recent scholars see the impulse to revolt less in the foundation of
Aelia than in the prohibition of circumcision. Of necessity, this
implies that the foundation had to have taken place before the
beginning of the war (i.e. between Hadrian's visit in 130 and the
outbreak of the revolt in 132).3
An isolated discussion of possible causes for the Bar Kokhba revolt
is unproductive and is furthermore methodologically questionable.
Through the critical examination of the available evidence of
Hadrian's policy in Judaea and through the questioning of the
sources pertaining to Jewish reaction to this policy, the following
contribution attempts to define more closely the political and
intellectual climate which existed before the revolt.
Judaea between 117 and 132 CE

Information regarding the state of affairs in Judaea between the
suppression of the Diaspora revolt and the outbreak of the Bar
Kokhba War is limited, but nonetheless the general contours of the
situation are discernible. Hadrian belonged to Trajan's general staff
at the start of the Parthian War in 114 and was Governor (legatus
Augusti pro praetore} of Syria from the summer of 117. During the
Parthian War, in 115, the revolt within the Diaspora broke out,
beginning in Egypt and Gyrene and then extending to Cyprus and
the Mesopotamian theatre of war. The revolt in North Africa was
suppressed by Marcius Turbo, praefectus Aegypti and friend of
Hadrian, while the suppression of the revolt in Mesopotamia was
undertaken by the Moorish General Lusius Quietus on the command
of Trajan. Lusius Quietus achieved success quickly through the use
of extreme brutality and was subsequently appointed legatus Augusti
pro praetore in Judaea in 117. Trajan, who had in the meantime
become seriously ill, discontinued the Parthian campaign and died
while returning to Rome in August of 117 in the city of Selinus on
the Black Sea. Hadrian had himself declared Emperor by the Syrian
troops as the adoptive son of Trajan and concluded the retreat
initiated by him. (This adoption had probably been feigned by Trajan's
wife Plotina and the praefectus praetorio, Attianus.) He abandoned
Assyria, Mesopotamia and Armenia and subverted the power of the
most prominent representatives of the warring faction. Lusius
Quietus, the main advocate of the hard-liners, was deposed as
Governor of Judaea and in the early summer of 118 was executed
together with three of Trajan's close war companions following the
accusation of having instigated a conspiracy. Hadrian's declared goal
was to be remembered as an Emperor of peace and as restitutor
orbis.4
1. Judaea had since 74 been an autonomous Roman province
under the authority of a governor of praetorian rank. In the space of
time between 117 and 132 the status of the province was changed and
Judaea was raised to the rank of a consular province (i.e. with a
former consul as governor). The exact date of this change is
unknown although there are a number of points of reference. First of
all, it is generally accepted that the dispatching of Lusius Quietus to
Judaea in the rank of consul in 117 does not necessarily entail
Judaea's status as having been that of a consular province, but was
rather the result of the particular situation following the suppression
SCHAFER Hadrian's Policy in Judaea 283
of the revolt in the Diaspora.5 On the other hand, the Governor of

Judaea during the Bar Kokhba revolt, Tineius Rufus, is referred to as
consul suffectus6 in 127, which would imply that the change in
Judaea's status had to have taken place before 127. Finally, it has
been pointed out that the procurator of the province of Judaea in 123
received the salary of a ducenarius.7 This presupposes a governor of
consular rank, which of necessity then places the change in the status
of the province in the period prior to 123.
2. The status of Judaea as a consular province implies the
stationing of a second legion in the territory. Following the first
Jewish War the legio X Fretensis had been stationed in Judaea, with
its headquarters in the destroyed Jerusalem. The Governor, however,
resided with parts of the tenth legion in Colonia Prima Flavia
Augusta Caesarensis, the Roman colony into which Caesarea had
been transformed. We do not know which legion was stationed in
Judaea after 117 nor when this occurred; however, since the
discovery of the milestone 13 km southeast of Akko, it appears most
likely that it was the legio II Traiana* The inscription on the
milestone is, by the evidence of Hadrian's fourth tribunicia potestas,
clearly dated in the year 120. Hence it follows that the year 120 was
the terminus ante quern for the transformation of Judaea into a
consular province and the obligatory stationing of a second legion.
3. Hadrian continued the active road-construction policy of his
predecessors. In Syria and Arabia this construction had been
completed either under Vespasian or Trajan, and Hadrian clearly
directed his attention to the province of Judaea. The milestones
identified recently9 have evidenced Caparcotna (Legio) in the Jezreel
Valley as having been an important military base which was then
connected with Sepphoris and further with Akko (Ptolemais) in 120.
Hence, it follows that Caparcotna was the headquarters of the new
legion which controlled movement between Judaea and Galilee10 and
furthermore secured the 'lebenswichtige Verbindung zwischen
Agypten und Syrien'.11 Further construction and restoration efforts
appear to have been concentrated in 129/30 and to have included
Jerusalem.12 These may be connected with Hadrian's visit to Judaea,
but there can be no doubt that the Roman road construction in the
provinces was primarily concerned with the improvement of military
infrastructure.
4. Several changes in important cities also attest to the political
activity of the Romans in the years 119/20 (following the Diaspora
revolt) and 129/30 (in connection with Hadrian's visit to the

province). Tiberias had always been a city with a predominantly
Jewish population, but nevertheless had a hellenistic constitution.13
During the first Jewish War the city belonged to the territory of
Agrippa II. Although the rebellious faction was dominant, parts of
the population acted loyally towards Agrippa and the Romans. Thus,
when Vespasian approached, the city surrendered without a fight and
was for the most part spared. Coins from Hadrian's time show Zeus
sitting in a temple, which is believed to represent the Hadrianeion14
as attested by Epiphanius,15 in other words the sanctuary dedicated
to the Emperor cult.
Similar coins from Neapolis16 and Sepphoris are well known.17
Sepphoris, the capital of Galilee, likewise had a predominantly
Jewish population and was decidedly against the revolt during the
first Jewish War, the clear majority of its inhabitants having
supported the Romans (Josephus, the Jewish commander of Galilee
had to subdue the city by force). Sepphoris was in all likelihood
renamed Diocaesarea in 129/3018 and received the official title
AioKaiodpcia iepti aauAxx; Kai autovofioq.19 It has already been
assumed by Hill20 that the renaming of the city may have been
connected with Hadrian's visit to Judaea and with his identification
with Zeus Olympics.
Another Hadrianeion has been attested in Caesarea, which
Vespasian had transformed into a Roman colony.21 Perhaps the
Hadrian statues and the portrait of Antinoos,22 which supposedly
stems from Caesarea, should also be seen in this light. Certainly the
Jewish population of Caesarea was, in contrast to Tiberias and
Sepphoris, not a significant factor.23
5. The decision to reestablish Jerusalem as the Roman colony
Aelia Capitolina coheres with Hadrian's political and religious
activities outlined above, namely the stationing of a second legion,
the intensive road construction and the Emperor cult. Hadrian was
the most active founder and builder of cities since Augustus.24 B.
Isaac and I. Roll have pointed out that the connection between road
construction and the founding of colonies was 'a familiar pattern in
Roman history'25 and that the stationing of a legion generally
followed the founding of a colony: 'In Judaea we have seen the
foundation of Caesarea as a Roman colony at the time when X Fret,
was first established at Jerusalem. Similarly there may be a
connection between the two decisions taken by Hadrian: to assign a
second legion to the province and to found another colony'.26

Although the assignment of the second legion (which Isaac and Roll
date prior to 120) and the foundation of Aelia are not to be
placed in an immediate temporal context, a factual connection does
seem to be apparent. Today most scholars agree that Hadrian's
decision to found Aelia Capitolina was made during his visit to the
province of Judaea in the spring of 130. Of the evidence presented to
support this claim, I do not believe, however, that the one Aelia coin
which was found in a single hoard together with revolt coins and
denarii between the time of Trajan and Hadrian and 130, is sufficient
proof, for there is no indication that this hoard was necessarily
hidden during the Bar Kokhba revolt.27 On the other hand, there is
much which supports Mildenberg's argument that the various
strikings of the Hadrianic Aelia coins took place over a longer period
of time than merely between the end of the war and Hadrian's death
(i.e. the end of 135/beginning of 136 and July of 138).28
Jewish Reaction to Hadrian's Policy

The description of the political situation in the province of Judaea
during Hadrian's reign is not basically controversial. What is
controversial, however, is the interpretation of the evidence in
relation to the question of the Bar Kokhba revolt. Does Roman
action taken after 117 reflect a tense relationship between Rome and
its notoriously restless province? Was the interval between 117
and 132 a period of intensified local unrest met by Roman measures
of suppression which then inevitably led to the explosive outbreak of
the revolt? Was this situation similar to that which existed in the
years prior to the first Jewish War? These questions have been
answered affirmatively by B. Isaac and A. Oppenheimer, who have
characterized the transformation of the province after 117 under the
rubric 'prior unrest' and summarize as follows: 'In sum, it may be
concluded that there is evidence of increased Roman military activity
in the area, both in the years following Trajan's death and in 129/30,
which may reflect a response to local unrest, or preparations for the
suppression of anticipated hostilities, or both'.29
1. The transformation of Judaea into a consular province and the
subsequent assignment of a second legion very probably occurred, as
we have seen, during the first years of Hadrian's reign. The reasons
behind this action are sufficiently explained by Hadrian's desire to
secure peace on the eastern border of the Empire following his

renunciation of claims to the provinces of Mesopotamia, Assyria and
Armenia. At best it could be assumed that the transformation was
connected with the revolt in the Diaspora, although to date no
positive evidence has been presented which would suggest Judaean
involvement in the uprising. (On the contrary, the reorganization of
the province is one of the main arguments for an alleged involvement,
or rather for the theory that the Romans, through the stationing of a
second legion, prevented the outbreak of a revolt in Judaea.30) One
must also ask why the transformation occurred so latenot until
Hadrian's reignand following the suppression of the revolts.
Furthermore, why would Hadrian have deposed the governor of
Judaea, who had been so successful in suppressing the revolt in
Mesopotamia, at a time when Judaea remained a hotbed of unrest?
The recalling and execution of Lusius Quietus naturally had inner
political motivations, but they would have come at a very inopportune
time had Judaea indeed found itself on the brink of open revolt.
2. The forced road construction is also doubtless to be seen in
relation to the efforts to ensure peace and secure the borders in the
Near East. The undisputedly military character of this construction
does not, however, necessarily imply that it was undertaken solely in
order to serve the suppression or hindrance of actual unrest in
Judaea. It is much more plausible to view the extension of the
network of roads under the larger aspect of improving connections
between the provinces of Egypt, Arabia and Syria. Equally important
is the establishment of a passageway and military corridor for the
defence of the Empire's eastern borders which this construction
enabled: 'His (= Hadrian's) activity was devoted chiefly to the lands
which by their position were destined to be the bases on which the
most important military frontiers rested'.31 It is not, of course,
possible to separate clearly the Romans' overall political aims and
the local political effects. However, it is a question of the point one
wants to stress. To argue that Hadrian's military road construction
policy had been 'part of plans for taking drastic measures'32 (sc.
against the Jewish population of Judaea) is a rash and exaggerated
conclusion.
3. Similar conclusions can be applied to the erection of the
Hadrianeia as the centre of the Emperor cult in Caesarea and
Tiberias, to the renaming of Sepphoris as Diocaesarea and to the
pagan character of the coinage of Sepphoris/Diocaesarea, Tiberias
and Neapolis from 119/20. Pursuing a reference made by A.H.M.

Jones,33 Isaac-Roll34 and Isaac-Oppenheimer35 have interpreted the
pagan coinage as evidence 'that Hadrian disenfranchised the Jewish
and Samaritan aristocracies which had hitherto ruled these three
cities and entrusted their government to pagans'.36 The transference
of the civic administrations to 'non-Jewish elements' is, according to
Isaac-Oppenheimer, best understood as having been a deliberate
anti-Jewish measure, namely the Roman response to local unrest
during the years 117-118.37
This interpretation of an unequivocal finding is also questionable.
We possess no concrete evidence that the erection of the Hadrianeia
in Caesarea and Tiberias and the striking of pagan coins were carried
out against the will of the Jewish population and despite their
resistance. The passages from rabbinic literature38 which Isaac-Roll,
following the example of G. Alon,39 provide as proof of 'political
brigandage' in the years before the Bar Kokhba revolt and as the
reason 'for the removal of Jewish leaders from the local administration'40
are altogether dubious. There is absolutely no evidence which can
justify classifying the 'bandits' mentioned in these passages as having
been 'political terrorists'. On the contrary, there is every reason to
believe that quite ordinary bandits are here being referred to.41
Moreover, at least Tiberias, as we have pointed out above,42 had
since its foundation been a city with a Hellenistic constitution and
Hadrian had therefore no need to exclude the Jewish population from the
city council. Scholars do at times change trains. The same A.
Oppenheimer, who, in 1985, together with B. Isaac speaks of the
provocative transfer of the civic administration in Tiberias to 'non-
Jewish elements' had, in 1980, argued in a very different manner:
'The Jews residing in Tiberias and Sepphoris apparently accepted
Hadrian's measures in silence, and it is possible that the influential
among them, some of whom were leading members of the municipal
institutions, were even pleased with them'.43
4. What were the implications of Hadrian's decision to found the
Roman colony Aelia Capitolina upon the ruins of Jerusalem? Was
this the decisive catalyst which led to the revolt, following years of
suppression and increased military activity? Here as well, there is a
lack of direct information regarding the reaction of the Jewish
population, and we can therefore only speculate as to the consequences
which the foundation of Aelia had for the native population.
As has been illustrated by B. Isaac,44 the founding of a colony was
accompanied by two advantages in addition to the increase in status

(for a colony ranked higher than a polis). First, there was the land
and poll-tax exemption and, secondly, the acquisition of Roman
citizenship. These privileges were granted to all inhabitants of the
colony, both to Roman veterans and to the native population. In
consequence, there is nothing which suggests that the foundation of a
colony would have met with such bitter resistance, and this applies to
Jerusalem as well. Isaac concludes that 'Jewish resistance against the
foundation of Aelia may not have been directed against the
establishment of a colony as such. Jews were willing to live as
citizens in poleis and there may be evidence that the status of a
colony was, in their eyes, desirable.'45 As proof of this, he cites the
desire of Agrippa I to solicit Roman citizenship, or at least tax
exemption, for Jerusalem,46 which can only be referring to the status
of a colony:47 'We can be reasonably sure that Agrippa I would not
have considered involving Jerusalem in anything abhorrent to the
Jews'.48 Although not being a historically reliable bit of information,
the reported offer made by the Emperor 'Antoninus' to the Patriarch
R. Jehudah ha-Nasi' to raise Tiberias's status to that of a colony49
also displays the Jews' positive assessment of colonial status.
Oppenheimer had originally argued along similar lines, and saw a
direct connection between the transformation of the civic administra-
tion of Tiberias and Sepphoris and the foundation of Aelia
Capitolina: 'Probably the absence of opposition in Tiberias and
Sepphoris and the satisfaction revealed by the notables encouraged
Hadrian in his endeavor to turn Jerusalem into a pagan city with a
temple of Jupiter'.50
If the foundation of the Roman colony Aelia Capitolina as such
had not been offensive, but perhaps even welcomed, then the
provocation must have had its roots elsewhere. Oppenheimer argues
that Hadrian must have known what the foundation of precisely
this colony implied for the Jews (which also differed from all others,
in that a legion was assigned to it): 'It is unthinkable that Hadrian,
who travelled widely and was naturally curious, did not understand
that he was taking action against Judaism'.51 On the other hand, B.
Isaac states: 'It is therefore quite possible that not the organization of
Jerusalem as a colony provoked Jewish resistance, but the decision to
make it a pagan city and the plans for the site of the temple'.52
However, here again we find ourselves in uncertain waters. Until
now, neither archaeological nor literary evidence has been furnished
which clearly indicates that Hadrian had a temple to Jupiter built upon
the site of the Jewish Temple. As G.W. Bowersock has shown, the
often quoted statement in Xiphilinus' epitome of Dio Cassius, ec; TOV
roO vaoO TOU 06ou ronov vaov ra) Ait etepov dvriyeipavToc;,53
cannot be translated as 'when he, on the place of the Temple of God,
built a different temple (dedicated) to Jupiter', but must rather be
translated as 'when he, in place (instead) of the Temple of God built
a different temple... '54 It is very likely that Hadrian had two statues
erected upon the ruins of the Temple55 and built the Capitol further
to the west with a temple for the Capitoline triad Jupiter, Juno and
Minerva.56 This was surely provocative enough, but not necessarily
more so than the erection of a Hadrianeion in Tiberias. M. Hengel
has, furthermore, recalled that 'die Juden auf den Trummern
Jerusalems schon seit 60 Jahren das Legionslager der 10. Legion,
deren Symbol ein Eber war, und den dazugehorigen heidnischen
Kultbetrieb dulden mufiten'.57 As such, neither the erection of a
statue of Hadrian upon the site of the Temple, nor the construction
of a temple to Jupiter upon the Capitol in the new colony Aelia
Capitolina had been a dramatic new step which by itself would
suffice to explain the explosive outbreak of the revolt.
The attempt to interpret Hadrian's political and military activities
in the province of Judaea as anti-Jewish measures which were
understood as such by the Jewish population, who then responded to
them appropriately, has shown itself to be rather weak. We must ask,
therefore, whether there are any other direct references to Jewish
reaction, either positive or negative, towards the political situation
under Hadrian. The findings here are indeed even less fertile.
1. As has been mentioned above, the few passages in rabbinic
literature which refer to 'bandits' probably active during Trajan's or
Hadrian's reign cannot be interpreted as referring to political
terrorists fighting against Roman rule. Isaac-Oppenheimer further-
more wish to show the Rabbis of Yavneh as having been the spiritual
initiators of the revolt. Their unbroken will to rebuild the Temple
and aspirations towards a unified Jewish nation created the spiritual
climate which then led to the outbreak of the revolt: 'In any event, it
is intrinsically likely that a connection existed between the activities
of the Jewish authorities at Yavneh and the revolt of Bar Kokhba'.58
Jewry as guided by the Rabbis of Yavneh wholeheartedly and
unanimously supported the revolt, and there are even clear indications
that the family of the patriarch moved to Bethar near Jerusalem before
the war, thereby documenting the political desire 'that after its
liberation the centre of Jewish authority would again be established
there'.59 According to Isaac-Oppenheimer, the Rabbis' policy of
unification and the 'undivided resistance to Rome under the
leadership of Bar Kokhba' are inseparable: 'This unity certainly
contributed to the impact of the rebellion, as did the fact that there
was no Jewish party at that time opposed to the revolt'.60
We know very little about the attitudes of the rabbinic leaders of
Jewry towards Roman supremacy during the Yavneh period.
Certainly it was hoped that the Temple would be rebuilt; there is,
however, little indication that it was specifically the Rabbis who had
been the main advocates of this goal. The thesis that there existed an
unbroken political and ideological continuity from Zealot and
Pharisaic circles through the Shammaites and the Rabbis of Yavneh
to Bar Kokhba and his followers61 is not very convincing. The Rabbis
of Yavneh and Usha were much more concerned with the transference
of the priestly halakhah to all Israel than with the rebuilding of the
Temple. The only Rabbi of whom we hear expresses verbis that he
supported Bar Kokhba was R. Akiva,62 and it is well known that he
met with the fierce opposition of the otherwise unfamiliar R.
Yohanan ben Torta. To conclude, by basing one's argument upon this
one dictum alone, that R. Akiva was the spiritual leader of the revolt
and that his behaviour reflected 'the prevailing attitude of the sages
to the revolt and to the man who headed it',63 is more than hasty.
The same is true as regards the claim that Bethar was the seat 'in
waiting' of the patriarch until the reconquest of Jerusalem. This
assumption is based above all upon the statement made by Rabban
Shimon b. Gamliel that he had been one of the many schoolchildren
in Bethar's 500 schools:64 'We cannot assume that he was a student
during the war, for he was appointed patriarch shortly afterwards.
He will therefore have studied in this place before the revolt and it
follows that the family of the patriarch was settled there at the time'.65
This is a pseudo-historical explanation of an aggadic midrash, which
surely is not intended to inform us that Shimon b. Gamliel was a
schoolchild at Bethar and therefore not able to become the
immediate successor of his father Gamliel II, who died about 120,
but first became Nasi' following the Bar Kokhba revolt, as Oppenheimer
has argued.66 If one takes the midrash literally, then one must
conclude that Shimon b. Gamliel was, on the contrary, still a
schoolchild during the revolt and thus was unable to assume the
office of patriarch shortly thereafter. Typical for such a pseudo-

historical interpretation is the arbitrary choice of elements which fit
into the historical analysis. We learn that the stated numbers of
schools and pupils are, of course, exaggerated,67 but nevertheless
Shimon b. Gamliel was a student in one of the schools. Surely
though, this had to have been the case some time prior to the revolt,
for we know that he became Nasi' following the rebellion. That he
claimed to be the only valiant Torah student to have survived the
revolt must then be attributed to aggadic embellishment.
All in all, there is no reason whatsoever to believe that it was
precisely the Rabbis, with R. Akiva at the helm, who spiritually
paved the way toward the revolt and that all of the factions among
the people became united under their leadership. Neither were the
Rabbis of a unified opinion, as is illustrated by the controversy
between Akiva and Yohanan b. Torta, nor do we have concrete
evidence that particular Rabbis supported the revolt. Much more
probable is the thesis put forward by D. Goodblatt, that it was the
priestly faction who provided the ideological background for the
revolt.68 This can be implied, among other things, from Bar
Kokhba's use of the title of Nasi\ which apparently continues the
priestly traditions of Ezekiel and the Qumran community, and above
all through the legend 'Elazar the Priest' which appears on
numerous rebellion coins.69 M. Hengel has further pointed out that
the palaeo-Hebrew letters found on coins of both the first and second
revolts are the '"nationales Schibbolet" priesterlicher Kreise' and
refer to the theocratic-priestly background of both uprisings.70 Bar
Kokhba's ritual observance and devotion to the Torah, which, among
other things, place great importance upon the sabbatical year and the
tithe, can also be seen in this context.71
2. The thesis that the Jewish population, unified under the
leadership of the Rabbis, fully supported the revolt must be viewed as
belonging more to the realm of fantasy than to reality. This can
further be illustrated by the often quoted text from the fifth book of
the Sibylline Oracles:
After him (sc. Trajan) another will reign,
a silver-headed man. He will have the name of a sea.72
He will also be a most excellent man and he will consider
everything.
And in your time, most excellent, outstanding, dark-haired one,
and in the days of your descendants,73 all these days will come to
pass.74
Scholars are for the most part in agreement that the fifth book of
the Sibylline Oracles originated between 80 and 132 and that it was
the work of an Egyptian Jew.75 The list of the Roman Emperors from
the beginning up until Hadrian (vv. 1-50), to which the above quoted
text belongs, must be considered an addition made by a second
Jewish author who was active during Hadrian's reign and before the
outbreak of the Bar Kokhba revolt.76 Otherwise there is no way of
explaining the extremely positive portrayal of Hadrian found here.77
The controversial question is what conclusions can be drawn from
this text. Some scholars see it as echoing the transition of power from
Trajan to Hadrian and the hopes of the Jewish populace in the
latter's rule, which so soon became bitterly disappointed.78 Others
place the text at the end of the period from 117 to 132 and see a
connection with Hadrian's visit to Judaea in 130.79 The interpretation
of this text evidently depends upon the evaluation one makes of
Hadrian's policy prior to 130. Those who view this policy as having been
one of increasing suppression must play down the enthusiastic praise
of Hadrian (which follows the sharp criticism of Vespasian and
Trajan!) and attribute it solely to the beginning of his reign.80 Those,
however, who view the period up until Hadrian's visit to Judaea as
having been a 'Zeit der Rune, wirtschaftlicher Erholung und des vom
Kaiser gefbrderten Aufbaus',81 will probably interpret the text as a
reflection of the peaceful situation and will place the erosion of
relations between Hadrian and the Jewish population in the period
after 130.
Following upon this, it appears to me that the second possibility is
the more probable one. The praise of Hadrian in the fifth book of the
Sibylline Oracles seems to express a broader mentality among the
Jews, as is illustrated also by the coin legends and the building of the
Hadrianeia, one which welcomed and even actively supported
Hadrian's policy of peace. It would be extremely naive to assume
that all the Jews of Judaea celebrated Hadrian as restitutor and soter,
but equally unrealistic is the assumption that his policy was rejected
by the Jews of Judaea as a whole. The praise of Hadrian in Or. Sib.
5 must be seen in the context of the entire evidence pertaining to the
period between 117 and 130 and is by no means the single proof for
support of Roman policy by hellenized or assimilated Jews in
Judaea.82
3. In connection with his discussion of the co/om'a-status of
Caesarea (following the first Jewish War) and Jerusalem (under
Hadrian's reign), which included the granting of Roman citizenship

to all inhabitants of the new colony, B. Isaac has referred to two
military documents which cast an illuminating light upon the
situation between 70 and 135. The first (C/L XVI.15), from the year
71, mentions a Jew from Caesarea by the name of L. Cornelius
Simon, who apparently fought as a Roman soldier during the first
Jewish War. This raises no problems, since the mixed reaction of the
Jewish population of Judaea during this war is undisputed. It is
different with the second document (C/L XVI. 106). Here, one
Barsimso Callisthenis is named as recipient of a diploma in 157,
again a Jewish soldier from Caesarea serving in the Roman army,
who was apparently recruited at the start of the second Jewish War.
This is, of course, much more exciting, for a Jewish legionary from
Judaea, who fought against his fellow countrymen side by side with
the Romans, does not at all fit into the picture of a unified national
revolt which incorporated all classes of the population in the struggle
against the hated Roman rule. Isaac nevertheless concludes that 'he
must have been one of the few Jews who helped to suppress the
revolt'.83 However, how do we know that he was 'one of the few? Neither
this nor the opposite conclusion can be drawn from the source with any
measure of certainty. The fact that such a case was mentioned at all
is significant enough and proves, at any rate, that Jews had fought
against Jews. This had been the case in almost all Jewish wars, and as
such, it would be quite astonishing if the Bar Kokhba revolt was an
exception.
4. The most important evidence for assimilatory tendencies within
Judaism in Judaea before the Bar Kokhba revolt remains the text
from t. Shab. 15 (16),9,84 which I have discussed at length in my book
on the Bar Kokhba revolt:85
The masukh must be (re)circumcised.
R. Yehudah says: He does not need to be (re)circumcised if he has
performed the epispasmos, because it is dangerous (mipne se-hu'
mesukkari).
They said: Many mesukhim had themselves (re)circumcised in the
days of Ben Koziba, they had children and did not die. For it says:
Circumcising, he shall be circumcised (himmol yimmoT] (Gen.
17.13)even a hundred times! And it is also said: My covenant
has he destroyed (Gen. 17.14)to include the masukhl
Isaac-Oppenheimer have paid no attention to this text, although it
makes up the main argument of my thesis on the hellenized and
assimilated Jews in Judaea, who, like the hellenized Jews under

Antiochus IV, conformed to Graeco-Roman culture.86 This is even
more surprising, in that Oppenheimer had, in 1980 (before the
publication of my Bar Kokhba book; the passage eluded me at the
time), established along these lines a connection between the Jewish
city councils of Tiberias and Sepphoris, who had supported
Hadrian's policy, and the mesukhim: 'Those were Jews with
assimilationist inclinations including the "stretched", that is, men
who stretched their foreskins so that they should appear to be
uncircumcised'.87
A.M. Rabello has critically and at length analysed the text in t.
Shab. and my interpretation of it.88 He grants the possibility that the
text may be referring to Jewish assimilationists, but believes that I
had too hastily seized upon this explanation and that I took for
granted, that the one who had been circumcised (an adult) either
performed the operation of epispasmos himself, or had it performed
upon him. Against this, he claims that the text is referring to fathers
who performed the epispasmos upon their circumcised sons, fearing
Hadrian's prohibition of circumcision. (The consequence of this
would be that t. Shab. could be understood, against my argument, as
stating that the prohibition was declared before the start of the
revolt.) The Romans would have had little opportunity, under the
tense situation before the outbreak of the revolt, to pay close
attention to which children had been circumcised before the
declaration of the prohibition and which had been circumcised
shortly thereafter. In this case there would have existed the danger
that 'innocent' children or their parents would have been killed, and
therefore some parents might, out of fear, have performed the
epispasmos upon their children. The danger, of which the Tosefta
speaks, does not refer, according to Rabello, to the physical danger of
two circumcisions performed within a short space of time, but to the
danger which would result from the transgression of the prohibition.
This is an extremely forced (and cunning) interpretation of the
text. To begin with, it overlooks the fact that the phrase, 'because it is
dangerous', is not referring to the original circumcision (which would
be reverted by the epispasmos}, but to the renewed circumcision
performed after the epispasmos. Pursuing the logic of Rabello, one
would have to arrive at the following, rather senseless procedure:
Fathers had their children circumcised, either shortly before or
shortly after the declaration of prohibition, but then changed their
minds because of Hadrian's decree and concealed the circumcision

by performing the epispasmos. During the Bar Kokhba revolt they
then wanted to reacknowledge their Jewishness, and because of the
'danger' posed by the continued prohibition, did not have to
recircumcise their children.
Apart from this, Rabello's interpretation is unsupportable on the
basis of other arguments. The Tosefta text, in referring to the danger
connected with the repeated circumcision, uses the phrase mipne se-
hu'mesukkan ('because it is dangerous'). In connection with the anti-
Jewish decrees from the time of the Bar Kokhba revolt, however, the
Mishnah and Tosefta always use the noun sakkanah (ba-sakkanah,
bis'at ha-sakkanah, min ha-sakkanah we-'elakh).s9 The interpretation
of the 'danger' as referring to Hadrian's prohibition of circumcision
therefore ignores the language of the Mishnah and Tosefta. Further-
more, with regard to the contents, such an interpretation is much too
limited and heedless of the context. The anonymous dictum, which
contradicts R. Yehudah, and insists that a masukh must be
circumcised again, is clearly aimed at illustrating that no physical
harm befell the many mesukhim as a result of a renewed circumcision:
if one had performed the epispasmos 100 times, then he would have to
be recircumcised 100 times, and no harm would befall him! That the
mesukhim who were recircumcised did 'not die' refers to the
procedure of circumcision and not to their having survived Hadrian's
persecution. Finally, Rabello overlooks the fact that R. Yehudah's
remark, as such, has nothing to do with the Bar Kokhba revolt, but
rather deals with the problem of the masukh in general without
referring to the actual historical situation of the uprising. Only
through the anonymous reply can a relation be drawn to the revolt,
and there can be no doubt that this revolt belonged to the past.
Hadrian's Policy and the Bar Kokhba Revolt

The transformation of Judaea into a consular province together with
the obligatory assignment of a second legion and the intensified road
construction undertaken in Judaea cannot be seen as having been the
reply to Jewish unrest, nor should it be viewed as a military
intervention intended to prevent unrest. This action was not directed
towards the repression of the Jewish population, but towards the
establishment of peace and of secure borders in the east of the
Empire. Pagan coin legends and the erection ofHadrianeia in cities
with both pagan and Jewish inhabitants do not provide evidence for
the alleged provocative paganizing of the city councils (in the sense
of anti-Jewish acts). They are, rather, indications of an increasing
adoption of the hellenization, as propagated by Hadrian, by
assimilated Jewish circles. The foundation of Aelia Capitolina was
the most logical result of this policy and was probably welcomed by
hellenistic and pro-Roman elements within the Jewish population.
Positive evidence, such as the enthusiastic praise of Hadrian in the
fifth book of the Sibylline Oracles, the participation of Jewish
soldiers on the side of the Romans during wartime and, above all, the
numerous mesukhim prior to the outbreak of the war, illustrate that a
rather considerable part of the Jewish population in Judaea had
indeed imbibed the 'Zeitgeist'.
It is therefore almost certain that a group of assimilated and
hellenized Jews existed in Judaea90 who welcomed, and perhaps even
actively supported, Hadrian's policy of hellenization,91 and it appears
likely that these were for the greater part city dwellers.92 The
comparison with Antiochus IV and the Hellenists in Jerusalem
remains, in my opinion, not a misguided one.93 It is, however, a
different issue whether this justifies drawing a further analogy and
interpreting the Bar Kokhba revolt as the result of an inner Jewish
conflict between the 'assimilated' and the rest of the law-abiding
population (in the terminology of the Maccabean period: between
'Hellenists' and 'hasidim'). It is on this point that I have received the
strongest opposition.94 M. Hengel, who has most stressed the parallel
between Hadrian and Antiochus,95 is cautious when referring to a
possible inner Jewish conflict: 'Wie E. Bickerman in seinem
klassischen Werk, Der Gott der Makkabaer, 1937... nachweisen
konnte, wurde Antiochos IV. im Grunde in einen innerjudischen,
allmahlich eskalierenden Streit hineingezogen. Das kann man so bei
Hadrian gewifi nicht sagen, doch la'fit sich eine vorausgehende
innerjtidische Auseinandersetzung nicht ausschliefien'.96
The starting point for any realistic evaluation of the situation in
Judaea at the beginning of the revolt must be the realization that
obviously the entire population of the province did not join unitedly
in the revolt (not to mention the Diaspora). An analysis of the
literary97 and numismatic evidence98 limits the extent of the revolt
to the region south of Jerusalem to the coastal plain in the west and
to the Dead Sea in the east. In particular, there is no evidence which
speaks in favour of a participation on the part of Galilee. The Rabbis
cannot be considered to have been the spiritual pioneers of the revolt,

but rather it was the priests who supported the uprising. Furthermore,
the Bar Kokhba letters also indicate that Bar Kokhba did not enjoy
full support even within the region of the revolt and had trouble
keeping his own men in line."
Against this background, it is very probable that Hadrian's policy
in Judaea was judged differently by the various Jewish groups and
that the revolt was also100 an expression of these diverging interests.
The more rural population of Judaea in the narrower sense,101 who
were loyal to the Law and inspired by the Priests, surely viewed the
development in a much different manner than did the urban
population in the larger cities in Galilee and on the coastal plain,
which was influenced by Hellenism. This certainly does not imply
that the rural population of Judaea stumbled 'into a war against the
Roman Empire because of a rivalry between the hellenized and"law-
abiding"Jews in the cities'.102 Nevertheless, the political 'cooperation'
between hellenized Jews and Hadrian undoubtedly intensified the
situation and perhaps led to a state of affairs in which the revolt was
the only way left to stop what the 'pious' saw as a fatal development.
Hadrian was, in Judaea, by no means a player unaware of the rules of
the game; however, througji his enforced policy of Romanization, viz.
Hellenization and urbanization, and hence, through the aggressive
dissemination of an intellectual climate which increasingly found
followers among the Jewish population of Judaea, he may have
become, like Antiochus IV, the 'catalyst' in a process over which he
eventually lost control.
NOTES
1. Cf. e.g. P. Schafer, Der Bar Kokhba-Aufstand. Studien zum zweiten

judischen Krieggegen Rom (TSAJ, 1), Tubingen, 1981; Sh. Applebaum, 'The
Second Jewish Revolt (AD 131-135)', PEQ 116 (1984), pp. 35-41; L.
Mildenberg, The Coinage of the Bar Kokhba War (Typos, 6), Aarau,
Frankfurt a.M. & Salzburg, 1984; A. Oppenheimer & U. Rappaport (eds.),
The Bar-Kokhva Revolt. A New Approach, Jerusalem, 1984 (Hebr.); N.
Bickhoff-Bottcher, Das Judentum in der griechisch-romischen Welt. Gesell-
schaftliche und politische Beziehungen und Konflikte von der Mitte des 1. Jh.
v. Chr. bis zum Ende des 2. Jh. n. Chr. (Diss. phil. Osnabriick, 1984); M.
Hengel, 'Hadrians Politik gegeniiber Juden und Christen', JANES 16-17
(1984-85), pp. 153-82 (Ancient Studies in Memory of Elias Bickermari% B.
Isaac-A. Oppenheimer, 'The Revolt of Bar Kokhba: Ideology and Modern

Scholarship', JJS 36 (1985), pp. 33-60; D. Golan, 'Hadrian's Decision to
Supplant "Jerusalem" by "Aelia Capitolina'", Historia 35 (1986), pp. 226-39.
I am grateful to my student Aubrey Pomerance for the English translation of
this article.
2. Cf. the summary in Isaac-Oppenheimer, JJS 36 (1985), pp. 44ff.
3. Cf. Isaac-Oppenheimer, JJS 36 (1985), pp. 45f.; further Mildenberg,
Coinage, pp. 102ff.; Hengel, JANES 16-17 (1984), pp. 174ff. Mildenberg,
who has critically evaluated my thesis concerning hellenized, pro-Roman
Jews, has not considered my analysis of the Roman sources dealing with the
prohibition of circumcision. He refers (p. 105 n. 295) to Rabello's 'full
account', which is, for the most part, a repetition of Juster's arguments (A.M.
Rabello, 'The Legal Condition of the Jews in the Roman Empire', in ANRW
11.13 [Berlin & New York, 1980], pp. 699-703); cf. on the other hand, T.
Fischer, Review of Mildenberg, Coinage, WdO 17 (1986), p. 183 n. 15:
'Hadrians erneutes und verscharftes Verbot der Kastration betraf m.E. die
Beschneidung nichi1; R. Wenning, Review of Mildenberg, Coinage, ThR 84
(1988), col. 110: 'eine Datierung des Verbotes [sc. der Beschneidung] vor
dem Bar Kokhba-Aufstand ist nicht gesichert und die Argumentation von
Schafer fur eine spStere Ansetzung erscheint dem Rez. iiberzeugender'.
4. Hengel, JANES 16-17 (1984-85), p. 158.
5. B. Isaac & I. Roll, 'Judaea in the Early Years of Hadrian's Reign',
Latomus 38 (1979), p. 55; E. Schurer, G. Vermes & F. Millar, The History of
the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ (175 B.C.-A.D. 135), vol. I,
Edinburgh, 1973, p. 518.
6. Fasti Ostienses, Inscriptiones Italiae XIII. 1, p. 205; Schiirer, Vermes &
Millar, I, p. 518.
7. H.-G. Pflaum, 'Remarques sur le changement de statut administratif
de la province de Judge: a propos d'une inscription rcemment d^couverte a
Side de Pamphylie', IEJ 19 (1969), pp. 232f.
8. B. Isaac & I. Roll, 'Legio II Traiana in Judaea', ZPE 33 (1979), pp. 149-
156; J.R. Rea, 'The Legio II Traiana in Judaea?', ZPE 38 (1980), pp. 220-22;
B. Isaac & I. Roll, 'Legio II Traiana in JudaeaA Reply', ZPE 47 (1982),
pp. 131-32; Isaac-Roll, Latomus 38 (1979), pp. 56ff.
9. Isaac-Roll, Latomus 38 (1979), pp. 56ff.
10. Sh. Applebaum, Prolegomena to the Study of the Second Jewish Revolt
(A.D. 132-135) (BAR Supplementary Series, 7), Oxford, 1976, p. 23; Isaac &
Roll, Latomus 38 (1979), p. 62.
11. Hengel, JANES 16-17 (1984-85), p. 159 n. 33.
12. B. Isaac, 'Roman Colonies in Judaea: The Foundation of Aelia
Capitolina', Talanta 12-13 (1980-81), p. 46; Isaac & Roll, Latomus 38 (1979),
p. 57 n. 17.
13. E. Schiirer, G. Vermes, F. Millar & M. Black, vol. II (1979), p. 179.
14. Hill, BMC Palestine, p. xv; A. Kindler, The Coins of Tiberias,
Tiberias, 1961, No. 7b and pp. 21f.
15. Adv. haer. 30,12, PG XLI, col. 426; P.M. Abel, 'Chronique: II.-Les
fouilles juives d'el Hammam, a Tiberiade', RB 30 (1921), pp. 440f.
16. Hill, p. xxviii.
17. Hill, p. xii: reign of Antoninus Pius.
18. The evidence is a milestone from the year 130 with the new name; cf.
B. Lipshitz, 'Sur la date du transfer de la legio VI Ferrata en Palestine',
Latomus 19 (1960), pp. llOf.; E.M. Smallwood, The Jews under Roman
Rule. From Pompey to Diocletian (SJLA, 20), Leiden, 1976, p. 432.
19. Hill, pp. xi-xiii.
20. Hill, p. xi. In Athens, Hadrian completed the construction of the
temple of Zeus Olympios in 128/29 (Pausanias 1.18.6ff.); cf. Hengel, JANES
16-17 (1984-85), p. 180. Upon Garizim he probably constructed a temple of
Zeus Hypsistos; see Hengel, p. 171 with n. 89.
21. Only from an inscription from the Christian era; cf. Germer-Durand,
'Melanges HI: Inscriptions romaines et byzantines de Palestine', RB 4
(1895), pp. 75ff.; F.T. Ellis & A.S. Murray, 'Inscription Found at Caesarea',
PEFQS (1896), pp. 87f.
22. R. Wenning, ThR 84 (1988), col. 110; idem, correspondence from Nov.
25, 1988: 'Die beiden iiberlebensgrofien Sitzstatuen in Marmor und
Porphyr... verstehe ich als Darstellungen des Hadrian. Bei der Marmorstatue
kb'nnte man u.U. an den Divus Traianus denken. Die Porphyrstatue konnte
das Kultbild des Hadrianeums von 130 gewesen sein.' As to the bust of
Antinoos,cf. R. Savignac,'Chronique', RB 13 (1904), p. 84, No. 2 (plate).
23. Cf. LJ. Levine, Caesarea under Roman Rule (SJLA, 7), Leiden, 1975,
pp. 32f., 34, 44ff.
24. Hengel, JANES 16-17 (1984-85), p. 171 and p. 180 with n. 123.
25. Talanta 12-13 (1980-81), p. 46.
26. Isaac-Roll, Latomus 38 (1979), p. 66.
27. Y. Meshorer, Jewish Coins of the Second Temple Period, Tel Aviv, 1967,
pp. 92f.; cf. Schafer, Der Bar Kokhba-Aufstand, p. 37 n. 32. In the
meantime, B. Lipshitz ('Jerusalem sous la domination romaine. Histoire de
la ville depuis la conquete de Pompde jusqu'a Constantin [63 a.C.325
p.C.]', ANRW II.8, Berlin & New York, 1977, p. 481) has drawn attention to
further Aelia coins which have been found near Hebron together with
Hadrian coins from the time before the Bar Kokhba revolt: 'Ces monnaies
ont fourni une preuve irrefutable que la nouvelle colonie a ili fondle
pendant la visite de 1'empereur dans la province de Jude en 130'.
28. Mildenberg, Coinage, p. 100; idem, 'Bar Kokhba Coins and Documents',
HSCP 84 (1980), p. 333; cf. also Hengel, JANES 16-17 (1984-85), p. 172.
29. JJS 36 (1985), p. 51.
30. G.W. Bowersock, 'A Roman Perspective on the Bar Kokhba War',
W.S. Green (ed.), Approaches to Ancient Judaism, II, Ann Arbor, 1980,
p. 133.
31. M. Rostovtzeff, The Social and Economic History of the Roman

Empire, Oxford, 1926, p. 318.
32. Isaac-Oppenheimer, JJS 36 (1985), p. 51.
33. The Cities of the Eastern Roman Provinces, Oxford, 1937; 2nd edn,
1971, p. 279; idem, 'The Urbanization of Palestine', JRS21 (1931), p. 82.
34. Latomus 38 (1979), p. 64.
35. JJS 36 (1985), p. 51.
36. Isaac-Roll, Latomus 38 (1979), p. 64; Isaac-Oppenheimer, JJS 36
(1985), p. 51: 'an indication perhaps that the local administration had been
transferred to non-Jewish elements'.
38. B. A.Z. 25b; Lam. R. 3.6 = Lam. R., Buber, p. 128; b. Nid. 61a; t. Kel.
B.B. 2.2.
39. Toledot ha-yehudim be-'ere$ yisra'el bitequfat ha-mishnah we-ha-
talmud, vol. II, Tel Aviv, 1961, pp. 1-2.
40. Latomus 38 (1979), p. 64 n. 56.
41. Scha'fer, Der Bar Kokhba-Aufstand, pp. 106ff.
42. Seen. 13.
43. A. Oppenheimer (ed.), The Bar-Kokhva Revolt (Issues in Jewish
History, 10), Jerusalem, 1980, p. 11; English translation under the title 'The
Bar Kokhba Revolt', Immanuel 14 (1982), pp. 61f.
44. Talanta 12-13 (1980-81), pp. 31-54.
45. Ibid., p. 48 n. 78.
46. Philo, Spec. Leg. 36, 287.
47. Following F. Millar, The Emperor and the Roman World, London,
1977, p. 407.
48. Isaac, ibid.
49. B. A.Z. lOa.
50. The Bar-Kokhva Revolt, p. 11 = Immanuel 14 (1982), p. 62. Compare
this with my conclusion in Der Bar Kokhba-Aufstand, p. 49: 'Mit seinem
Vorschlag, auch Jerusalem als romische Kolonie erstehen zu lassen, wollte
Hadrian daher nicht gezielt-provokativ den judischen Nationalismus ausrotten
und rannte er auch nicht unbefangen-naiv in bereits geziickte Messer,
sondern setzte er eine Politik fort, die er bereits auch in Paldstina mit
einigem Erfolg begonnen hatte und von der er annehmen konnte, dafi die
von zahlreichen assimilierten Juden nicht nur geduldet, sondern gewiinscht
wurde'. I am delighted by this additional confirmation which escaped me at
that time.
51. Ibid.
52. Talanta 12-13 (1980-81), p. 48 n. 78.
53. Dio, Hist. Romana 69.12.1.
54. Approaches to Ancient Judaism, II, p. 137.
55. An equestrian statue of himself and one of Jupiter (Jerome, CCL 73,
p. 33), Gaius or Titus (Origen, GCS Orig. 12, pp. 193f); the pilgrim of
Bordeaux (CCL 175, p. 16; cf. H. Donner, Pilgerfahrt ins Heilige Land,
Stuttgart, 1979, p. 56) speaks of two statues of Hadrian and is probably
referring to Hadrian and Antoninus Pius.
56. Bowersock, Approaches to Ancient Judaism, II, p. 137; J. Wilkinson,
Jerusalem as Jesus Knew It, London, 1978, pp. 178f.
57. JANES 16-17 (1984-85), p. 172.
58. JJS 36 (1985), p. 49.
59. Ibid., p. 52.
60. Ibid., p. 49.
61. I. Ben-Shalom, 'Events and Ideology of the Yavneh Period as Indirect
Causes of the Bar-Kokhva Revolt', Oppenheimer-Rappaport (eds.), The
Bar-Kokhva Revolt. A New Approach, pp. 1-12 (Hebr.).
62. Y. Taan. 4.8, 68d.
63. Oppenheimer, The Bar-Kokhva Revolt, p. 15 = Immanuel 14 (1982),
p. 67.
64. Y. Taan. 4.8, 69a: 'Rabban Shimon b. Gamliel said: There were 500
schools in Bethar and in the smallest of them there were no less than 500
children. They used to say: When the enemies are upon us, we will march
out against them with these styluses and will pierce their eyes. When,
however, the sins caused it, they (= the Romans) rolled each one of them in a
scroll and had them burned, and from all of them I alone have remained';
Lam. R., 2.4 = Lam. R., Buber, p. 104; b. Git. 58a; on this see SchSfer, Der Bar
Kokhba-Aufstand, pp. 136ff.
66. Oppenheimer, in Z. Baras et al. (eds.), Eretz Israel from the
Destruction of the Second Temple to the Muslim Conquest (Hebr.), Jerusalem,
1982, pp. 49f.
67. Ibid.
68. D. Goodblatt, 'The Title Nasi' and the Ideological Background of the
Second Revolt', Oppenheimer-Rappaport (eds.), The Bar-Kokhva Revolt. A
New Approach, pp. 113-32 (Hebr.).
69. Mildenberg, 'The Elazar Coins of the Bar Kokhba Rebellion', Historia
Judaica 11 (1949), pp. 77-108; idem, The Coinage of the Bar Kokhba War,
pp. 29f.
70. Review of Mildenberg, Coinage, Gnomon 58 (1986), p. 327; the
symbolism of the coins is also a reference to the Temple (Hengel, ibid.,
p. 330).
71. Cf. Schafer, Der Bar Kokhba-Aufstand, pp. 75f., on the pertinent
passages.
72. Adriatic Sea; cf. also in the rabbinic literature M. Teh. 93.6, ed. Buber,
pp. 415f.
73. Reference to Dan. 4.21.
74. Or. Sib. 5.46-50; translated by J.J.Collins, in J.H. Charlesworth (ed.),
The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha,vol. I, Garden City, NY/London, 1983,
p. 394.
75. Collins, ibid., pp. 390f.

76. A. Rzach, 'Sibyllinische Orakel', PW II.2.4 (1923), cols. 2134-36;
Hengel,J/4N5 16-17 (1984-85), p. 154 with n. 7; Bowersock, Approaches to
Ancient Judaism, II, p. 134 with n. 20.
77. Problematic then is v. 51, which includes Marcus Aurelius; this can be
best understood to be a later addition: Rzach, ibid., cols. 2134f.
78. Alon, Toledot ha-yehudim, vol. I, Tel Aviv, 1967, p. 283; Isaac-
Oppenheimer, JJS 36 (1985), p. 47 n. 61.
79. Bowersock, Approaches to Ancient Judaism, II, p. 134.
80. Although they only criticize other authors, without themselves directly
addressing the text, this seems to be the opinion of Isaac-Oppenheimer, JJS
36 (1985), p. 47.
81. Hengel, JANES 16-17 (1984-85), p. 158.
82. As Isaac-Oppenheimer, JJS 36 (1985), p. 47, have accused me of
arguing. I quoted the Sibylline Oracles at the conclusion of my extensive
discussion of the mesukim, which they have fully ignored. An altogether
different question is whether tension between pro- and anti-Roman groups
was also responsible for the outbreak of the war; see below.
83. Talanta 12-13 (1980-81), p. 50.
84. Y. Shab. 19.2, 17a;> Yeb. 8.1, 9a; b. Yeb. 72a; Gen. R. 46.13.
85. Der Bar Kokhba-Aufstand, pp. 45ff.
86. M. Hengel has also recently argued along the lines of this thesis
(JANES 16-17 [1984-85], p. 160 n. 37); 'Dies weist darauf hin, dafi nicht
wenige Juden im jiidischen Palastina vor dem Aufstand Apostaten geworden
waren und wie einst unter dem Hohepriester Jason in der Zeit des Antiochos
IV. den Epispasmos vollzogen hatten...'.
87. The Bar-Kokhva Revolt, p. 11 = Immanuel 14 (1982), p. 62.
88. 'II problema della "circumcisio" in diritto Romano fino ad Antonino
Pio', Studi in onore di Arnaldo Biscardi, II, Milan, 1982, pp. 206ff. = 'The
Edicts on Circumcision as a Factor in the Bar-Kokhva Revolt', Oppenheimer-
Rappaport (eds.), The Bar-Kokhva Revolt. A New Approach, pp. 41ff.
89. Der Bar Kokhba-Aufstand,p. 198 and p. 205.
90. Naturally, I meant by 'in Jerusalem' (Der Bar Kokhba-Aufstand, p. 48)
Jerusalem as pars pro toto for Judaea. This misleading formulation was first
brought to my attention by Mildenberg (Coinage, p. 103 n. 286), who
ascertains a change of mind between the statements in Der Bar Kokhba-
Aufstand and those in Geschichte der Juden in der Antike (Stuttgart, 1983,
pp. 161f.): 'Schafer has recently modified this point of view considerably...:
the limitation of the pro-Roman/anti-Roman rivalry to Jerusalem is dropped
in favour of a broad-based rivalry throughout Judaea...'
91. Cf. also R. Wenning, ThR 81 (1985), col. 369: 'Dafi weite Teile der
BevOlkerung Pala'stinas Hadrians "Hellenisierungspolitik" begriifiten und
weiterfiihrten, ein Vorgang, der sich nach dem BKA enorm potenzierte, ist
dabei nicht in Abrede zu stellen'; Hengel, JANES 16-17 (1984-85), p. 160
n. 37: 'Dafi diese Kreise das Beschneidungsverbot Hadrians... begriifiten,

ist wahrscheinlich, ob sie die Politik des Kaisers in Richtung auf ein
solcheswie einst Menachem und seine Freunde gegeniiber Antiochos IV.
direkt beeinflufiten, entzieht sich unserer Kenntnis und erscheint als schwer
vorstellbar'.
92. Mildenberg, Coinage, p. 103 n. 286.
93. Der Bar Kokhba-Aufstand, pp. 48f; explicitly also Hengel, JANES 16-
17 (1984-85), pp. 180f.
94. For example, Oppenheimer, JSJ 14 (1983), p. 220; SJ.D. Cohen, The
Second Century 2 (1984), p. 119; R. Wenning, ThR 81 (1985), p. 369;
Mildenberg, Coinage, p. 103 n. 286 and p. 105 n. 297; Isaac-Oppenheimer,
JJS 36 (1985), p. 47: 'This is an artificial transfer of the situation in the
second century BC to that three centuries later, and the Sibylline Oracle is no
sufficient basis for such a theory'; T. Fischer, WdO 17 (1986), p. 183
n. 15.
95. JANES 16-17 (1984-85), p. 180: 'In eigenartiger Analogic zu Antiochos
verstand er (sc. Hadrian) sich als Reprasentant des Zeus-Jupiter auf Erden
und wurde als "Olympics" im griechischen Osten mit dem Gott "identifiziert".
Antiochos und Hadrian wollten durch eine panhellenische Politik die
Einheit ihres Vielvolkerstaates sta'rken'.
96. JANES 16-17 (1984-85), p. 181 n. 125.
97. Schafer, Der Bar Kokhba-Aufstand, pp. 102ff.
98. Mildenberg, Coinage, pp. 81ff.; cf. both maps on pages 83 and 86.
99. Schafer, Der Bar Kokhba-Aufstand, pp. 74f.
100. Certainly not exclusively, but also; this 'also' (cf. Der Bar Kokhba-
Aufstand, p. 49, at the bottom of the page) has been mostly overlooked by my
critics.
101. Concerning the Jewish rural population between 70 and 132, cf.
Mildenberg's apt remarks in: Coinage, pp. 84f.
102. This is Mildenberg's rather ironic citing of my argument, Coinage,
p. 103 n. 286. His remark that 'Schafer fails to explain why and how such a
divided Jewry was able to wage a war of this length, extent and persistence'
(p. 105 n. 297) fails to directly address my argument. The Jewry of the
Maccabean revolt and of the first Jewish War was anything but united, and
nonetheless was able to wage long and sustained warswhy should the Bar
Kokhba revolt have been different?
PARTY
NEW TESTAMENT
THE HEBREW/ARAMAIC BACKGROUND OF 'HYPOCRISY'
IN THE GOSPELS
James Barr
Vanderbilt University
Nashville, Tennessee
The terms 'hypocrite' and 'hypocrisy' are frequent and highly

characteristic features of the teaching of Jesus in the three Synoptic
Gospels (interestingly, no case occurs in John). They occur also in
a few scattered places in other New Testament writings (Gal. 2.13;
1 Tim. 4.2; 1 Pet. 2.1; and see below for the adjective dvunoKpvccx;);1
but apart from these all cases are in Jesus' teaching. The usage is
particularly characteristic of Matthew. Moreover, the terms are
commonly associated with the scribes and Pharisees, and with
Jewish religious behaviour in general (e.g. 'hypocrites' are
characteristically to be found praying in the synagogues, Matt. 6.2,
5). The prominence of this handling of Jewish religion in Matthew,
the first of the four Gospels and in some ways perhaps the most
widely read, cannot have failed to have an effect on Christian
estimates of Judaism down the centuries. And a consideration of this
concept cannot fail to be significant for our estimate of the
originality of Jesus and of the degree to which the Gospel tradition
is accurate in its portrayal of him.
What is hypocrisy anyway? Well, we all know, but as usual it is
not easy to say. It is related to deceit and to pretence, but is a more
specialized thing than either of these. Rightly realizing this, the
Shorter OED finds itself forced to offer a quite long extended
description, thus:
Hypocrisy:The assuming of a false appearance of virtue or
goodness, with dissimulation of real character or inclinations, esp.
in respect of religious life or belief; hence, dissimulation, pretence,
sham.
Hypocrite: One who falsely professes to be virtuously or religiously
inclined; one who pretends to be other and better than he is; hence,
a dissembler, pretender.
Even these descriptions are perhaps not sufficient to include all the
necessary features: one might add, for instance, the tendency to see
faults in others and not in oneself, the tendency to draw attention to
one's own virtue, and the tendency to attach higher importance to
minor matters than to essential matters. Hypocrisy, as normal
speech characterizes it, is thus a quite complicated, but peculiar and
recognizable, bunch of features which, taken as a whole, cannot be
easily replaced by any other expression.
It is possible, we may add, that in the modern world some features
of the traditional meanings have begun to change. I once heard
Professor John Macquarrie, in a sermon in Christ Church, Oxford,
remark that hypocrisy in the modern world was no longer so much
attached to religion, and seemed to find its natural home and finest
exemplification in other areas, of which politics was the most
obvious. And indeed it is so. With the advance of civilization, the Sitz
im Leben of hypocrisy has moved from the synagogue worshipper
with his trumpet (Matt. 6.2) to the trade union official, the public
relations consultant, the media spokesman and the political leader.
But in the happier, older world its central locus lay in religion.
When we turn to the judgment of biblical scholarship, however,
we find some surprising uncertainty. According to one substantial
trend of opinion, the imoKpitai of the Gospels were not hypocrites at
all, not at least in the generally accepted sense as described above.
They were general sinners and evildoers; they might be well
described as crafty, godless, and the like, but the specific sense of
hypocrisy, as usually understood, a sense that has its historical
foundation more within the Gospels than any other place, is said to
be largely absent from them.
And this opinion is not one expressed only by small or isolated
groups among scholars. It is represented, though with some
variations and hesitations, in standard reference works, as seen in the
relevant articles in The Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible (F.W.
Young, vol. II [1962], pp. 668f.) or Harper's Bible Dictionary (J.M.
Efird [1985], p. 414).2 In favour of this view four different reasons
appear to be put forward:
1. The Greek meaning, with its association with the theatre and
the actor who 'plays a part', has no comparable suggestion in
Hebrew.
2. The main Hebrew term that appears to lie behind the biblical
use of 'hypocrite' is *] JH, which however means something more like
BARR The Background of 'Hypocrisy' in the Gospels 309
'godless' and is found in parallelism with expressions like 'sinners',

'wicked', 'evildoers'.3
3. In the LXX unoKpiTfi? is used to render Hebrew *pn and this
appears to be a standard equivalence in the later Greek translators
(Aquila, Theodotion, Symmachus) at those points where evidence
exists.
4. In the Synoptic Gospels, where one book has tinoKpvcai or
unoKpiaic;, a parallel text in another book sometimes has a word that
means 'wickedness' or 'faithlessness'.
We shall look again at these four arguments:
1. The Greek Meaning. We quote the first paragraph of Young's
article:
Originally, in the context of Greek drama, the act of playing a part
and the one who plays a part. The terms were also used
metaphorically to signify the action of feigning to be what one is
not. In English only the metaphorical meaning remained, with the
prevailing signification of the simulation of goodness. This context
of meaning which originated from the Greek drama has no place in
OT thought and hence no comparable Hebrew terms. The RSV
reflects this fact by eliminating the words 'hypocrisy' and 'hypocrite'
from their translations of the OT, whereas the KJV used them 4 ...
This background in the OT and Hebrew is very significant for
interpreting the words unoKptoi<; and vmoicpvcTi<; in the NT,
especially in the words of Jesus. The Greek meaning was as alien to
Aramaic as to Hebrew. It is unlikely that Jesus in the many
passages where he is reported to have attacked the Pharisees as
'hypocrites' was attacking them for simulating goodness...
In itself this view may be all very well. As a guide to the NT usage,
however, it is simply not regulative, unless one is to suppose that no
meanings whatever, other than those present in the vocabulary of the
Hebrew OT, can be significant for the New Testament. Whatever
was the case in the Hebrew books, there is substantial evidence of the
entry of the Greek terms into Jewish use, both in the books of
Maccabees and in Josephus and Philo. We shall return to this
evidence later.
2. The Hebrew (and Aramaic?) words. It is widely accepted that, if
there is a particular Hebrew term that 'lies behind' the Greek terms
of the NT, that term is ^n (see below). The case for this was well
argued by the distinguished French Hebraist Joiion in his article of
1930.5 But, even if we do accept it, the spread and structure of its
semantics, in Hebrew and in the other Semitic languages, are far

from easy to unravel. The word is a difficult one. In the Bible, after
all, there are altogether only a handful of cases. Verb forms are eleven in
number; the adjective ^n provides perhaps thirteen, of which eight
are in Job; and the noun forms *}}h and nB^p have one each. For the
verb forms it is usual to give the sense 'be polluted': thus the earth is
polluted (Isa. 24.5; Jer. 3.1, 9; Ps. 106.38); prophet and priest are
polluted (Jer. 23.11). The few cases of the hiphil all fit with 'to
pollute'(Num. 35.33,34; Jer. 3.2) plus the one of the late Dan. 11.32,
'seduce to apostasy'. The main meaning in the verb forms is
'pollute', that in the adjective form f\yr\ is something like 'godless' or
'impious' (this may apply also to the verb in Jer. 23.11). How these
two senses are connected is far from clear. The noun forms ^n and
ns^n (both once only, Isa. 32.6 and Jer. 23.15 respectively!) might be
either, but perhaps preferably 'wickedness' in the former and
'pollution' in the latter (here applying to the land, as commonly with
the verb). On the connection between the two senses, 'pollute' and
'godless', Joiion, and others before and after him,6 claim to find a
link in the Arabic hanafa 'turn or bend sideways' (Wehr) and 'ahnaf
'afflicted with a distortion of the foot'; but this seems to the writer
quixotically remote from probability, and we would do better to
accept (a) that we do not know the mode of connection between the
two departments of sense in Hebrew, and (b) that, if these Arabic
forms have any connection at all, it is too distant to throw any light
on the meanings in Hebrew.7 Etymology, in this case, misleads
rather than helps. The actual meanings in usage in the Hebrew
Bible are sufficiently well known.
It seems true, then, that the biblical cases do not point particularly
towards ideas of pretence, simulation or deceit. As Young rightly
points out, the cases of ^Jn are often in parallel or in collocation with
'evildoers', 'sinners' and the like (so Isa. 9.16; 33.14; Job 27.8), with
bribery (Job 15.34), with 'forgetfulness' of God (Job 8.13), and often
in contrast with 'righteous', 'upright' and so on (Job 17.8; 20.5); and,
among all the instances, there seems not to be a single collocation
with 'deceit', 'pretence', 'lies' and the like. Thus Young's observations
in this regard may well be right for biblical times.
And the same seems to be true for the three known cases in Ben
Sira (16.6; 40.15; 41.10). From Qumran I would range also with these
the one case of neun in 4Q175.28, where the sense seems to be
'pollution' (in the land) and simply continues the biblical usage. But
the usage in biblical Hebrew should not necessarily be decisive, for
by later times new usages may have been introduced.8 We shall see
that this is in fact probable. Joiion had already made clear that a
historical shift of meaning was involved, and this can now perhaps be
further confirmed from Qumran.
The Dead Sea Scrolls have an important instance at 1QS 4.10.
Here it is noticeable that epn (surely *)Jfi) is ranged in a series with
terms that are markedly terms of deceit and pretence: "ipty, KTO, iron,
all precede immediately.9 This is much closer to the traditional
'hypocrisy' of the New Testament. KB3, p. 322, rightly glosses the term as
'Heuchelei'. The sense thus found comes closer to senses known
from cognates in Aramaic and Syriac; the meaning in Rabbinic usage
is 'flatter, be hypocritical' (Dalman: schmeicheln, heucheleri). ms^n
has remained the central term in the area of'flattery' and 'hypocrisy'.
This Rabbinic sense is likely to be very important for the Gospels.
Whether we explain it through influence of Aramaic, or through the
effect of the Greek usage, or by some other means, and even if there
is no more than this one case at Qumran, a semantic change from
biblical Hebrew seems probable.
It is worth noticing that the vocabulary of deceit seems to have
been increasingly prominent in the religious language of the later
period. Deceit, indeed, is not the same as hypocrisy, but an
increasing sensitivity to deceit, within religion, could be a factor that
would in due course induce a perception and verbalization of
hypocrisy. In biblical Hebrew, and apart from *pn already discussed,
the root that might be supposed to come nearest to the meaning of
hypocrisy is t^ro, a semantically complex term with a variety
of senses. In the Bible it is rare in relevant senses, while the Qumran
texts show it twice in Kuhn's concordance. From the root HD~I,
clearly 'deceive', nono is recorded for three occurrences, and iron,
noted just above, is recorded by Kuhn for seventeen, more than the
fifteen cases known for it in the entire Hebrew Bible. Even more
relevant, perhaps, is the prominent term mp^n, mpl?p'?n, 'slippery
things' (so understood by LXX, with 6Xia0pr||aa, at several points: Jer.
23.12; Dan. 11.21, 32, 34) or 'flatteries', which again comes close to
the suggestion of hypocrisy. The use of language therefore may well
suggest that the sense for deceit and falsity in religion had increased
by the second century BCE, and this on other grounds would not be
surprising.
This being so, it means that we do not necessarily have to find a
single Hebrew term that formed the 'original' or background term to
the imoKprnig, imoKpiou; of the Gospels. We cannot really be certain

that *\in is the sole Hebrew/Aramaic term that it reflects. Although,
as we have seen, Qumran evidence supports a change of meaning in
this word in later times, it does not, from texts known so far, give
evidence that this word had become particularly frequent or
prominent. It is quite possible to say that the sense for the deceit,
flattery, self-exaltation and contrast between ideal and actuality in
religion had reached a high point, and was further developed by Jesus in
his teaching, and that for the expression of this the Greek terms
unoKpiTTjc; etc. were adopted by the Greek Gospels, whether there
was a Hebrew/Aramaic term or not. This is quite possible, and, if it is
the case, then it follows that the contrast between 'Hebrew meaning'
and 'Greek meaning' is no longer relevant. This possibility has to be
taken seriously. Nevertheless the likelihood of a Hebrew/Aramaic
word in the background remains considerable. It is still primarily the
evidence of the later Greek translators that points towards *})r\ as the
central term.
But some other possibilities remain. Another word in the field, and
one that, it seems, has been little taken into account in modern
scholarly discussion, is rnx. Originally this appears to mean
'variegated', 'painted in a variety of colours', and one can understand
how from this sense it could become a term for the hypocrite. It has
continued in Hebrew usage, and the expression of Jer. 12.9, Mix B'1!',
RSV 'a speckled bird of prey', became in Jewish culture a proverbial
expression for the hypocrite, familiar from the work of the early
Modern Hebrew writer Mapu with that title. Now this form of
speech, though doubtless mainly used in later times, has what seems
to be its point of origin, so far as is known to the writer, in b. Sola
22b:
Yannai before his death said to his wife: Don't be afraid of the
Pharisees, nor of those who are non-Pharisees, but of the pynx,
the variegated ones (Levy: 'die Scheinheiligen [wSrtl. die Ge-
farbten]'), who imitate the Pharisees.. .10
The recording, or the creation, of this saying is of course long after
the New Testament. But it is hard to say that it is entirely irrelevant
to the latter. Once again it indicates a response to the situation of the
existence of something like hypocrisy as a religious problem.
Whether the saying is historically genuine as a remark that Yannaeus
might have made, one cannot say; it may well be only a vague later
reminiscence of his reign. But the connection with the Pharisees and
their opponents gives the impression of at least some connection,
however distant, with the picture drawn in the Gospels. Our purpose
here is not to determine the historicity of such traditions; it is rather
to note that, whatever the degree of historicity, the tradition,
recorded in the Talmud, appears to validate for Talmudic times the
term rns with the sense of 'apparently, outwardly, holy', coming
close therefore to 'hypocrite', a fact which makes it hard to deny at
least the possibility of its existence in the first century CE. 'Die
Scheinheiligen' comes remarkably close to the conceptuality of the
Gospels.
Yet other suggestions have been made. Matthew Black in his An
Aramaic Approach to the Gospels and Acts does not mention the
possibilities discussed above, nor Jouon's authoritative article.11 But
he makes yet another proposal. On his pp. 177f., Black, writing of
Matt. 6.2, 5, states that for the Greek unoKpvcai the Aramaic word
was saqqdrin or saqqare. The point of this is that it creates a word-
play in the sentence, and Black is interested, in this section of his
book, in suggesting word-plays which can be detected if the original
Aramaic behind the Greek is reconstructed. Thus saqqdrin provides
a word-play with suqin 'the streets' in v. 2 and with seqdqe 'the open
places' in v. 5. But this, while an interesting suggestion, carries little
conviction. For saqqdrin would mean 'liars', 'faithless ones', and
would naturally generate in Greek yeuarai or dmcrcoi rather than
imoKpvcai.12 Moreover, this meaning would not fit the contexts:
blowing a trumpet to attract attention when giving alms, or loving to
stand and pray in the streets, to be seen by men, may be hypocrisy,
but it is hardly lying. Black, surprisingly, does not even consider the
widely accepted idea that the underlying Semitic word was fpn or the
like. Nevertheless his proposal, in itself highly unlikely, does call
attention to the fact that no completely certain identification of any
such Semitic word can be made. Possibly, indeed, there never was
any one Hebrew/Aramaic word that formed the background to New
Testament usage concerning hypocrisy: if this is so, it has considerable
repercussions on our view of the relation of Jesus (or of the Gospels)
to Greek or to Jewish culture respectively. Yet a connection with spn
remains probable. Even if our interest in it depends on scarce
evidence from Qumran, plus the usage of the LXX and other Greek
versions of the Old Testament, that usage, to which we now turn, is
probably enough to demonstrate the importance of this term.
3. The Greek Old Testament, and other Jewish Greek usage. It is

commonly thought that the use of OnoKpiTT]*; to render f\yn in the LXX
forms a starting-point for our theme. In fact, however, as Young,
following Hatch, correctly notes, there are no real cases of this in the
LXX proper. The two registered by Hatch and Redpath, Job 34.30 and
36.13, are both in passages which were absent from the original LXX
and were later restored from Theodotion (rightly so marked in
RahlTs' edition).13 Job 40.2, registered under unoKpiOriae-cai by
Hatch and Redpath, is also a post-LXX rendering; moreover, it should
doubtless (a) be read as dnoKpiGfiaerai with Rahlfs' edition, in which
case it is no longer relevant to our theme; and (b) in any case,
rendering Hebrew rur 'answer', even if the reading with uno- should
be right, it is simply a case of the older Greek sense of that form as
'answer'; it thus has nothing to do with the matter of hypocrisy.
The original LXX, then, had no cases at all of the Greek words
imoKpu;f|<; etc. The adjective ^n, which we have seen to be perhaps
the most relevant of biblical Hebrew words, was mainly translated by
common terms like dvouo? (Isa. 9.16,10.6; some MSS at Prov. 11.9;
also dvona for ^n at Isa. 32.6); nctpdvoîoc; (Job 17.8) and doepr|<;
(Job 8.13; 15.34; 20.5; 27.8).The three cases in Ben Sira are in Greek
dneiOifc (16.6), dKd9apTO<; (40.15), and doe3ri<; (41.10). The only
sharply different case is 86Xo<; at Job 13.16, a case which may mark
the first movement of a shift towards the NT sense of'hypocrisy'; cf.
the linkage of 66Ao? and unoicpiaic; in Philo, Spec. Leg. 4.183.
The usage of the original LXX thus comes close to what we have
seen of the semantics of *pn in biblical Hebrew: it was a general term
for impiety, disobedience to the law. The only case that suggests the
nuance of dissimulation, pretence and the like, is the 86Ax>c; of Job
13.16.
Equally striking, however, is the unanimity of the later strata of
Greek translation in using unoKpirf|<;, urroKpioi? etc. in the rendering
of this word. At Isa. 9.16 and 33.14 Aquila, Symmachus and
Theodotion all have unoKpvnte; at Prov. 11.9 all three have it; in Job
we have already noted that Theodotion had it at 34.30 and 36.13; at
15.34 Aquila and Theodotion have it (Symmachus evoxo?); and
Aquila has it at 20.5. At Isa. 32.6 all three have unoKpiai? for Hebrew
^Jh, and one at least of the versions has it also at Ps. 35(34).16
(Symmachus in Hatch and Redpath, Aquila in Reider-Turner). In
other words, where the readings are available, the later Greek
translators seem to show an almost exact correspondence between
Hebrew epn and Greek imoKpvnte, UTTOKpiau;. The only somewhat

peculiar case is Symmachus's imoKpirrjc; for Hebrew Dnnj t^N at
Hos. 6.9. There can be no doubt that by the time of origin of these
translations unoKpvcfjc; and imoKpiau; have become a rather standard
rendering of Hebrew epn and a rather standard element in the
vocabulary of Jewish biblical expression. This being so, it is an easy
conclusion that it fits in with the movement of the noun ^n into the
field of'deceit, falsehood', which we have seen probably to exist, even
if rarely, in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Thus, even if the RSV was right, in
its translation of Job and other OT books, in rendering with 'godless'
or the like for the meaning in these books, the KJV with its 'hypocrite,
hypocrisy' was correctly rendering the later Jewish tradition, a
tradition which, as we now see, may well go back to Qumran times
themselves, and may well be significant for the New Testament.14
In this connection the usage of the Books of Maccabees is very
important. The verb occurs at 2 Mace. 5.25; 6.21, 24 and 4 Mace.
6.15,17, and the noun unoKpiai<; at 2 Mace. 6.25. 2 Mace. 5.25 refers
to the villainous deceit of Apollonius who, rov eipTivucov imoKpi6ei<;
'pretending to be peaceably disposed' (RSV), was actually planning to
massacre the populace of Jerusalem. This is a villainous simulation
of goodness. The other cases are the reverse: Jews, threatened with
death for refusing to sacrifice or eat heathen meats, are offered a way
out through pretence: one can pretend to conform while not really
meaning it. This is 'hypocrisy' of a special or converse type: one is
tempted to seem worse than one really is, in order to save one's life.
Such a pretence, however, shatters one's inner integrity, and is
indignantly rejected by the Maccabaean heroes.15 Pretence is here a
serious fault, for it opens a deep chasm between one's outward
behaviour and one's inner conviction and devotion. In this respect it
comes closer to the New Testament usage; but what is rejected is not
the pretence or hypocrisy of the 'right' religion, if one may so call it,
but the pretence that one is willing to conform to demands that
contravene that right religion.
Ben Sira is also important. Although, as we have seen, the three
places at which epn is known in the Hebrew text are all translated by
other terms than the unoKpu:f|c; group, there are two places where we
have 6 unoKpiv6|aevo<;. The first is at 35(LXX 32).15, translating
r^rftna, and probably understood by the translator in this way:
He who seeks the law will be filled with it,
and he who pretends will find it a stumbling block.
Dictionaries give 'be a madman' as the sense of rbrb (Prov. 26.18),

but that can hardly be the sense perceived here by the translator;
more likely, if we may assume that he had the same text, he took it,
rightly or wrongly, to be a word for 'hesitate', 'be divided in mind',
etc. The second is at 36(LXX 33).2, where we have the same rendering
for BDiono, giving the Greek as:
A wise man will not have the law
but one who makes pretence of it (6 imoKpiv6|aevo<; ev CO>T<); RSV
he who is hypocritical about it) is like a boat in a storm.
Here again we see a probable association with division of the mind,

contradiction between profession and actuality.
To this finally we should add the very substantial use of the
imoKpitfjs group by Josephus and also by Philo. According to the
Josephus concordance, for example, this writer had ujroKpitfi? once,
imoKpioi? eight times, and unoKpivojaai 26 times. The phenomenon
of human simulation and pretence was highly familiar to this man of
first-century Palestine. John of Gischala, his inveterate enemy, was a
uiroicpirfis 4>iAav0po)TTia<;, one who simulated love for humanity
when in fact being full of base knaveries and malicious designs (BJ 2.
587). Anyone who lived in Herodian Palestine was familiar with this
sort of thing. Herod himself, accusing his son Antipater before Varus,
professed himself astonished by his son's knavery and hypocrisy, TO
navoupyov ev eKaarcp K<xi TTJV imoKpiaiv (BJ 1.628; cf. 630). We
may add that Josephus used other Greek terms for the virtues
simulated by such persons; this, even if not from the same word
group, corroborates the perception of what we call hypocrisy. The
existence of the Josephus material has indeed been noted before, e.g.
in Wilckens' TDNT article, but the extent of it is evidence of the
familiarity that people had with hypocrisy, and their perception and
verbalization of it. It was not mere evil-doing, but the simulation of
goodness and the pretension of high-minded ideals on the part of
evil-doers, that was the point. In Philo, the importance of our words
has already been adequately registered by Wilckens, p. 565.
To sum up, therefore, up to this point: even if the older Hebrew
had no widely used term in the semantic field of hypocrisy, and even
if this was still so in the earlier strata of the LXX, the usage of
Maccabees and of Josephus shows the entry of such terms, which the
later translations of the Bible then use repeatedly. It cannot be
definitely proved, but is very likely, that the old but infrequent terms
e^n and ^h shifted in meaning within Hebrew/Aramaic in order to
adjust to the consciousness of this meaning. The change may stem in

part from the impact of Greek usage, and the increasing awareness of
the difference between profession and actuality that Greek culture
implied, and in part also from the issue of pretence in religion which
was brought to the fore in Maccabaean times. In either case it meant
that Hebrew/Aramaic terms understood in the sense 'hypocrite,
hypocrisy' may well have existed. The evidence of the later
translators of the Hebrew Bible makes it clear that ^n was
understood as such a term. This in itself, however, does not prove
that ^Jn was the term, or the sole or exclusive term, used by Jesus or
lying behind the gospel tradition.
4. The Differences of Terms within the Gospels. In arguing that the
'Greek meaning' of simulation of goodness is absent from the
Gospels and is 'as alien to Aramaic as to Hebrew', F.W. Young (IDE,
vol. II, p. 669) goes on:
This is substantiated by the several instances in the Synoptic
gospels where in the same saying we have alternate readings. E.g.,
the reading 'their hypocrisy' in Mk. 12.15 becomes 'their malice'
(novnpiav) in Matt. 22.18 and 'their craftiness' (navoupyiav) in
Lk. 20.23. The words 'the hypocrites' in Matt. 24.51 alternate with
'the unfaithful' (dnicrcoi) in Lk. 12.46.
Such argumentation, perhaps unintentionally, creates the impression
that, since the quality that is 'hypocrisy' in one gospel is 'malice',
'craftiness' or 'faithlessness' in another, hypocrisy therefore is more
or less the same thing as these other bad qualities and not sharply
distinct from them. This, however, is surely a mistaken conclusion. A
person who is a hypocrite may well be also malicious, crafty and
faithless, but this does not mean that these terms are identical in
scope. Each account or narrative may pick out one or another as the
aspect that it wishes to identify or emphasize. There is no reason
therefore, from the fact that a hypocrisy term may be replaced in
another account by a different term for a fault or vice, to suppose
that the texts, even when taken together, lump hypocrisy together
with these other faults as just more or less the same thing.
If it is right that there is a Hebrew/Aramaic underlying term, such
as ppn, this could confirm the above argument even further. For we
have seen that this term, though understood in later texts very
markedly as hypocrisy or the like, had in its older, biblical, usage
been employed in much more general senses such as 'ungodly' or
'impious', senses that were still doubtless known in Qumran times
and co-existed with the later meanings. Some variations in wording

as between different Gospels could thus perhaps be explained as
different reflections in Greek of a word that had had a very varied
semantic history. Thus, to take the most obvious case, the dmcrccov
of Lk. 12.46, at a point where the parallel Matt. 24.51 has unoKpinov,
is practically identical with the dneiGfic; of Sir. 16.6, which renders
*j:n.
The same point may be relevant for the fact, emphasized by
Hatch, that some references to 'hypocrites' in the NT may seem to be
unfitting for the context. As he says, if a master finds the overseer
beating his fellow-slaves (Matt. 24.51), it is not strange that the
master scourges him, but it is strange that he 'appoints his portion
with the hypocrites'; in what way had he been 'hypocritical'? It
would be mere bathos, Hatch says, to understand this as appointing
his portion 'with the false pretenders'. And so also with some other
passages. Some such passages could reflect the older, biblical, sense
of "pn; this fact however would not alter the reality of the designation
of actual 'hypocrisy' through the same terms elsewhere. Another
explanation would be that the NT condemnation of 'hypocrisy'
became so influential and so noticeable that it began to be applied
unthinkingly as a criticism of persons to whom it did not strictly
apply.
I do not wish to place too much emphasis on this part of the
argument, but it is a reasonable possibility. The Hebrew/Aramaic
original would then provide a good reason for variations in the Greek
terms. It would not mean, however, that the peculiar sense of
'hypocrisy' had not been meant exactly so by some Greek texts
which used that word. It would mean only that an underlying
Hebrew/Aramaic term was itself somewhat ambiguous and could be
taken in another way.
In addition we should note the widespread distribution of the
'hypocrisy' terms in the Synoptic Gospels. That Matthew has the
largest number is obvious: some of them are in material peculiar to
Matthew (e.g. 6.2,5,16; 22.18), others are in material found in rough
parallel in Luke but without the precise term 'hypocrite' (so for
example Matt. 23.23, 25, 27, 29). Matthew's repeated use of the
'hypocrite' terms, as in chs. 6 and 23, makes them very obvious as a
central element in his presentation. But it cannot be thought that
Matthew simply maximized the incidence of these terms. At Matt.
22.18 he wrote novripiav where Mark had unoKpioiv and Luke
navoupyiav. And there are two places at which Luke has 'hypocrites',
Lk. 12.56 and 13.15, where Matthew has no such term. The element
of attention to 'hypocrisy' in the Synoptic Gospels is not confined to
Matthew but appears to be common to all strands.
Conclusions
Some, at least, of the past discussion has been misled by its insistence
on the distinction between the 'Greek meaning' and the direction in
which the Hebrew evidence pointed. Because the Greek meaning
was supposed to derive from the theatre and its actors, something
quite marginal to Jewish life, it was suggested that the elements of
pretence, simulation, and self-advertisement, which are characteristic
of the traditional sense of 'hypocrisy', were actually muted in, or
absent from, the biblical texts that handled the matter. The biblical
'hypocrite' was therefore a sinner, a breaker of the law, a godless
person, rather than what has actually been understood as a
hypocrite. This, it was thought, was supported by the fact that the
biblical Hebrew ^Jn, the most likely Semitic term to have been
involved, was used in that way in the OT and so understood in the
earlier strata of the LXX.
But this argument was mistaken. The sense of pretended and self-
assumed virtue, simulation and deceit, 'hypocrisy' in the traditional
sense, clearly became present in Palestinian Jewish life in the later
centuries before Christ. Qumran evidence, though slight in amount,
and the solid evidence of the later translators of the Old Testament,
makes it probable that Hebrew/Aramaic terms, including în, were
thus understood. Whether we call it a 'Greek meaning' or not does
not matter much.16 It was a meaning present in the texts, and most
obviously of course in the Gospels. Quite possibly people had no
thought, in using it, of actors and the theatre: certainly a în was not
an actor in the Greek sense of an actual stage performer.17
The customary argument depends too much on derivation. The
metaphorical connections of the Greek sense, even if people knew of
them, were not important. In fact, it must be doubted whether the
biblical imoKpiTfi? should really be understood as founded upon
metaphoricization from the Greek sense 'actor'. A unoKpiTf)<; was a
person who unoKpiveiav. In the Attic theatre that meant 'speak in
dialogue, hence play a part on the stage' (Liddell and Scott), i.e. an
actor. But a unoKpvote could be anyone who unoKpiverai in other
senses of that verb, thus for example an 'interpreter' of riddles or

dreams, a 'reciter'. By late Hellenistic times unoKpiveaGcu was in
wide usage as 'to feign, pretend'. A imoKpu:f|<; was one who did this.
The form had indeed been used, earlier and elsewhere, of an actor on
the stage, but no reference back to this sense was necessary in order
that the word should be used in this newer sense. It is thus not
surprising that the biblical use of unoKpirn<; is nowhere accompanied
by associations of the stage, drama, tragedy, dialogue, the watching
public and so on. 'It is still a puzzle however', says Wilckens tellingly,
'why it should be described as "acting"' (TDNT, p. 566). Not at all,
because it wasn't described as 'acting'. The words meant, directly
and not metaphorically, hypocrite and hypocrisy. Even if the
sensitivity to this sense came out of contact with Greek culture, by
New Testament times this sense had, in all probability, been taken up
into Hebrew/Aramaic vocabulary.
The matter of metaphor is thus, in this case, highly paradoxical. I
have suggested that unoKpirnc; of the Gospels was not really 'derived'
out of the Greek sense as an 'actor', a sense that had little or no
foothold in Jewish culture. But, on the other hand, it turned out
coincidentally that a hypocrite was very like an actor. He was one
who played a role, acted a part, a role that the prevailing religion
required people, or some people, to play. It is not surprising therefore
that the similarity to the Onoicprnte of the Greek stage has interested
readers of all kinds, even if there is no direct historical or derivational
connection. The 'Greek meaning' and the biblical meaning turned
out to have a lot in common.18
Hypocrisy was something quite different from impiety, godlessness
and the like. The same people might show both, but the terms did not
designate the same features. Wilckens in his important article seems,
if one understands him, to want above all to show that hypocrisy is
sinful. Well, of course it is, but that is not the main point. The point is
not that hypocrisy is wrong, but that hypocrites are what the people
in question are. The identification and conceptualization of a group
of attitudes as 'hypocrisy' was central. It is quite wrong of Wilckens
(p. 565) to say that 'the translation "hypocrisy" is hardly apt'. It is
very apt. Hypocrisy was not at all 'general wickedness or evil' (Efird,
he. cit.\ though we have admitted that there might have been some
cases where inexact rendering of the ambiguous *)Jn could have
caused this impression. It was a quite particular designation that
picked out special features. To blow a trumpet when giving alms, or
to discern the speck in another's eye while ignoring the large piece of
wood in one's own, or to try to trap someone in argumentthese
things are not law-breaking or general wickedness or evil. They are a
quite specific constellation of features for which 'hypocrisy' is much
the best expression we have, such terms as 'pretence' or 'simulation'
being only part of it.
The Synoptic Gospels brought hypocrisy into the centre of the
evaluation of religion. Hypocrisy itself was nothing new, and had
been widely noted. For the Maccabees it was a problem of people
who were actually good but pretending to be wicked in order to s* ve
their lives. In Josephus's world, there were plenty of dissembling
villains, extolling virtue while pursuing vice. In Jesus' teaching, by
contrast, criticism for 'hypocrisy' is directed against respectable
religious figures, and this to a degree that seems unprecedented,
although there may have been more of it in the Qumran community
than is evidenced by the one case of epn at 1QS 4.10. John the
Baptist, greeting the Pharisees and Sadducees as 'You brood of
vipers!' was doubtless also a forerunner in this as in other aspects.
But the teaching of Jesus seems to have emphasized it even more.
Another factor that supports the position taken in this article is
this: those who represent the modern tendency and interpret
'hypocrisy' less as pretence and more as general evildoing seem not to
succeed in producing a clear or adequate account of their own
position. Thus, to quote Young again:
Jesus does not attack the Pharisees for insincerity in feigning
goodness, though they knew they were evil. On the contrary, it is
because they are so self-righteously convinced of their goodness
that he castigates them. Their blindness sets them in opposition to
God... They make [people] children of Gehenna. They are
compared to unmarked graves... which contaminate those who
walk upon them... This is consistently the field of meaning in the
many sayings where Jesus uses the terms 'hypocrisy' and
'hypocrite'.. ,19
I cannot see what difference this makes. Hypocrisy isn't pretending to
be good, it is self-righteousness. But what is self-righteousness other
than a more complex expression for pretending to be good, or at least
a lot better than one actually is? Self-righteousness is a central
ingredient in the traditional understanding of what hypocrisy is. It
seems that those who wish to understand it as a more general impiety
or godlessness are driven back in the end to reaffirming what they
had begun by seeking to limit or eliminate.
The two great historical questions have been left to the end, and
will not be answered here: (a) was the New Testament fair to the
scribes and Pharisees, and to Judaism in general? Is that tradition
rightly evaluated as involving 'hypocrisy' to the extent that these
writings seem to imply?, and (b) did Jesus in his actual teaching lay such
stress upon this judgment, or is the stress upon it a product of later
church tradition, as represented, especially, by Matthew? For the
first question, it may be that the wish to avoid attributing 'hypocrisy'
to major traditions within Judaism has led readers to favour the re-
analysis of 'hypocrisy' as basically evil-doing, godlessness and the
like.20 But even if we do not like the analysis of such traditions as
'hypocrisy', we have the duty of finding out as exactly as we can what
was meant by the terms. That the analysis was meant as one
detecting 'hypocrisy' seems to me unavoidable. Whether this was a
just judgment is another matter.
Geza Vermes would be far more able than the present writer to
determine whether the' historical Jesus used the categorization of
hypocrisy as much as the gospel traditions on their surface suggest. I
would make only this point: though the general idea of hypocrisy was
familiar enough, and the radicality of the contrast between high
professions and low actual motivations was commonplace in first-
century Palestine, the degree of its application to religious figures
well respected in the culture seems highly original and idiosyncratic.
As has been pointed out, the stress on it in Matthew in particular
does not conceal the fact of its presence in other strands of the
Synoptic material, and its complete absence from John is also
significant. The form and precision of the attribution of 'hypocrisy'
may well point to the creative perception of one single mind.
Even if Jesus did analyse contemporary religion as involving
'hypocrisy', this does not necessarily mean that this applied to
Judaism more than to any other religion or stage of religion. The
Jesus of the Synoptic Gospels addressed the dominant religious
leadership of his own time and situation; the question of Christian
hypocrisy is one that he could hardly have been expected to take up.
Christian hypocrisy, however, has not been absent from the scene of
history. In the earliest times it was already there. Peter himself, and
his associates, were according to St Paul implicated in OnoKpiai?
(Gal. 2.13; RSV 'insincerity', KJV 'dissimulation').21 1 Tim. 4.2 and 1
Pet. 2.1 both warn against tmoKpiaeiq that could arise within the
Christian community. The adjective dvimoKpvcoc;, 'unfeigned', is
used no less than six times, of love, faith and wisdom. The story of
Ananias and Sapphira does not contain the actual word 'hypocrisy',
but his 'lying to the Holy Spirit' in pretending that he had given all
the proceeds of his property to the apostles, while concealing that he
had kept some for himself, looks like the same sort of thing.
Christianity, then, had to be on the watch for hypocrisy within its
own constituency.
And no wonder: for hypocrisy is not easy to be rid of. 'It is the law
of goodness to produce hypocrisy', says Mozley, in a saying justly
thought worthy of citation by the OED. Any serious religious, ethical
or political system is likely to be hypocritical. People demand it. High
moral standards must be professed and upheld. It is the business of
religions, moral codes and political organizations to do so. A
politician who openly says that he is in politics for the sake of its
excellent opportunities for peculation and corruption will not be
elected. A party that professes that its sole policy is to slant the
economic system in favour of those who have voted on its side will be
looked at askance. A newspaper that proclaims on the front page that
its selection and presentation of news is motivated solely by the
desire to increase its own circulation and thereby the pay packets of
its staff will not be read, it is feared, as much as one that professes the
highest ideals of objectivity and public service. All along, even if our
actions fall short of our ideals, we want our ideals to be maintained.
The higher the ideals, the greater the resultant contradictions. The
teaching of 'Jesus', whether the historical Jesus or the Jesus of
Matthew or of the gospel traditions, understood the existence of
these problems, and its attention to them formulated and delineated
the idea of hypocrisy in a classic mode, which has remained basic to
human self-understanding ever since. The achievement of this
insight should not be allowed to be obscured by inadequate or
confused exegesis.
It is a pleasure to dedicate these thoughts to Geza Vermes, a
powerful scholar and thinker in all such matters, and long a colleague
and friend, especially in our years at Oxford together.
NOTES
1. Incidentally, we admit from the start that there may be cases where the
Greek unoKpiaix; does not mean as much as 'hypocrisy': so for instance at
Gal. 2.13, AV already 'dissimulation', RSV 'insincerity', NEB 'played false like
the rest'; on this example see again below, n. 31. The semantic contours of
'hypocrisy' are not altered by the fact that some instances of the Greek
vmoicpiotc; are not exact equivalents to the full sense of the term.
2. Possibly an even more central position belongs to the article of U.
Wilckens in TWNT, VIII, English TDNT, VIII (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
1972, pp. 559-71), though he does not make exactly all the same points in the
same way. An important older article is that of P. Joiion, TDOKPITHZ dans
1'Evangile et hebreu HANEF, RSR 20, 1930, pp. 312-17. Cf. even earlier
E. Hatch, Essays in Biblical Greek, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1889, pp. 91-
93, and later G. Bornkamm, 'Heuchelei', RGG3, pp. 305ff.; most recently the
fuller treatment on the classical side by B. Zucchelli, TFIOKPITHZ
(Pubblicazioni dell' Istituto di Filologia Classica dell' Universita di Geneva,
15), 1962, which, however, is less detailed on the biblical and Jewish side, and
excessively dependent, as it appears, on the work of W. Beilner, Christus und
die Pharisaer, Vienna: Herder, 1959.
3. These two points, taken together, have sometimes had the effect of
rendering Jesus' references to hypocrites and hypocrisy something of a
puzzle. I have heard of a scholar who argued that, since there was no real
Hebrew/Aramaic term for this concept, Jesus' frequent use of it was a proof
that his actual language was Greek: not an entirely illogical conclusion!
4. Kjv had used 'hypocrite' or 'hypocritical' for ^jn in thirteen OT
passages, thus making it into a standard rendering for each one of the
occurrences of this wordJ.B.
5. It is also taken for granted by Strack-Billerbeck, I, p. 388.
6. In one of the few recent systematic studies of the word, R. Knierim in
THAT, I, pp. 597-99, maintains that the basic sense is 'be twisted, perverted;
pervert', apparently on the grounds that Arabic cognates meaning 'have a
twisted foot' and 'turn to the side' display a 'concrete basic meaning', and he
thinks that this sense 'be perverted' can be seen to continue more or less
throughout the usage in biblical Hebrew. This centrality of a concrete
meaning, even where it is well evidenced, seems to the writer a doubtful
principle. I cannot see that these Arabic cognates, even if genuine, make any
meaningful contact with the known Hebrew usage.
7. The important hantf, on the other hand, may very probably be
connected with the Aramaic form of our term, and may derive from it. But
the guidance given by this fact, if it is a fact, is also ambiguous. Wilckens'
statement on his p. 564, n. 25, that 'In Arab, hanif denotes the heathen, esp.
the follower of the religion of Abraham', gives a very misleading impression.
This word 'appears repeatedly in the Qur'an as the name of those who
possess the real and true religion... It is used particularly of Abraham as the
representative of the pure worship of God'; so H.A.R. Gibb and J.H.
Kramers, Shorter Encyclopaedia of Islam, Leiden: Brill, 1953, pp. 132-33.
For a discussion of the difficult problems of this word, see there. If it was
'somehow' (the term used by that article) derived from an Aramaic form
meaning 'godless, heretic, heathen', its actual usage in such a good sense
indicates the complexity of semantic changes possible in such a term.
8. R. Knierim's article (n. 4 above) discusses the situation in biblical
Hebrew but scarcely touches on the question of relations to the 'hypocrisy' of
the New Testament texts, nor does it make anything of the usage of LXX.
9. Even so it remains possible to render as 'evil', 'ungodliness', etc., even
here: thus G. Vermes 'abundant evil', The Dead Sea Scrolls in English,
Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1962, p. 77; nevertheless the context with terms
of deceit remains significant and I prefer to understand as 'hypocrisy' with
P. Wernberg-M011er, The Manual of Discipline, Leiden: Brill, 1957, p. 26
and p. 80 n. 33.
10. Cited in J. Levy, Chalddisches Worterbuch, Leipzig, 1866, p. 303.
11. I quote from the third edition (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1967).
12. Cf. biblical cases as cited by Brockelmann, Lexicon Syriacum, p. 801b,
especially those rendering Hebrew PHJ3 in Jer. 3.8, 10, 11. Though Saqqdr
exists in Syriac, there appears to be no case of its use to render the unoKpiTT]?
of the Greek New Testament.
13. Failure to take account of this important point is a serious fault in the
LXX section of Wilckens' TDNT article, pp. 563f.
14. Wilckens, p. 564, seems to me to offer a quite distorted interpretation
of these facts. 'In rendering îPi by vmoKpvnte the translator undoubtedly did
not have in view a hypocrite who seems to be righteous without actually
being so. Rather unoicpiaic; has for him the character of sin... Nowhere do
words of the stem pn have the sense of dissembling or hypocrisy, and the
LXX keeps faithfully to the meaning... The tinoKpinte is the ungodly man,
the ungodly man is the imoKpvnte' All this seems to me to be plainly wrong.
Because in biblical Hebrew *pn meant not 'hypocrite' but 'ungodly',
therefore the translators when they used vmoKpvniq meant 'ungodly'. But
obviously they did not understand the word in this sense: for them it did
mean 'hypocrite'. Like other elements in the theological dictionaries, the
reflections quoted seem to be of a theologkal-sermonic nature rather than
correct semantic analysis. For another example, cf. the dictum of G.
Bornkamm, loc. cit.: 'Sie [i.e. hypocrisy] ist als Usurpation des gOttlichen
Heils ihrem Wesen nach satanisch'a profound theological synthesis, and
doubtless valid, but remote from the meaning of words in their closer
contexts.
15. On this see Wilckens, ibid., p. 563.
16. Wilckens' presentation of the material concentrates on the situation of
classical Greek, where, he says, the words never had a negative ethical ring,
and Jewish and biblical usage, where they were always negativenot an
untypical strategy in the Kittel dictionary. A more historical approach would
have shown that the Jewish/biblical usage has deep continuities with
developments in Hellenistic Greek: on this cf. Zucchelli, op. cit. It goes
beyond the scope of the present article, however, to enter into questions of
the Greek development in itself.
17. Wilckens, p. 566 n. 38, does consider the possibility that a Jewish
dislike of the theatre and of actors is implied by the negative usage of
'hypocrite'. This is not impossible, but what follows will show why it is both
unnecessary and improbable.
18. Thus Joiion in his concluding sentence, p. 316, expressed the opinion
that both Greek and Hebrew had come to the precise expression of a new
notion, but by quite different paths.
19. Young, IDE; so likewise G. Bornkamm, loc. dt. Hypocrisy arises from
an attitude 'that through outward action conceals the inner reality of the
heart'. Yet the criticism of the Pharisees is not on the ground of their
dishonesty. It is rather 'an objective self-contradiction' (Schniewind).
Bornkamm goes on to explain: 'Sie "ver-messen" sich selbst im Vertrauen
auf ihre eigene Gerechtigkeit (Lk 18.9), und haben vergessen, dass Gott in
das Verborgene schaut'. But what difference does all this make? Does it
mean, really, that the 'hypocrisy' of the Gospels is not a personal moral
failure but a theological error, sincerely maintained? I can't make sense of it
otherwise.
So also, on a simpler level, Efird, loc. dt.: 'hypocrisy' in the NT does not
have the 'limited' meaning of pretending to be something that one is not. It
can denote 'general wickedness or evil, self-righteousness, pretence, or
breach of "contract"'. It isn't pretence, but it is pretence.
20. Thus Joiion explains the 'hypocrisy' language of the New Testament
through 'the legalist and formalist spirit of the religion of Israel, insufficiently
counterbalanced by the inner spirit which is needed in order to give life to
rites and observances'. This way of talking was typical enough of 1930 when
he was writing, but is now unfashionable; and this fact may have contributed
to some of the uncertainties we have been discussing. To interpret
'hypocrisy' as general evildoing or godlessness is to escape from the
unpleasantness of implying criticism of any one religion more than any
other.
21. Why did KJV render as 'dissimulation' here? Did it wish to avoid the
nastiness of attributing to St. Peter and his associates the more unpleasant
characteristic of'hypocrisy'? For the actual behaviour of Peter and the others is, in
fact, very similar in its general characteristics to the behaviour patterns of scribes
and Pharisees who were roundly described as 'hypocrites' in the Gospels.
Since the Galatian letter, and the incident described in it, are earlier than the
writing of the Gospels, one faces the intriguing possibility that 'hypocrisy'
came to the fore as a problem within Christianity, and the consciousness of it
was later passed over on to the Christian perception of Judaism. But this
question goes beyond the bounds of what can be further considered in this
article.
THE DOXOLOGY TO THE PATER NOSTER
WITH A NOTE ON MATTHEW 6.13B
Matthew Black
St Mary's College
St Andrews
The Matthean doxology to the Pater Noster, as it appears in the

Authorised Version (AV), Tor thine is the kingdom, and the power,
and the glory, for ever. Amen' (Mt. 6.13c), has never been seriously
regarded, by the learned doctors of the Christian Church, as having
ever constituted an integral part of the Pater Noster. It is omitted
altogether by the early Fathers, Tertullian, Cyprian, Origen, even in
treatises on prayer, or else it is distinguished carefully, first it would
seem by Irenaeus, as a liturgical appendix (precatio ecclesiae) from
the dominical prayer (verba scripturae}, and this early patristic view
came to be shared by the Reformers.1 Modern scholars take the same
view, pointing out further that the doxology is also omitted in the
oldest Greek manuscripts (N B D etc.), as it is in Luke's version of the
prayer, and attested only in the late Byzantine ecclesiastical
'Received Text' (TR). Moreover, there are variant forms of the text,
with individual variant readings, a longer form (as in the AV=TR) and
a shorter form, as in the Curetonian Syriac, 'For thine is the kingdom
and the glory, for ever and ever, Amen', or in the Old Latin (k), 'For
thine is the power, for ever and ever'.
An important qualification of this traditional view has been made
by the late Professor Joachim Jeremias in his book/libfea, Studien zur
neutestamentlichen Theologie und Zeitgeschichte.2 Jeremias revives
the claim of Adolf Schlatter that the Pater Noster must originally
have had a closing doxology, since all prayers in Palestinian Judaism
of that period always concluded with a doxology, known as the 'seal'
QidtamcL)? Thus Jeremias writes: '... it is in the Palestinian area
quite unthinkable that a prayer should end [as it does in Luke] with
the word "temptation" ... in Judaism it was customary that many

prayers ended with a "seal", a doxology freely formulated ... Thus it
was, without question, the intention of Jesus and the usage of the
oldest congregation that the Pater Noster should conclude with a
"seal", i.e. a doxology freely formulated by the one offering the
prayer' (op. cit., p. 170).
There is no suggestion by Jeremias (or Schlatter) that some form
of the original hdtdmd, presumably used by Jesus, has survived in
any of the later doxologies. Jeremias himself shares the widely held
view that it is the shorter prayer in Luke which has preserved the
oldest format and form of text; the longer and fuller form in Matthew
is a liturgical expansion, although Matthew does offer a more faithful
version of the Semitic original in the petitions he has in common
with Luke (the Q tradition) (p. 160). While the Greek Gentile
Church has preserved the oldest text, 'the Jewish-Christian Church,
coming from a world of rich liturgical treasures and a fuller liturgical
observance of prayer, has elaborated and embellished the Lord's
Prayer' (p. 158). At the same time, 'the possibility that Jesus himself
could have given the Lord's Prayer to his disciples, on different
occasions, in different formata shorter and a longercannot from
the start be ruled out' (p. 159).
While the prayer is discussed in Abba, petition by petition (with an
introduction on the prayer in the early Church), Jeremias confines
his remarks on the doxology to his one point on the hdtdmd. Ernst
Lohmeyer, in his study The Lord's Prayer, devotes a whole chapter
to the doxology, noting parallels from the Old Testament and
Aramaic targum (see further below), and drawing prominent
attention (as do all commentators) to the indebtedness of the
doxology to 1 Chron. 19.10f, the prayer of David as he virtually
inaugurates the Temple his son Solomon is to build, especially the
words 'Thine, O Lord, is the greatness, the power and the glory...';
he writes '1 Chron 29:1 Of. has often been taken as the model of our
doxology' (p. 234; cf. T.W. Manson, in The Sayings of Jesus* p. 171:
'The current form of the doxology in the AV NT... has some points in
common with 1 Chron. 29.1 If). C.G. Montefiore is less vague and
non-committal in his estimate of the indebtedness of the doxology to
the Chronicler, 'The doxology is based on I Chron. xxix II';5 and a
similar view was taken by R.H. Charles, 'I Chron. xxix 11
... appears to be the original source of most of the doxologies of later
times'.6
BLACK The Doxology to the Pater Noster 329
For this and other questions, especially as relating to the doxology

in the early Church, the basic study is still the magisterial
monograph of F.H. Chase, The Lord's Prayer in the Early Church?
where the doxology is studied in the light of New Testament,
patristic, Old Testament and Jewish parallels, but first with reference
to the foundation text, 1 Chron. 29.10-11: 'In 1 Chron xxix. lOf. we
have a point where liturgical streams which afterwards flowed widely
apart are united. The passage runs thus in the LXX.: [10] euAxyyriToc;
el, Kupie 6 Geoc; TapcniA, 6 naifip fjucov cmo TOU aicavo? Kai eco<; TOU
aiwvoc; [11] au (so Cod. B; Cod. A aoi: Hebr. î), Kupie, f)
laeyaAxoauvri Kai f| 6uva|au; Kai TO Kauxwa K<*i rj VIKTI Kai f) iaxu<;.
Chase then goes on to distinguish two different types of doxologies,
the/z'rsf hebraistic, after the pattern of 1 Chron. 29.10b, beginning
with the word 'Blessed', a form frequent in the Old Testament,
especially in the Psalms, but also found in the New Testament at Lk.
1.68; 2 Cor. 1.3; 11.31; Rom. 1.25; 9.5; Eph. 1.3; 1 Pet. 1.3, in the
worship of the Temple (reference is made to examples cited in
Johannes Lightfoot's Horae Hebraicae on Matt. 6.13), and very
common in Jewish Prayer Books.
The second type of doxology, modelled on 1 Chron. 29.11 (but also
to be compared with Pss. 28.1; 95.7; 103.31; 1 Chron. 16.27),
beginning with aoi Kupie, f| |aeyaXioauvr|..., is 'of the kind familiar to
us in connexion with the Lord's Prayer'. This type of doxology is
'very common in the New Testament', and Chase draws attention to
the list of such passages collected (and commented on) by Westcott
(Hebrews, pp. 464f): Gal. 1.5; Rom. 11.36; 16.27; Phil. 4.20; Eph.
3.21; 1 Tim. 1.17; 6.16; 2 Tim. 4.18; Heb. 13.21; 1 Pet. 4.11; 5.11; 2
Pet. 3.18; Jude 25; Rev. 1.6; 5.13; 7.12. 'Outside the Apostolic
writings, it is very frequently found, its exact form varying, in the
liturgical portions of the Didache, of Clement's Epistle, of the
Martyrdom of Polycarp.The phenomena are all explained if we
suppose that the liturgical usage passed over from the Synagogues of
the Hellenistic Jews into those of the Christian "Brethren"' (Chase,
p. 169).
In an analysis of the New Testament instances, together with those
in the Didache and in what Westcott called 'the remarkable series' in
the Epistle of Clement, Chase notes that the simplest form is aoi (<>/
auT<) eariv fj 86a ei? TOUC; aioava? (TGJV aicovcov) ('A|af|v). While
each of the elements in this form admits of variations, the bracketed
variations 'are of no great importance' (p. 170). This simplest form
occurs at Gal. 1.5; Rom. 11.36; 2 Tim. 4.18; Heb. 13.21; Did. 9.2, 3;
10.2, 4; 1 Clem. 32, 38, 43, 45, 50, 58.
It is in the elaboration of the attribute of deity, f] 86^0, by additional
attributes that significant variations occur, and analysis of Chase's
list, supplemented by Westcott's, reveals other forms, one with no
more than two attributes, but all, with one exception, with (f)) 8oa
as a constant element. Nouns underlined come from LXX 1 Chron.
29.11.
1 Pet. 4.11; 5.11;8 Rev. 1.6: f) 8oa Kai TO Kpcrccx;
1 Tim. 1.17: uuf| Kai 8oa
6.16: Tiuf] Kai Kptiro? (without 8oa)
Did. 8.2; 10.5: f] 8uvaui<; Kai fj 86a
9.4: f| 86a Kai f) Suvauu;
1 Clem. 20,61: f) 8oa Kai f| ueYaAxoauvri. In the three cases in the
Didache, f) 8uvaui<; is clearly a translation variant with TO KptiTo<;,
e.g. at Rev. 1.6; 1 Tim. 6.16, both rendering MT mmn at 1 Chron.
29.11.
The third form is a much longer type of doxology, and in the New
Testament is confined to
Jude 25: 86a, ueYaAxoauvri, KpdTO? Kai eôucria
Rev. 5.13: f) euA.oyia Kai f) Ti|af) Kai f] 8oa Kai TO KpdTO<;
7.12: f) euA-oyia Kai f) 86â Kai f] ao({Ha Kai f] euxapiaua Kai
f) Tifaf) Kai f) 8uva|Ji<; Kai fj iaxuq
The longer doxology does not appear in the Didache at all, and
there are two cases only in 1 Clement.
1 Clem. 64: 86a Kai |aeYaAxoouvT|, KptiTOS, Ti|iif|
65 (last chapter): 86a, TIJUTI, KpciTO*; Kai iieYaAxoouvT]
Opovo<; aicovio?. In the longer as in the shorter forms 8oa is a
constituent element.
From this analysis it can be seen that (a) the simplest form of the
doxology, with a single attribute of deity, ooi (<>, auT<>) f) 86a... is
by far the most common type, clearly a popular form, in the New
Testament, the Didache and 1 Clement. In composite forms, with two
or more attributes, (f)) 8oa has become virtually, with one exception
(1 Tim. 6.16), a permanent constitutive element, and in most cases
given priority of place, (b) Attributes of deity in the longer forms not
listed in 1 Chron. 29.11 are generally drawn from other parts of the
Greek Old Testament, e.g. eôuaia at Jude 25 recalls Dan. 4.31
(Theod. = MT), oo<|>ia at Rev. 7.12 is reminiscent of Job 12.13, etc.
The freedom and flexibility of these variations (their order at times

seems purely arbitrary) enable changes to be rung according to
context and occasion (e.g. Jude 25 and 1 Clem. 65 in concluding
verses of Epistles call for such a rhetorical climax).
How are we to explain the source of f) 86a, the prime and
central attribute in the Christian doxologies? The noun 8oa does
appear at 1 Chron. 29.12, rendering Hebrew ni23n in the sense of
'honour' (so NEB) but, along with 'wealth', as a gift of God not an
attribute of deity. The Vulgate and the Peshitta render Hebrew
niNsnn (LXX TO muxTiua), by gloria, NnroKn (so also AV 'glory'), so
that, if these versions read a Greek term 8oa this could be the
source of the term in the Christian doxology. Or (f|) 8oa could have
been imported from LXX Ps. 28.1 eveyKote T<) xupup 8oav Kai
Tiixqv.
A third possibility, however, which gives full weight to the
primary position of (f)) 86a in almost all variant forms of the
doxology, is that this Greek noun comes from a translation, not of
the Hebrew original of 1 Chron. 29.11, but from the Aramaic
Targum of the verse:
Of thee, O Lord, is the greatness/glory (Nrrm niiT "f?n) who hast
created the world by great might (Krai NmnJD)...
Aram. Nmm translates Heb. rfrm (LXX (ieyaAxoouvTi), which is
variously rendered into Greek by (jLeYoAjCoauvri, (jeYoAiOTr|<; or 86a.9
If the Aramaic Targum is the source of (f|) 86a in the Pater Noster
doxologies, then 86a, fieyaAxoauvTi at Jude 25 would represent two
translation equivalents of Nnm, and the short form f) 86a Kai f)
Suvaiaicj/TO Kpatoc; would correspond to Pesh (cf. Targum)
sniDJ... NJTQI. The main conclusion, however, which I would draw
from these observations is that f) 8oa as divine attribute, in
particular in the short form of the doxology with no more than this
one attribute, is to be traced back to an Aramaic Targum, written or
orally transmitted, of 1 Chron. 29.11 a. The liturgical streams which
flow from 1 Chron. 29.10-11 are then, first, a Hebraistic/Aramaic
Judaic tradition, and second, an Aramaic/Greek Christian tradition.
Lohmeyer, in his study of the doxology, detected a similar
linguistic feature, which he attributed to Aramaic liturgical influence
as attested in the Targum. Aramaic doxologies put the address to
God in the genitive, whereas all later and even contemporaneous
primitive Church doxologies follow the ooi of 1 Chron. 29.11 and
place it in the dative (as does also the MT); as noted above, the
Targum here reads 'of thee (l1^) is the glory' for the LXX ooi, KUpie, f)
HeyaAxoouvri... It is this Aramaic form we find in all doxologies of
the Pater Noster, e.g. oou ecrciv f| |3aaiAeia...;'... so we may
assume', Lohmeyer concludes, 'that this derives from an Aramaic-
speaking environment' (op. cit.^ p. 235).
Lohmeyer takes a further step by arguing that Gal. 1.4f. and 2
Tim. 4.18 support the association of the doxology with the last
petition of the prayer, Matt. 6.13a 'lead us not into temptation, but
deliver us from evil/the Evil One'.10 Thus Gal. 1.4 '(Jesus Christ)
who gave himself for our sins to deliver us (onox; eêAjirai finds)
from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and
Father', which immediately continues 'to whom be the glory for ever
and ever. Amen' (RSV). 2 Tim. 4.18 has the same sequence: 'The
Lord will rescue me (puoerai |ue; cf. Matt. 6.13 puaai finac;) from
every evil (and navro<; epyou novripoO), and save me for his
heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory for ever and ever. Amen.' In
addition to this observation of Lohmeyer, the Galatians verse may
even contain an implicit allusion to the Pater Noster and its second
petition in the clause 'according to the will of our God and Father';
and the verbs eêXrirai (eâipeiv) and pueaGai, may be translation
variants of the original Semitic term behind 'deliver', viz., 'ysi (Heb.
hiphil, Aram, haphel). Was the prayer with doxology known to St
Paul, perhaps in the shorter form familiar in his Epistles (see above),
($) ecrciv f| 86a ei<; TOU? aicava? (TCOV aidovcov) ('A|af|v)?
If there was an original Aramaic doxology to close the Pater
Noster, with this shorter form of the hotdmd, it would have read
p r&& E1?!?1? Knm "J^m; and such a short ascription would conform
to the two-stress line which seems to set the pattern for at least some
of the petitions of the prayer when the Greek version is turned back
into Aramaic, e.g.
Additional Note on Matthew 6.13b

The century-old exegetical debate, whether to read at Matt. 6.13b a
neuter abstract noun, 'evil', or a masculine noun 'the Evil One'
(Satan), is still reflected in modern exegesis and translation (e.g. RSV
'from evil', mg.'the evil one', NEB 'from the evil one', mg.'from evil');
and exegetes and translators now, as in the patristic period, are just
about as evenly divided as these two modern versions. If Lohmeyer is
right about Gal. 1.4f.; 2 Tim. 4.18, then Paul seems to favour the
neuter noun, or at least, to interpret dno rou novrjpoO in these letters
of 'the evil age', 'evil work(s)', not 'the Evil One'.
One reason given for rejecting the masculine, 'the Evil One', is
that this term or designation for Satan is, outside the New Testament
and dependent patristic writings, nowhere attested in classical,
Hellenistic, or Jewish Greek sources. In the monumental and
invaluable Concordance Grecque des Pseudepigraphes d'Ancien
Testament of Pere Albert-Marie Denis (Louvain, 1987), no single
instance of 6 novrip6<; in this sense is cited; an apparent exception
occurs in inferior manuscripts of the Testament of Job 7.1, but this is
almost certainly a correction of Socavas, the usual term in the
Testament, introduced by a Christian redactor.12
The situation is no different when we turn to Hebrew or Aramaic
sources, which have their own distinctive terms for the devil, 'Belial',
'BeelzebuF, 'Mastema', etc., not to mention 'Satan' itself (Greek 6
8iti,poAo<;, 'the slanderer', a noun based on one of Satan's classic
roles). Dalman rendered 6 novripo? in the Pater Noster back into
Heb. inn, Aram. NETS, but stated that'The designation "the Evil One"
(der Bose) for Satan never appears in Jewish literature (Heb. hd-rdy.
He went on to note, however, that, in rabbinical sources, Sammael,
the Tempter, Accuser and angel of death, is described as 'the most
evil' (y&n) of the satans, and that R. Joshua ben Hananiah can apply
the same adjective to the Serpent. He also noted the gloss on Aram.
Nunjn in the Targum of Isa. 11.4 where 'the Evil/Ungodly One' is
identified with Armilos (Romulus?), a kind of Antichrist.13 The
position has not, to the best of my knowledge, changed since
Dalman; Harder writes of 6 novT]p6<; as 'the Evil One': 'This is a
distinctive NT usage for which no model has been found in the world
into which Christianity came'.14
Some fresh evidence has come to light in the so-called Melchizedeq
and MelchiresV fragments from Cave 4 at Qumran, edited by J.T.
Milik and, more recently, by Paul J. Kobelski, and dated by Milik in the
second and first centuries BCE.15 The relevant batch of fragments

consists of (1) an Aramaic text, 4Q Amram, so designated by Milik
from its scroll tide 'The Visions of Amram'.16 The fragmentary text
contains a number of dream-visions, comparable to the Daniel or
Enoch dream-visions, given to Amram, grandson of Levi and father of
Moses and Aaron, and recounted by him, on his deathbed, to his
sons. (2) Hebrew liturgical comminations for recital at 'Assemblies of
the Community' and similar to those at 1QS 2.4bf., designated
4Q280.2 and 4Q286 10 ii 1-13 (with an overlap in certain verses with
4Q287). It is at 4Q286 5 that we find the Hebrew jrenn used as a
proper name to describe Satan or Belial, in a text that is closely
related to the 4Q MelchiresV texts at 4Q Amram, and 4Q280 2.
These texts not only supply an exact Hebrew equivalent of the Greek
for the devil, but they also illustrate and fill out the Aramaic and
Hebrew background of this classic New Testament term.
(1) 4Q Amramb frg. 1.9-15 is an account of one of Amram's dreams in
which he has a vision of extra-terrestrial beings, almost certainly
correctly identified by Milik, in his reconstructed text, with Watchers
(DTP), also as in Daniel's and Enoch's dream-visions.17 Two such
Watchers are represented as contending for Amram's allegiance, Tor
possession of him, body and soul' (Milik). In response to Amram's
question, who these two are who are seeking such authority over
him, they reply that 'their authority is over all mankind', and they
then ask Amram, 'By which of us do you choose to be ruled?' At this
point Amram, looking up, sees one of the two, 'of terrifying aspect,
like a serpent (Kobelski 'asp', Milik 'dragon'), his garments of
deepest, darkest hue ... and his features those of a viper' (lines 13-
14). In frg. 2.4-6 this picture is further filled out by a statement
attributed to the second Watcher, revealing finally the identity of
both Amram's visitors, that while he himself'rules over all light' (line
6), his antitype 'rules over all darkness' (line 5), and 'all his works are
darkness' (line 4). We have undoubtedly to do with Satan (Milik) or
Belial (Kobelski), the 'Angel of Darkness', and Michael, the 'Angel of
Light'.18
It is in the very broken text of 4Q Amramb frg. 2.3 that the name
MelchiresV, 'Prince of Evil', occurs. All that is intelligibly decipherable,
however, in 2.2 are words which Milik has suggested should be read,
with bracketed supplements, as'... this [Watcher] who is he? And he
says to me, "This [Watcher] is ... [and his three names are]... and
MelchireSa'".' The speaker is the Angel of Light, and MelchiresV is
the last name of a triple appellation given by him to the Angel of

Darkness. The supplement 'and his three names are' is supplied on
the basis of frg. 3.2 read by Milik '[And he (i.e. the Angel of Light)
answers and says to me: My] three names are ... [ ...]'. Milik
comments, 'Au nom de vvn "O^D le seul qui apparait dans notre texte
lacuneux de 4Q Amramb (fr. 2.31) doit forcement correspondre le
nom de p*rc "O^D'.19 Kobelski takes the reconstruction of the text a
stage further by reading at 3.2 '[... and he (the Prince of Light)
answered and said] to me: [My] three names are [Michael, Prince of
Light, and Melchizedek']; and at 2.3 '[and these are his three names:
Belial, Prince of Darkness], and MelchireSa".20
While this attractive reconstruction of the fragmented text of 4Q
Amramb is necessarily conjectural, what is not subject to conjecture
is the identity of the grim figure described in lurid detail in frg. 1 as
Satan or Belial, the 'Angel of Darkness', while the other Watcher is
also unmistakably the Archangel Michael, the Angel of Light, the
former here also named MelchiresV, 'Prince of Evil'; the latter, if not
named in the extant text, almost certainly appeared in the original as
Melchiedeq, the 'Prince of Right(eousness)', the mysterious figure
in the Abraham story at Gen. 14.18, reappearing at Ps. 110.4, in the
New Testament at Heb. 5.6 (etc.), in patristic sources,21 and now in
the Qumran scrolls.22
(2) MelchireSa' reappears at 4Q280.2 in a Hebrew liturgical
commination of Belial-MelchireSa', side by side with which Kobelski
publishes the extended parallel Berakhah from the Manual of
Discipline, 1QS 2.4b-9, 15-17, 25b-26.23 Thus 4Q280.2221 begins
'Accursed be thou, MelchireSa', etc.', parallel to 'Accursed be thou
(lot of Belial), etc.' at 1QS 2.5. Here it is abundantly clear that
MelchiresV is simply another designation for Belial or Satan.
It is in the second lot of fragments at 4Q286(287) 10 ii 1-13, also a
commination of Belial (line 2 'Accursed be Belial...'), that at line 5
we read:
Accursed be the Evil/Ungodly One ([r]tsnn)
[in all the times of] his dominion,
and maligned be all the sons of Belial in all the iniquities of their
offices, unto their extermination for ever. Amen, Amen.
Milik (who restored the bracketed words) has the following note: 'La
denomination ircnn, 'L'Impie' par excellence, correspond fort bien a
yvr\ "Oto dans la malediction parallele de 4Q280.2 2'; une paraphrase
de Melki-resV, encore plus poussee, est nrszn rfttyDB 1B> dans 1QM
XVII, 5-6'.24 In its context, however, following the execration of

Belial, and the mention in the parallel line of the 'sons of Belial', the
expression 'the Evil/Ungodly One' is simply here a synonym for
Belial as well as for MelchiresV, though it may be from this title that
it has been derived. Milik's rendering 'L'Impie' corresponds to a
meaning prominent in the Targum for Aramaic wtsn. The Hebrew
noun is more frequently rendered in the LXX by daeprjs than by
novripo?, which occurs only rarely, e.g. 2 Kgdms 4.11; Isa. 53.9 (both
of 'evil men').
As we have seen, the legendary Armilos is named in a gloss
identifying the wtn (Heb. ran) in the Targum of Isa. 11.4, where
Armilos appears as a kind of Antichrist. It has been suggested that
MelchireSa' also 'occupies a position resembling that of Antichrist'.25
Was it in this role that the term 'the Evil/Ungodly One', as well as
MelchireSa', 'the Prince of Evil', came to be employed?
So far as our knowledge goes, these two sets of texts, 4Q Amramb,
4Q280,286 (287) and the Targum of Isa. 11.4 are the only passages in
Jewish literature where the designations i?Bnn/WEn are used for
Satan or a manifestation of Satan. The designation, however, seems
almost an inevitable one for the Prince of Darkness, so that it may
well have been in more frequent use in Judaism than its extremely
rare occurrence suggests. Was it perhaps dropped by the Synagogue
when it was adopted by the early Church, in its almost literal Greek
equivalent 6 novripo?? Such a term would no doubt commend itself
widely as a general concept, immediately intelligible in the Hellenistic
world, whereas the Hebrew/Aramaic terminology for Satan must
have sounded strange and foreign in Greek ears.
NOTES
1. See Wetstein, Novum Testamentutn Graecum, I, p. 326, for patristic

evidence and the views of the Reformers.
2. Gottingen, 1966; see 'Das Vater-Unser im Lichte der neueren
Forschung', pp. 152-71. So far as I am aware there has been no significant
study of the doxology since Jeremias's and Ernst Lohmeyer's The Lord's
Prayer, London, 1965, pp. 230-46.
3. Das Evangelium Matthaus, Stuttgart, 1929, repr. 1963, p. 217; cf. also
I. Elbogen, Derjudische Gottesdienst in seiner geschichtlichen Entwicklung?
Frankfurt, 1931, repr. Hildesheim, 1962, pp. 249.
4. London, 1949.
5. Rabbinic Literature and Gospel Teachings, New York, 1970, p. 134. He

quotes the full verse, 'Thine, O Lord, is the greatness and the power and the
glory and the victory and the majesty;... thine is the kingdom, O Lord, and
thou art exalted as head above all', adding, with a reference to the Authorised
Daily Prayer Book [e.g. Singer's Prayer Book, 14th edn, London, 1929,
pp. 33,44] that these words occur in the daily liturgy of all rites, and noting
further that 'S[track-]B[illerbeck] observe that the doxological application of
the divine kingship was already customary during the existence of the second
temple. At present, at the recital of the Shema, after the invocation, "Hear,
O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One", the same words as used then
are still repeated today, "Blessed be the name of the glory of his Kingdom for
ever and ever"'.
6. The Revelation of St. John (ICC), Edinburgh, 1920, p. 17.
7. Cambridge Texts and Studies, vol. 1, 1891, pp. 168f.
8. Reading f| 86a xai TO Kpcrccx; as at 4.11 with N and the Majority Text.
If, with editors, we omit fj 86a KCU we are left with a short doxology with the
one noun only TO Kpcaoq, for which there is no parallel elsewhere, but cf. Ps.
Sol. 17.3. Has f| 86a icat been omitted by the author for stylistic reasons
because of the previous 86av?
9. Cf. Ps. 145(144).3 LXX rfj? ueyaAxoauvn?, Targ. (cf. Pesh.) nnm; Dan.
7.27 (cf. Pesh.) NTim, LXX if)v ueyaAEiornTa, Theod. i\ neyaXcoouvTi, the
usual Theod. rendering also at 4.22 (MT 19); 5.18 (no exact LXX equivalent in
either verse). At 4.33 (LXX 36) LXX renders m by fj 66a (jou, Theod.
laeyaXxoauvTi, Pesh. Nnm. Cf. also 1 Enoch 22.14, End 1 xi 2 frg. b Nnm
standing for Nnm KID, where the Greek gives the equivalent Kupio? Tffc
oofris; see further J.T. Milik, The Books of Enoch, Oxford, 1976, p. 218; M.
Black, The Book of Enoch or I Enoch, Leiden, 1985, pp. 168, 341. As noted,
the Targum reading is shared by the Peshitta, where the word has the same
ambiguity, but it seems remotely unlikely that a Syriac Old Testament could
have influenced the New Testament doxology; all that the Syriac version of 1
Chron. 29.11 does is to confirm the Semitic origin of the Christian
doxology.
10. See Additional Note at the end of this paper.
11. Cf. Lohmeyer, The Lord's Prayer, pp. 27f.; Burney, The Poetry of Our
Lord, p. 115; Jeremias, Abba, p. 160.
12. The nearest equivalent to 6 noviipo? for Satan noted in the Lexica is
novripo^ 8aiu(ov in Pap. Lips. 34.8.
13. Die Worte Jesu, Leipzig, 1930, pp. 350f., especially p. 351 foot. (The
long Appendix on Das Vaterunser has not been translated and included in the
English edition of The Words of Jesus, Edinburgh, 1902.)
14. TDNT, pp. 558f. Cf. further pp. 549.15f.; 550.30 and 552.13f. where
Harder adds to Dalman's rabbinical usage of VVn the opinion of R. Joshua
that at Job 9.24 yvn refers to Satan. See also now Bauer-Aland, Worterbuch
zum Neuen Testament, 6th edn, p. 1386.
15. 'Milki-sedeq et Milki-rea' dans les anciens ecrits juifs et Chretiens',

JJS 24 (1972), pp. 95-144. See also Emil Schiirer, The History of the Jewish
People in the Age of Jesus Christ, II, revised and edited by Geza Vermes,
Fergus Millar and Matthew Black, Edinburgh, 1979, p. 526; cf. pp. 553, 4;
PJ. Kobelski, Melchizedek and Melchiresa' (CBQMS, 10), Washington,
1981. See also F. Garcia Martinez, '4 Amram B 1.14, Melki-reSa' o
Melchisedeq?', RQ 12 (1985), pp. 111-14.
16. J. Milik, '4Q Visions de 'Amram et une citation d'Origene', RB 79
(1972),pp.77f.
17. Milik, '4Q Vision de 'Amram', pp. 79f.; 'Milki-sedeq et Milki-reSa",
pp. 126f.; Kobelski, pp. 26f.
18. Cf. 1QS 3.20f.; Y. Yadin, The War of the Sons of Light with the Sons of
Darkness, Oxford, 1962, pp. 235f.; Milik, '4Q Visions de 'Amram', pp. 85f;
Kobelski, pp. 28, 83.
19. '4Q Visions de 'Amram', p. 85.
20. Op. cit., pp. 27f, 33 (top).
21. Cf., especially, Origen's notices (reported by Eusebius), undoubtedly
of the Amram apocalypse and of Melchisedeq; see Milik, *4Q Visions de
'Amram', pp. 85f., 93; Kobelski, pp. 75f.
22. For an up-to-date discussion of Melchisedeq in the Qumran texts,
consult Kobelski.
23. Texts etc. in Kobelski, pp. 37f.; Milik, 'Melki-sedeq et Melki-rea",
pp. 126f.
24. 'Melki-sedeq et Melki-resa", p. 132.
25. Schiirer, op. cit., II, p. 526.
THE TESTAMENT OF SIMEON PETER
A.E. Harvey
Westminster Abbey
London
Not the least of the influences that St Paul exercised on the

development of early Christianity was in the matter of literary form.
Paul's letters were real letters, in the sense that they were for the
most part written at a particular moment to particular recipients.
But they were also very remarkable letters, in that, quite apart from
their religious content, they showed a literary quality and stylistic
elaboration that (with the possible exception of Philemon and
doubtless other short pieces that have not survived) put them in a
different class from the products of routine letter-writing and caused
them to take their place alongside the work of literary menthose
who either wrote genuine letters to their friends with an eye to
publication (Cicero, Seneca) or else used the letter form as a vehicle
for teaching or as a means of elaborating the doctrine of a revered
master (Plato, Epicurus, the authors of the 'Cynic Epistles'). The effect
was to ensure that virtually all subsequent Christian attempts at religious
exhortation and instruction in the New Testament and sub-apostolic
periods followed Paul's example and adopted the epistolary form.
But the degree to which early Christian writers were guided or
constrained by this model varied considerably. The authors of the
deutero-Paulines had little choice; for their work to pass plausibly
under the name of their master it had necessarily to follow the same
formroughly: greeting, prayer, argumentation, moral exhortation,
valediction. Ignatius also, finding himself in a situation not unlike
that of Paul, adopted a similar form for what he had to impart. But,
for the rest, only 1 Peter, 1 Clement and Barnabas have all the
elements of a Pauline letter. The others (apart from 2 and 3 John,
which have few literary pretensions in any case) are missing either
the opening greeting (Hebrews) or the closing valediction (James,
Diognetus} or both (1 John, the seven 'letters' of Revelation, 2 Peter,
Jude and 2 Clement). Moreover the content of these vestigially
epistolary writings is formally different. Hebrews, Barnabas, 1
Clement (and to a much lesser extent James) all include substantial
passages of biblical exposition and argumentation; but 1 John, 2
Peter, Jude and Diognetus virtually never quote the Old Testament;
instead they use stock examples from the biblical narrative (or from
apocryphal tradition) to drive home their teaching.
Clearly then these writers found in Paul's letters (which at least
two of themthe author of 2 Peter and 1 Clementcertainly knew)
only limited guidance and inspiration.1 So we may ask: what other
models were available to them to follow? Their task, it appears, was
to strengthen Christian congregations in their faith against the
insidious influence of backsliders, deviationists and compromisers,
and to exhort them to high standards of moral conduct and
perseverance. What precedents were there for them to follow? It is
perhaps because this question is so seldom asked2 that the obvious
answer is generally overlooked. There were indeed models ready to
hand. The models were in the language (Greek) used by the
Christians themselves; they were produced for a purpose very
similarto strengthen faith and morals; and their characteristic
ideas and arguments were of a cultural and religious generality that
made them highly suitable for Christian purposes. I refer of course to
the Jewish literature written in Greek between (roughly) 100 BCE
and 100 CE.
This considerable body of literature took a number of forms. Some
texts (such as the work of Josephus) deliberately followed a pagan
model so as to compete in the book trade of the Greek-speaking
world. Some (such as Pseudo-Phocylides) were self-consciously
learned, essays in the style of some classical author intended to show
that Jewish wisdom had always been the inspiration of even the
greatest of Greek poets and philosophers. But some worked within a
distinctively Jewish form, through which they gave expression to
characteristic monotheistic principles and moral attitudes, referring
when appropriate to certain well-known episodes from the Jewish
scriptures, but avoiding reference to specific observances such as
circumcision and dietary laws, and with a general cultural assimilation
to the moral and philosophical currency of a cosmopolitan society
which must have made them easily readable by non-Jews. A popular
HARVEY The Testament of Simeon Peter 341
example of this literature was the Testament'. The attraction of this

form (apart from the divine sanction which it appeared to receive
from Gen. 18.19) was the device it offered for claiming authority for
moral and religious teaching. Such a form adopted the virtually
universal perception that the 'last words' of a great man are
particularly important to attend to. It is on his death-bed that a
leader or teacher is likely to gather the fruits of a life-time's reflection
and (having now nothing to lose) pass on his wisdom with the
greatest candour and directness to his family, his followers or his
pupils. Such 'last words' have of course inspired innumerable great
passages of literature from Homer to Shakespeare. Both Socrates and
Jesus very soon had 'final discourses' attributed to them. But it seems
to have been only in the Jewish world that they developed into an
independent literary form and became, indeed, exceedingly popular.
Apart from the Testaments of the XII Patriarchs themselves,
fragmentary Hebrew and Aramaic texts of similar 'testaments'
survive in the Cairo Genizah and at Qumran;3 a learned Jew
composed one in archaic hexameters in order to show that Orpheus
could be credited with an advanced type of monotheism;4 and the
strength of Christian interest is evident from the history of the text of
the Testaments. The form was revived in the twelfth century as a
vehicle for Jewish instruction5 and remains popular to the present
day.6 And not only among Jews. It will not be necessary for our
purposes to take a position in the debate about the extent of Jewish or
Christian editing or interpolation in Test. XII.7 The important point
is generally agreed: a Christian writer had at least some part in the
recension at quite an early stage. This unknown editor or interpolator
must have been a Christian who saw the possibilities of this literary
form for use in similar circumstances in the church. Should we not
expect to find traces of the same interest already in the New
Testament?
II
Jude and 2 Peter are two ostensibly independent New Testament
writings that are related to each other in a singular way. They have a
number of themes in common:
fallen angels (Jude 6; 2 Pet. 2.4)
stock biblical examples: Sodom and Gomorrah (Jude 7; 2 Pet. 2.6);
Balaam (Jude 11; 2 Pet. 2.15); 2 Peter adds Noah (2.5); Jude adds
Cain and Korah (11)
angels do not blaspheme (Jude 9; 2 Pet. 2.11; Jude names the

archangel Michael)
similar analogies from nature (waterless clouds, Jude 12; waterless
springs, 2 Pet. 2.17)
reference to apostles as authorities (Jude 17; 2 Pet. 3.15, naming
Paul)
Moreover they share a fair quantity of unusual words or phraseology
and express a number of ideas in a verbally similar way. Students of
the New Testament are of course used to such 'literary' relationships.
It is a fundamental presupposition of most synoptic research that the
authors of Matthew and Luke had some version of Mark actually on
their writing desks. The author of Ephesians is usually assumed to
have 'known' Colossians. Some form of literary dependence seems
the most likely explanation of the strange 'doublets' in 1 and 2
Thessalonians. But this very familiarity with instances of alleged
literary dependence has not helped the study of Jude and 2 Peter.
Assuming that one must be 'dependent' on the other, scholars have
concentrated on such questions as which was written first and which
is a re-working of the other; and most are agreed that 2 Peter is more
likely to be an expansion of Jude than Jude an abridgment of 2
Peter. But in fact the premise on which these arguments are based is
not so obvious as it seems. The similarity between the two epistles is
of a quite different character from that between other New
Testament writings. It is not the case (as it is in the synoptics or
certain Pauline epistles) that complete phrases re-appear verbatim in
such a way that the author of one must have had the other before his
eyes. What we have here is a pair of writings that are addressed to
similar situations, discuss similar topics, use almost the same
standard illustrations and employ similar vocabulary and phraseology.
But in no case is there a verbatim repetition of a whole phrase or
sentence, such as would be required to prove 'literary dependence'.
Rather, in each case where the same thing is being said in similar
words one of the two passages invariably uses a variation of the
vocabulary, grammatical structure or phraseology used by the other.
Of course this could be a case of literary dependence: one author may
have had the work of the other before him and deliberately
introduced these changes wherever he wished to say the same thing.
But this is not the only possible explanation. The two authors may
have been in close association, using (as we shall see) the same
models and expressing themselves in similar ways; or the two 'letters'

could be the work of a single author who was moved to compose two
essays on much the same theme using similar literary resources.
There is no need to decide between these possibilities. The important
point gained is that we are not compelled to assume that one is a re-
working of the other. It is open to us to regard them as two separate
examples of a style of writing and composition not found elsewhere
in the New Testament.
What is this style? All the commentators have noticed that the
Greek is (for the New Testament) unusually sophisticated. It
abounds in abstract nouns and relatively rare words. A former
generation of scholars compared it with classical Greek and found it
(despite its evident literary pretensions) seriously wanting. They
would have done better to compare it with hellenistic Jewish
literature, which has many of the same characteristics. In particular,
there is a number of points of contact with Test. XII:
the content and purpose are similar: moral exhortation and
prophetic warning
biblical examples are used in the same way, seldom with a direct
quotation, but rather by referring to a well-known person or
episide: Sodom (2 Pet. 2.6; Jude 7) is a favourite in Test. XII, Cain
(Jude 11) is also mentioned
references to the 'rebellious angels' occur in Jude 6-7,2 Pet. 2.4 and
T. Napht. 38
a key term in Jude and 2 Peter, 'impiety' (doepeux, daef^,
doe Pew) occurs infrequently elsewhere in the N.T. but is a
favourite in Test. XII9
certain words in Jude and 2 Peter that are rare or hapax legomena
in the N.T. occur also in Test. XII10
Test. XII, for prophecies about the future, rely frequently on 'the
writings of Enoch'. This is also the one non-biblical and pre-
Christian authority referred to in Jude (14) and alluded to in 2
Peter (2.4; 3.6)
Again, none of this need imply any direct literary relationship. The
similarities are not such that the author or authors of Jude and 2
Peter must have had a copy of Test. XII on their writing table. But
equally there can be little doubt that Test. XII are evidence for a
literary milieu that provided these Christian authors with the style,
the examples, and much of the vocabulary with which to address a

similar situation in the church. The author and the readers of Test.
XII have been well described as 'middle-class Jews in Hellenistic
areas, convinced of the central tenets of the Jewish faith and with an
intense concern to lead a good life'; they constitute a witness to 'an
early Jewish lay piety'.11 Mutatis mutandis, the same description
serves well for Jude and 2 Peter. Apart from a few specifically
ecclesiastical matters, their main concern is the threat to faith and
morals presented by certain factions within the church. Like all other
NT letters (except Paul's) they have a tantalizing vagueness and
generality in their description of these deviant co-religionists: we are
quite unable to discern exactly what they believed or what they were
doing in the church at all. Unlike Paul, these writers made no attempt
to answer their opponents' arguments or to deepen Christian
understanding by learning from their supposed perversions of it.
Instead they concentrated on pillorying the moral and religious
depravity of the deviants (allowing themselves, we may suppose,
some liberty to exaggerate) and warning the faithful of the dangers of
yielding to any such temptation and of the severe judgement that
God would inevitably pass on the deviants. For this purpose Test. XII
offered them precisely the resources they needed. These Jewish
writings, with their general moral appeal, their widely-shared Stoic
ethic,12 their straightforward and vivid illustrations from scripture
and their concern for the basic principles of monotheism rather than
specifically Jewish observances, had many passages that would have
served as literary models for the task our Christian author or authors
had in hand. These resources would have absolved them from
making more than vestigial use of the epistolary form that had been
established by Paul.
Ill
But may not Test. XIIhave contributed more than this? May not the
convention of 'last words', giving special authenticity to moral and
religious teaching, have been attractive to a Christian writer? We
know that Test. XII themselves were soon to become popular in
Christian circles. May they not have seemed to offer just the model
that was needed by an early Christian writer seeking to exhort his
fellow-Christians to purity of faith and morals?
A number of commentators on 2 Peter appear to have recognized
has seen any significance in this simple observation or used it to

throw light on the composition of the epistle.13 They have noticed the
fictitious author's statement that he is shortly to die, and that this
gives the letter a 'testament' character; but there are other equally
striking borrowings from the convention that seem to have been
generally passed over:
(a) The fictitious author is called 'Simeon Peter' (1.1). This is the
only time in the New Testament that he is given the Jewish form of
the name (instead of'Simon'), apart from one reference by James in
Acts (15.14). What lies behind this unusual departure from the
Greek form of the name in a writing that otherwise uses such a
sophisticated Greek vocabulary? This is not merely a matter of
linguistic variation. 'Simeon' was not a particularly propitious name.
In Genesis 49.5-7 Simeon, along with Levi, is described as one who
resorts to weapons of violence and is prone to anger; and he was a
chief instigator of a shameful act of deception which resulted in a
massacre in Shechem (Gen. 34). It has not been sufficiently noticed14
that a number of prominent Jews who bore the name in hellenistic
and Roman times preferred to be called by their patronymics (e.g.
Bar Kochba) and indeed were often known by some other more or
less programmatic name in place of Simeon or Simon; and similarly
sinister connotations of the name persisted into Christian times,
when Simeon came to be regarded as the ancestor of the scribes who
persecuted Jesus.15 Nevertheless, Luke may have been deliberately
seeking to rehabilitate the name when he made a certain 'just and
devout' Simeon appear on the scene straight after Jesus' circumcision.16
The patriarch Simeon (again with Levi) had deceitfully insisted on
all the men of Shechem being circumcised before putting them to the
sword to avenge the abduction of his sister Dinah (Gen. 34); Luke's
Simeon reversed this deplorable precedent, and made Jesus'
circumcision the occasion to proclaim 'a light to lighten the Gentiles'
(Lk. 2.32). So the next Simeon, though normally called Simon, was
perhaps deliberately placed in the same succession when, in a
discussion whether Gentiles who became Christians should also be
circumcised, he was given credit by James for relating how 'God first
visited the Gentiles to take out of them a people for his name' (Acts
15.14). This at least makes it plausible to think that the author of 2
Peter intended some inference to be drawn from his introducing Peter
as 'Simeon'.
Let us suppose that our author, being familiar with Test. XII,had
resolved to use this 'model' for his message to his fellow-Christians.

Simeon/Simon would have presented an attractive pairing of names.
Like the patriarch, the apostle had used a weapon (Jn 18.10), shown
anger (Mk 14.71) and repented with tears (cf. T. Sim. 2.13); there
also seems to have been a tradition that he was martyred out of
'envy' (1 Clem. 54)the theme of T. Simeon. How better, then, to
alert the reader to the precedent for his 'Testament of Peter' than by
calling him by his Jewish name 'Simeon?
(b) The 'testament' form required, of course, some kind of death-
bed scene: the speaker had to know he was about to die. In the case of
Peter this could have presented difficulties: was he not martyred
suddenly in Rome? But the 'model' provided an answer. Levi was in
good health; but 'it had been revealed to him that he was about to
die' (T. Levi 1.2). So with Peter: the Lord Jesus Christ had revealed17
his imminent death to him (1.14).
(c) The Jewish Testaments followed a regular form, in which a
recollection of some significant episode in the patriarch's own life
provided the cue for teaching and exhortation. 2 Peter followed the
same pattern, and provides us with the only example in the New
Testament of a gospel episode being recalled by one who witnessed it.
The choice of the Transfiguration, out of all the episodes in which
Peter played some part, doubtless commended itself for several
reasons.18 But again, the 'model' would have made it seem particularly
appropriate; both Levi (T. Levi 2.5) and Naphtali (T. Napht. 5.1) had
a vision 'on a mountain', and intimations by heavenly voices (2 Pet.
1.18) had a particular authority.19
Once again, it is not necessary here to assume slavish imitation or
direct literary dependence. But if we return to our original question
and ask what model was available to an author who wished to
address authoritative warnings and exhortations to his readers, it is
evident that familiarity with hellenistic Jewish literature, and
particularly with that form of it of which we have an extended
example in Test. XII (and which we know to have become extremely
popular among Christians and to have inspired a number of
imitations) would have provided him with a number of motifs and a
readily intelligible form.
2 Peter is a Christian writing. Some of the problems it addresses
were similar to those faced by a Jewish community in the diaspora,
and the repertory of hellenistic Jewish exhortation and warning
could be adapted without much difficulty. Others were specific to the
church, and 2 Peter differs from Jude in devoting attention to some of

thesethe need for guidance in the interpretation of prophecy (1.20-
21), the sin of apostasy after conversion (2.21), the difficulty of
understanding some of the letters of Paul (3.16). Are there any
matters in the overlap between these areas of concern that are
illuminated when the 'model' is brought into view?
(a) It is often observed that in Jude the troubles of the church are
referred to in the present tense, but in 2 Peter, though they are
described in similar language, their appearance is expected only in
the future. According to the current consensus (which assumes that
one is a re-working of the other), 2 Peter presupposes Jude and was
therefore written later. How does it happen, then, that the deviants
described in Jude are still awaited in 2 Peter?
To this our model surely provides the answer. The future tense is a
conventional fiction, necessitated by the scenario of a 'testament'. All
of the Test. XIIcontain predictions. Of course, what are predicted are
precisely instances of the kind of immorality and faithlessness which
threatens the readers. It belongs to the form that the dying man
would 'prophesy'; it was of no consequence that the content of the
prophecy contained nothing the readers did not know already.
(b) One of the passages in 2 Peter most frequently referred to by

Christians is that which concerns the 'scoffers' who will say, 'Where
is the promise of hisparowa?' (3.4). The almost universal assumption
is that this passage reflects Christian anxieties about the apparent
delay of the parousia of Christa matter on which a hellenistic
Jewish 'model' could hardly have provided any material. Certainly
the reference to these 'scoffers' seems to accord well with the
assumed crisis that fell upon the church when the expected parousia
of Christ failed to materialize. But there are also problems in this
interpretation. One is the relatively late date that is ascribed to 2
Peter by most commentators: was the 'crisis' really a live issue at the
end of the first century? (And is it not usually supposed that it had
been 'solved' by Luke?) Moreover the author, though he calls on the
witness of the prophets and apostles (and, standing behind them,
Jesus himself) to show that such scoffers were certainly to be
expected, in his answer makes no reference to any Christian teaching
or authority, and simply restates a widely held view that the world,
after its near-destruction through the waters of the Flood, was
moving inexorably towards its final dissolution in fire on the day of

judgment (3.5-7).20
The key to the matter is in 3.8:
One day with the Lord is as a thousand years and a thousand years
as one day.
This is usually taken to mean that God works on an altogether
different time-scale from human beings. For God, a thousand years
pass as quickly as a single day does for us. This is a natural way of
thinking for those brought up in the western philosophical tradition,
according to which God, being eternal, can have little relation to the
days, months and years of human reckoning. But it would have been
a strange thought to everyone in antiquity apart from the most
sophisticated philosophers. Few people expected the world to last for
more than a few thousand years at most.21 Psalm 90.4 appears to be
alluded to here: in the Hebrew it reads, 'a thousand years in thy sight
are but as yesterday'. In the LXX it was taken to mean that for God a
thousand years are equal to one day;22 and no one doubted that the
'day' in question was one of the days of creation.23 Of these there
were six. Six thousand years therefore was the total lifespan of the
world. But they were well on in the fifth thousand already, by the
usual reckoning;24 the sixth thousand could well be the time of the
'new heaven and new earth' (3.13); and who could be sure that God
might not have his reasons for 'shortening the time? Further delay
could only mean that God, in his long-suffering, was allowing more
time for repentance (3.9), though the piety of his elect could perhaps
'hasten the time' (3.12).25
If we now look carefully at v. 8, we are bound to notice that
modern interpreters have jumped rather incautiously to the conclusion
they expected. The first clause, 'one day with the Lord is as a
thousand years', has nothing to do with Psalm 90; nor should we
have expected that it would be a philosophical reflection on the
timelessness of God. It is simply a reference to the standard reading
of Genesis 1, according to which each day represented a thousand
years of subsequent world history. The following clause, with its
apparent allusion to Psalm 90, is evidently added by way of support.
Some manuscripts even omit it,26 recognizing that it is very much in
the manner of a gloss. It is certainly not the clause that bears the
emphasis. The reference, in fact, is in line with the whole paragraph:
it appeals to the Old Testament, not to extract a proof from a
particular text (which, as we have seen, is not in the style of this type
of literature), but to recall well-known facts and events recorded in it:
the creation 'from water through water' (3.5; cf. Gen. 1.2; etc), the
Flood (Gen. 7) and the six days of creation along with their usual
interpretation of one day for each thousand years of world history. It
supplements this (again in the style of Test. XII) with allusion to
standard apocalyptic notions of a final conflagration ushering in the
day of judgement, followed by the destruction of the impious (3.7)
and a new world of justice for the elect (3.13). At least one of these
notions appears to be taken from the non-biblical authority
conventionally referred to by Test. XII, viz. 1 Enoch (3.6).
All of this is exactly what we should expect from a writing that
draws much of its inspiration and most of its stylistic resources from
the literary milieu represented by Test. XII. Admittedly it throws the
Christian reader off the scent by using the phrase 'the promise of his
(or its) appearing' (parousia);but a few lines further on the 'promise
is defined as that of the day of judgment (3.9) and theparowsw as that
of the day of God when the final conflagration will take place
(3.12).27 It is instructive to compare the passage with Paul's
argument in 1 Cor. 15.35ff.28 In both cases the threat is presented by
people who have a broadly 'philosophical' objection to the very idea
of either resurrection or a sudden end to the world. In both, the
objection is supported by a common-sense argument: how could our
'flesh', with all its variety and imperfections, be raised after death (1
Cor. 15.35)? Why should there be an 'end' at all when things have
gone on just the same from the beginning of history (2 Pet. 3.4)? In
both, the answer is derived, not from any distinctive Christian belief,
but from general notions that will have been shared by the readers:
the mysterious continuity between seed and plant and the logical
possibility of different kinds of'flesh' and 'body'; and the assumption,
shared by Jews with the prevailing Stoic philosophy,29 that the
present world will come to an end in fire. In both, the argument is
strengthened by a reference to a well-known factor in Scripture:
Adam, and the six days of creation. Characteristically, Paul quotes
the actual text in order to prove his point by precise exegesis (Adam
was made a 'living soul'; this shows that the 'psychic' precedes the
'spiritual', 1 Cor. 15.45). Equally characteristically, the author of 2
Peter relies simply on a reference to 'one day' to make his point,
adding (unless it is a later gloss) an allusion to Psalm 90 by way of
confirmation. Both, that is to say, in only slightly different idioms,
were meeting the kind of objection to which fundamental Jewish

beliefs were exposed from sceptical pagans;30 and both used
arguments with which their hellenistic Jewish culture furnished
them.
It follows that to introduce into the interpretation of 2 Peter the
assumption that it is a specifically Christian problem that is being
addressedthe delay of the parousiais not only to misunderstand
the argument but also to do violence to the convention which the
author has chosen to follow and the literary style he has adopted; a
work modelled on a Jewish 'testament' would naturally concentrate
on general matters of faith and morals, not on the correct interpretation
of an article of specifically Christian belief. But of course there is one
important difference between the Christian writing and its Jewish
model. The author of Test. XII was unable to quote Scripture: it had
not yet been written in the time of the patriarchs! But there was one
set of writingsthe Enoch literatureto which he could appeal with
some semblance of plausibility.31 Jude and 2 Peter, as we have seen,
adopted the same supplementary source. But 2 Peter could go
further. There were now Christian scriptures to appeal to. As Test.
XII invoked the authority of Enoch, so 2 Peter invoked Paul,
referring to his 'writing' (cf. the 'writing' of Enoch), and actually
quoting a saying that Paul may have derived ultimately from Jesus,
'the day comes like a thief (3.10).32 But there is no discontinuity
here. Just as Enoch, whether or not he was regarded as 'scriptural',
was perceived to be speaking with the authority of one who had a
special revelation of generally accepted truth, so Paul is quoted as
giving his authority to a widely held Jewish view of the present age,
namely that its continuance was due to the 'long-suffering' of God
(3.15).33 Even the analogy of the thief (whether or not it goes back to
Jesus) does no more than emphasize the generally perceived
character of the 'day of the Lord', that it will be sudden. Paul is
brought in not to add any new Christian doctrine but to lend the
authority of his 'writings' to general axioms shared by Jews and
Christians alike.
IV
If it is accepted that this famous passage is not after all concerned
with a supposed 'crisis' in the church caused by the delay of the
parousia, but is an answer to those who were sceptical of any
ultimate denouement in world history (such as was fundamental to

the faith of Jews and Christians alike) and whose moral alertness was
thereby reduced, we may take a fresh look at 2 Peter as a whole and
seek to place it more accurately in the milieu of early Christian and
hellenistic Jewish literature. We have been concerned mainly with
form and style. What about content? We have observed that 2 Peter
shares with its Jewish model a general concern to strengthen faith
and morals, a language for moral attitudes that was common
currency at the time, a total lack of interest in specific religious
observances and a use of Scripture and certain 'writings' that was
broadly illustrative rather than detailed and exegetical. What is there
besides? What is the distinctively Christian content? We have already
listed the small number of references to Christian or ecclesiastical
matters. In addition, we may note a Christian formula in the opening
greeting and the closing salutation; two further references to Jesus
Christ in the first chapter; the alleged 'revelation' of the supposed
author's imminent death by Christ; and his recollection of the
Transfiguration. None of these carries any doctrinal significance.
The opening and closing verses are conventional in the church; 'the
epignosis of our Lord Jesus Christ' is simply a label for describing the
Christian community;34 'entry into the eternal kingdom' would pass
as a Jewish phrase, adopted by the author with the addition of 'our
Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ' (1.11); the 'revelation' of Peter's
sudden death is necessary for the fiction of the 'testament', and the
recollection of the Transfiguration is required to give authenticity to
the 'prophetic word'. That is to say: the 'Testament of Simeon Peter'
is only more 'Christian' than its Jewish model in that it is ascribed to
a Christian apostle of whom the patriarch Simeon was a suggestive
prototype. Shorn of a few adventitious Christian trimmings, it could
pass as a fair specimen of hellenistic Jewish literature.
What does this say about the relationship of the two religions in
the first century or so of Christianity? Geza Vermes, whom both
Christian and Jewish scholars are gladly honouring in this volume,
has helped us to see the common ground shared by Jesus with his
Jewish contemporaries. A comparable extent of common ground
continued to exist between the church and the hellenistic synagogue
in matters of morals and in the general eschatological expectation
which was part of the motivation to moral purity and endeavour.
The fact that a Christian author, late in the New Testament period,
could appropriate the form, the style and even the phraseology of
Hellenistic Jewish literature, and needed to add only a few cosmetic

touches to adapt it for use within the church, is evidence for the early
acknowledgement of agreements in faith and morals that could still
be a fruitful factor in the dialogue between the two faiths today.
NOTES
1. This appears to be the view of J. White in D. Aune (ed.), Greco-Roman

Literature and the New Testament, Atlanta, 1988, p. 101.
2. C. Bigg (A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Epistles of St
Peter and St. Jude [ICC], Edinburgh, 1902, p. 243), having satisfied himself
that 2 Peter is pseudonymous, did go on to ask what model the author might
have been following, but was unable to suggest an answer.
3. H.F.D. Sparks (ed.), The Apocryphal Old Testament, Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1984, pp. 510f; M. Kuchler, Friihjudische Weisheitstraditionen, Freibourg,
1979, pp. 422f. and n. 33: none of these fragments is called a 'testament', but
they clearly have this form, and are independent of Test. XII. For a
discussion of the relationship between these and the Greek Testaments, see
M. de Jonge ANRW 2.20.1, pp. 370-87.
4. A.M. Denis, Fragmenta Pseudepigraphorum,Leiden, 1970, pp. 163-67
(fr. 16 d).
5. Cf. the collection edited by I. Abrahams, Hebrew Ethical Wills,
Philadelphia, 1926.
6. J. Riemer and N. Stampfer (eds.), Ethical Wills: A Modern Jewish
Treasury, New York, 1983.
7. For the state of the question, see E. Schurer, The History of the Jewish
People in the Age of Jesus Christ (ed. Vermes-Millar-Goodman), vol III/2,
Edinburgh, 1982, pp. 770-72.
8. J.B. Mayor called this 'more than a casual coincidence' (Jude & 2
Peter, London 1907, p. civ).
9. Nine out of the seventeen instances of this word-group in the NT occur
in 2 Peter and Jude (cf. W. Grundmann, Der Brief des Judas und der zweite
Brief des Petrus, THKNT, Berlin, 1974, p. 6). It occurs 17 times in Test.
XII.
10. unepOYKa (2 Pet. 2.18; Jude 16; T. Asher 2.8); uiaaud? (2 Pet. 2.10; T.
Levi 17.8; T. Benj. 8.23); artipiyuo? (2 Pet. 3.17; T. Jud. 15.3, 6 arTipiyua).
The use of niau? in 1.1, which is rightly seen to be unusual in Christian
writing by E. Ka'semann (see n. 26 below) is similar to that in T. Asher
7.7.
11. M. Kiichler, op. cit., pp. 533f.
12. H. Kee, 'Ethical Dimensions in Test XII', NTS24 (1978), pp. 259-
70.
13. A number of writers recognize that 2 Peter is a kind of'Testament': J.
Munck, Aux sources de la tradition chretienne, FS M. Goguel, Paris, 1950,

pp. 161f.; C. Spicq, Les Epitres de St Pierre, Paris, 1965, p. 194 n. 2; T.
Fornberg, An Early Church in a Pluralistic Society, Lund, 1977; but I have
seen no study which justifies R. Bauckham's judgment that the implications
of this 'are beginning to be explored' (ANRW 2.25.5, p. 3715).
14. C. Roth, 'Simon-Peter', HTR 54 (1961), pp. 91-7, drew attention to
this, but the point has not been followed up. It was noticed by A.P. Stanley
(Lectures on the History of the Jewish Church, London, 1883, vol 3, p. 378),
quoted by W. Farmer, Maccabees, Zealots and Josephus, New York, 1956,
p. 28, that 'the famous apostolic names... [John, Judas, Matthias or
Mattathias] were inherited from the enduring interest in the Maccabean
family'. Yet for some reason the name Simon (or Simeon) was frequently
omitted in favour of the patronymic.
15. Hippolytus, Ben. Jac. 14 (TU 38,1912, p. 29); fr. 9 in Gen.; Tertullian,
Adv. Marc. 3.18; Adv. Jud. 10.
16. 2.25ff. Cf. J.D.M. Derrett, Downside Review 106 (1988), p. 276.
17. Scholars who refer this 'revelation' to John 21.18f.; Acta Petri 35; Acta
Petri et Pauli 8If., seem to ignore TQXIVTI.
18. J. Neyrey, 'The Apologetic Use of the Transfiguration in 2 Peter 1.16-
21', CBQ 42 (1980), pp. 504-19, argues that the Transfiguration was cited (as
in certain second-century writings) as prophetic of the Parousia, but admits
that the text of 2 Peter itself offers no clear evidence of this.
19. A number of smaller details could also suggest some recollection of
Test. XII. False prophets (2.1) appear in T. Jud. 21.9. nAsove^ta (2.3,14) is a
favourite topic in Test. XII, where the word occurs seven times. The catena
in 1.5-7, though a hellenistic rhetorical form, is made up of terms all but one
of which occur in Test. XII. R.H. Charles, The Testaments of the Twelve
Patriarchs, Oxford, 1908, Intr. para. 26, notes 2 Pet. 2.3 nXaotoig Aoyoi? IT.
Reub. 3.5 nAxrrceiv Aoyouc;; 2 Pet. 2.4 ei<; Kpiaw rnpou|aevoi>g/ T. Reub. 5.5
ei<; xoXaaiv auoviov TetTipTjTai. Further debts to the genre may be detected
in 1.13 (cf. Josephus, Ant. 4.178) and 2.13 (cf. Ass. Mos. 7.4).
20. Josephus Ant. 1.70C; Vita Adam. 49.3; Or. Sib. 3.54-96; etc.
21. Cf. A.E. Harvey, Jesus and the Constraints of History, London, 1982,
pp. 68f.
22. Cf. Barn. 15.4.
23. Jub. 4.30; 2 Enoch 33.2.
24. Josephus, C. Ap. 1.1.
25. Barn. 4.3, etc.
26. Thus p72 N.
27. E. Kasemann, in his article published in 1952 (E.T. 'An apologia for
Primitive Christian Eschatology', in Essays on New Testament Themes,
London, 1964) well observed that the author brought other terms, such as
evToX.Ti, ctXf|Oeia and TTICTK;, back from their new Christian to a more
general Hellenistic sense (pp. 174-75).
28. The comparison is made by D. von Allmen, 'L'apocalyptique juive et

le retard de la parousie en II Pierre', RTF 16 (1966), pp. 255-74, but by
including the earlier part of 1 Cor. 15 he finds only differences!
29. SVF 1.107; 2.596-632. Cf. J. Chaine, 'Cosmogonie aquatique et
conflagration finale dans la 2e Petri', RB 46 (1937), 207-16, who notes Justin
Martyr's observation that the Stoics had the same scheme but drew different
conclusions from it (1 Apol. 1.20; 2 Apol. 7). C.P. Thiede, 'A Pagan Reader of
2 Peter', JSNT 26 (1986), pp. 179-96, draws attention to OT antecedents of
this and to a parallel in the NT: Heb. 6.8.
30. J. Neyrey, 'Polemic in 2 Peter', JBL 99 (1980), pp. 407-31, places this
argument in the wider context of Epicurean attacks on conventional notions
of providence and theodicy.
31. The appeal was conventional: no actual quotations from any known
'Book of Enoch' are given. Cf. M. de Jonge, The Testaments of the Twelve
Patriarchs, Assen, 1953, pp. 84, 120-21.
32. 1 Thess. 5.4, derived from 'a thief in the night' (5.2). For a recent study
of this saying, with full bibliography, see J. Derrett, New Resolutions of Old
Conundrums, Shipston-on-Stour, 1986, pp. 50-60.
33. Rom. 2.4; m. Aboth 5.2; 2 Baruch 12.4; Wisd. 12.10; cf. Philo, Leg. All.
3.106.
34. E. Kasemann, art. cit., p. 193.
REFLECTIONS ON THE TRIALS OF JESUS
Fergus Millar
Brasenose College
Introduction
If anything at all is certain about the earthly life of Jesus, it is that he
was a Jew who expressed original and disturbing conceptions of what
Judaism ought to mean, and was executed on the orders of a Roman
praefectus who had little or no conception of what Judaism meant.
The varied and contradictory accounts which the Gospels provide of
how Jesus came to suffer crucifixion may thus be a suitable topic for
me, as a Roman historian, to offer in honour of Geza Vermes, just
over two decades since our joint work on the new Schiirer began.
It could hardly be disputed that if we could recover exactly what
was said and done, around the time of Passover in an indeterminate
year,1 to bring about the crucifixion, the results would be of almost
limitless importance. But no such claim will be made here. Nor will
the discussion take detailed account of the endless 'bibliography of
the subject'.2 Instead, the emphasis will be, first, on examining the
general characteristics of the Gospels, viewed as biographical
narratives (which is what they are, however 'kerygmatic' their
intentions). This discussion will suggest some reasons why, if any
one of the Gospels can bring us closer to the historical context and
overall pattern of Jesus' activities than the others, it is John rather
than any of the Synoptics;3 while, of the Synoptics, it is Luke who
has the weakest grasp on the realities of Palestine under Roman
domination. It is essential to stress that it is those realities which
provide the only touchstone for what may be veridical in any of the
trial narratives, as in the Gospel narratives as a whole. These
realities are genuinely accessible, to a significant degree, because
and only becauseof the works of Josephus. In the case of Josephus
we know who he was, what his place was in the Jewish history of his
time, what he wrote, when, where and to a large degree why. Not one
of those questions can be answered with any confidence for any one
of the Evangelists. None the less it is highly relevant to note that
Josephus' Jewish War, Antiquities and Life were themselves written
in Rome in the 70s, 80s and 90s; a work can truly spring from the
Judaea of before 70 CE without having been written either there or
then.
It is the evidence of Josephus which enables us to say not which of
the Gospel accounts is 'true', but, first, what is significant about
the differences between them; and secondly, which of the things
narrated by them could have been true, and conversely which could
not. To take one example: the two birth narratives, of Matthew and
Luke, are wholly different, and mutually incompatible; but Matthew's
account fits with historical reality and could be true in its broad
outlines, while Luke's does not, and cannot be true. This distinction
does not lose its significance even if we conclude, as I believe we
must, that in fact neither is true.
If we then turn to the trial narratives themselves, we may be able
to find reasons why some are likely to be false, because they do not fit
with what we know from more secure evidence. And we may also be
able to show that one is plausible, that it does 'fit'. But that is not the
same thing as proving it to be true. For it lies in the nature of
arguments from coherence that we can never confidently distinguish
between an essentially veridical narrative, based on first-hand
reports, and a convincing reconstructionor fictionwhose author
respected historical realities. We cannot know 'what happened'; but
we can certainly gain a clearer idea of the significance of the
differences between the several accounts we are given.
That we are given quite different accounts is of course well known.
For a start, in the Synoptics the Last Supper is a Passover meal at
which the Paschal lamb is eaten, and in John it is merely a meal on
the evening before Passover. We may not be able to prove which, if
either, of these versions is true, though some reasons will be
advanced below for preferring John's version. But what is logically
beyond dispute is that they cannot both be historically true; and
therefore that at least one of them is false. I make no apology for
placing so much weight on the question of literal, non-metaphorical,
non-theological, mundane truth or falsehood; for that after all is
what historians are for.
MILLAR Reflections on the Trial of Jesus 357
The Gospels as Biography and History

Before offering a view on the fundamental question of historical
truth, it is essential, however briefly, to look at the Gospels overall
when considered as biographical narratives. I assume in the
following discussion that the conventional view that Mark's Gospel
is the earliest of the Synoptics is correct; but also that Matthew
represents a development of Mark, and that Luke has probably used
both; and that John is independent. The trial-narratives themselves,
which represent so prominent a part of the structure of each of the
Gospels, lend strong support to these views.
I take up no position on the sources of the Gospels, nor on the
question of the absolute date when any one of them was written, nor
even on whether they were written before or after the siege of
Jerusalem and the destruction of the Temple in 70 CE. All that seems
to me to be certain of all four is that they could not have come to be
as they are without their deriving in some sense, direct or indirect,
from an environment in which the geography and social structure of
pre-70 CE Palestine was familiar; and, more important, an environment
in which the concerns of pre-70 Jewish society were still significant,
whether we think of the High Priests and 'the Sanhedrin', of
Pharisees and Sadducees, of the relations between Galilee, Samaria
and Judaea, or of the centrality of the Temple and of pilgrimage to it,
and of the major festivals celebrated there, Passover above all. In a
profound sense, the world of the Gospels is that of Josephus. But
there remains one major puzzle, to which too little attention has
been directed: in the Synoptic Gospels two groups called oi
Ypa(i(iaT6i<; and oi npeopu-cepoi play a major role. But these terms,
in the plural, as designations of apparently definable groups, are
unknown to Josephus' accounts of the period, in the War and the
Antiquities; it may therefore be significant that they are also
unknown to John. With that exception, and allowing for very
considerable variations between them, the Gospels all 'belong' in
pre-70 CE Palestine, and must in some sense derive from it. Within
that wider framework it must be firmly asserted that the Gospels are
biographical narratives; Matthew and Luke follow the life of Jesus
from birth to death; Mark and John do so from his recognition by
John the Baptist until death. The two pillars on which the structure
of all four narratives rest are therefore, first, John the Baptist and
his proclamation of Jesus, and secondly the Passion narratives.
Only Matthew and Luke take the story back to the birth of Jesus,
and do so in wholly different and incompatible ways. But we cannot

understand the significance of this comparison unless we hold fast to
the historical framework of the later years of Herodian rule and the
early stages of Roman rule in Judaea, as provided by Josephus.4 If we
use this framework, we find that Matthew presents an entirely
feasible succession of events. Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea
in the days of Herod the King (2.1), therefore not later than spring of
4 BCE. In fear of Herod, Joseph took the family to Egypt (2.14), which
since 30 BCE had been a Roman province. When Herod died (4 BCE),
an angel prompted Joseph to return to the land of Israel; but hearing
that Herod's son Archelaus was ruling in Judaea, as he did from 4
BCE to 6 CE, Joseph was afraid. So he went instead to Galilee, and
settled in Nazareth (2.23). The implication is that Archelaus was not
ruling there, which is correct. It is not, however, explicitly stated at
this point that the ruler there was Archelaus' brother, Herodes
Antipas, who was in fact in power there from 4 BCE to 37 CE. Indeed
it is not until 14.1-12 that 'Herodes the tetrarch' (his correct title)
makes his first and only entrance, with a reference back to his
execution of John the Baptist. So the historical framework is only
partially reflected; all the same the underlying presumption that
there was more to fear in Judaea under Archelaus than in Galilee
under Herodes Antipas is borne out by Josephus' accounts of the two
reigns.
The purpose of the story is to explain how Jesus, later to emerge
from obscurity as a man from Nazareth, both belonged to the line of
David (hence the genealogy in 1.1-17) and had in fact duly been born
in Bethlehem (2.1-6).
Luke's birth narrative has the same purpose, but sets about
fulfilling it quite differently. Even his genealogy, which he does not
introduce until ch. 3, disagrees with Matthew's, beginning in the
generation before Joseph; but it too includes King David (3.23-38).
More important, having begun by locating the story 'in the days of
Herod the king of Judaea' (1.5), he continues with the episode of
Zechariah and Elizabeth, coming only in 1.26 to Mary and her fiance
Joseph, 'from the house of David', but settled in Nazareth in Galilee.
The birth of Jesus in Bethlehem is brought about by the proclamation
of the census, requiring all to go to be registered, each to his own city
(2.1). So Joseph and Mary go to Bethlehem 'since he belonged to the
house and kindred of David'.
Unfortunately the story is a historically impossible construct,
which makes use of the long-remembered and traumatic moment

when in 6 CE, 10 years after Herod's death, and following the
deposition of Archelaus, Judaea became a Roman province, and the
Roman census, a complete novelty, was imposed. A resistance
movement flared up, and was repressed with difficulty. Luke is quite
unaware of this precise context. But he has also forgotten something
much more significant. Neither in 6 CE nor at any other time in the
lifetime of Jesus was Galilee under Roman rule, or subject to the
census. Furthermore, as we know from a much-quoted papyrus of
104 CE, the Roman census in fact required people to return, not to
their ancestral home, but to their normal place of work and
residence, which in the case of Joseph would have been Nazareth.5
We need not pursue the argument further. Both birth-narratives
are constructs, one historically plausible, the other wholly impossible,
and both are designed to reach back to the infancy of Jesus, and to
assert his connection with the house of David (as it happens, almost
the only characteristic of the earthly Jesus alluded to by Paul,
Rom. 1.2) and his birth in Bethlehem. For if it could be known at
all from where the Christos would come (for some doubts on this see
Jn 7.27) then it ought surely to have been Bethlehem; the expectation
is underlined most clearly of all in John (7.41-43): 'And they said,
"Surely the Christos does not come from Galilee? Has not Scripture
said that it is from the seed of David, and from Bethlehem, the village
where David was, that the Christos comes?"' John does not claim
that in this respect prophecy had been fulfilled; and it is he alone of
the Evangelists who confronts this failed expectation.
This is not the place to attempt to examine in detail the different
accounts in the Gospels of the various episodes of Jesus' ministry
between his recognition by John and his journey to Jerusalem, arrest,
'trial' and crucifixion. Such a detailed discussion would serve no
purpose, for, as mentioned above, all four Gospels show every sign of
deriving, directly or indirectly, from the real historical environment
of Jesus' preaching, in Galilee, Peraea, in the territory of Caesarea
Philippi, and of Tyre and Sidon, and en route between Galilee and
Jerusalem. But it is essential to state firmly that we cannot
amalgamate the four accounts to construct a 'life of Jesus'. We could
attempt to do so with the three Synoptics, but not with John, because
the structure of his narrative is fundamentally different. For the
Synoptics, there is only one journey to Jerusalem, that for the final
Passover, the occasion of the crucifixion. Their narratives thus lead
from Galilee and its environs to a single climax, namely the one
pilgrimage to Jerusalem for Passover. As such, this is entirely
convincing. Josephus' two narratives of the period give ample
evidence that Passover was indeed the main national pilgrim festival,
when vast crowds assembled, from Galilee not least, and when
disturbances could be anticipated.6
This concentration on a single climactic visit has its effect also on
the details of the Synoptic narratives. So, for instance, in Jesus'
lifetime the Roman census was imposed, and Roman taxation was
payable, in Judaea but not in Galilee, a fact which, as we have seen,
Luke's birth-narrative overlooks. The question of payment remained
a burning issue. So all three Synoptics represent the trick question
about whether to pay 'the census' as having been posed in Jerusalem,
necessarily in the period before the last Passover (Mk 12.13-17; Mt.
22.17-22; Lk. 20.21-26). It is also in this context that they must place
the cleansing of the Temple (Mk 11.15-17; Mt. 21.12-13; Lk. 19.45-
46). But in John this episode belongs in a quite different context. For
just as his trial-narrative is structured round Pilate's movements
between Jesus, inside the praetorium, and his Jewish accusers
outside, as we shall see, so his narrative of Jesus' preaching is
structured round a whole series of Jewish festivals, proceeding in
what looks like an appropriate sequence through at least something
more than one year, and each necessitating an ascent from Galilee to
Jerusalem. The sequence begins with a first Passover, almost the
earliest episode in Jesus' activity as a preacher, being preceded only
by the marriage at Cana (2.1-11), an item unique to John (Cana was
a real village in Galilee, where Josephus once stayed on campaign in
67 CE [Vita 86]; unfortunately he does not report having heard there
any interesting local tales). It is thus very early in the narrative that
John represents Jesus as then going up to Jerusalem for 'theposcAa of
the loudaiof, cleansing the Temple, meeting 'a man of the Pharisees,
Nicodemus by name, an archon of the loudaiof, who is to reappear
later after the crucifixion (19.39), and then going out into the
countryside of Judaea (2.13-3.21). On his way back he has to pass, as
Galilean pilgrims often did,7 through the territory of Samaria. The
picture then offered of Samaritan beliefs and attachment to their
sacred mountain (Mt Gerizim) is the most detailed in any of the
Gospels (4.1-42), and is vividly matched by Josephus' description
(Ant. 18.4.1 [85-87]) of an episode which belongs very soon after the
time of Jesus' preaching: a local man persuaded a large group to
ascend Mt Gerizim in the hope of finding there sacred vessels buried

by Moses; but the movement was suppressed by a force sent by
Pilate. The episode is followed by the dismissal of Pilate, apparently
in the winter of 36/7 CE.
In John's narrative Jesus now returns to Galilee, but his work is
interrupted by a 'festival of the loudaio? (eoprf) TOOV Tou6ai(ov, 5.1),
perhaps Pentecost (though the words could refer to the Passover of
the next year), and Jesus goes up again to Jerusalem, where he heals a
lame man lying at the pool called Bethesda, and is blamed for doing
so on a Sabbath (5.2-47). After his reply, and with no transition, he is
found going away across 'the sea of Galilee to Tiberias' (6.1, the only
reference to this new city in the Gospels). He then ascends a
mountain; but here the chronological sequence may be in some way
distorted, for John says that 'theposc/za, the festival of the Jews' was
near. There is no further reference to Passover in the long section
which follows (6.1-71). This must be either a displacement, or a
scribal or authorial error, or we have shifted forward a whole year (or
even two years altogether, if the two allusions to a eoprf) TGOV
Iou8aicov should be taken as referring to two successive Passovers).
But to solve the problem in that way would be to indulge in an
inappropriate literalism. It is perhaps more likely that there is some
mistake here, and that John is intending to portray Jesus' preaching,
and his movements from Galilee up to Jerusalem and back within the
framework of a cycle of festivals covering just over one year. If that is
so, then it is appropriate that we come in 7.1-2 to Sukkot/
Tabernacles. Jesus is preaching in Galilee, for he fears to go to
Judaea. But his followers urge him to go nonetheless, for Sukkot (f)
eoptfi TGOV ' Iou6aicov, r\ OKTIVOTTTIYICI) is approaching. Jesus then does
go, first clandestinely, then teaching openly in the Temple during the
festival. No features of this festival are explicitly reflected in this
section (7.1-52), except for an allusion to the last day, as being the
climax (ev 6e rfi eoxtirri fijjepp "cfj [ijakr\ -cf)c; eoptfjc;, 7.37); but the
atmosphere of a popular festival centred on the Temple is felt
throughout. It is worth recalling that, in a year which is probably 24
CE, almost contemporary with Jesus' preaching, the Jews of Berenice
in Cyrenaica held an assembly at which they voted honours to a
Roman official eni ouAAoyou TTJC; oKr\voT[r\jia<; (IGR, I, 1024).
As was mentioned above, we cannot regard the fact that the
Synoptics represent Jesus as going up to Jerusalem only for one
Passover as itself a strong argument for preferring John; for it is
indisputable that Passover was indeed the major national pilgrim

festival. Nonetheless John's representation of Tabernacles as being a
strong reason for going up to Jerusalem clearly accords with our
other evidence. Josephus emphasizes the special importance of the
festival (Ant. 15.3.3 [50-52]) and the requirement to go up to
Jerusalem to celebrate it for eight days (Ant. 3.10.4 [244-47]); but,
apart from the rules for the festival given by Philo,8 perhaps the most
striking of all testimony to its significance in this period is Josephus'
casual reference to the fact that in 66 CE Cestius Gallus was able to
capture Lydda with ease, because the entire population had gone up
to Jerusalem for the feast of Tabernacles (8id rf)v rfj<; oKT)vonr|yia?
eoprriv, BJ 2.19.1 [5.5]).
It is also in the context of this celebration of Tabernacles that John
represents differences breaking out over the inappropriateness of a
Christos coming from Galilee, and not from Bethlehem; and it is also
here that the arrest and examination of Jesus is first concretely
foreshadowed, for their attendants report about him to the archiereis
and Pharisaioi, who reproach them for not bringing Jesus with them.
We may recall a profoundly relevant episode which, as Josephus
records (BJ 6.5.3 [300-309]), took place at Tabernacles in 62 CE, when
a peasant, also named Jesus, began to prophesy in public against
Jerusalem and the Temple, was arrested by the archontes, brought
before the then Roman governor, Albinus, flogged, cross-questioned
and finally released as a lunatic.
In John's narrative there follows a long section representing Jesus'
preaching and healing, with no explicit indication of his either
staying in Jerusalem or leaving it ([18.1-11]; 8.12-10.21). But then
there comes a festival described as ret eyxaivia, in Jerusalem. It can
only be Hanukkah, for the meaning, 'renewal', is the same, and we
are in winter (xeiucbv rjv, 8.22); Jesus spends his time at the Temple,
in the 'Stoa of Solomon'. We know from Josephus that this festival
was celebrated for eight days but not how it was celebrated, except
(in general terms) with hymns, sacrifices and popular rejoicing (Ant.
12.7.7 [323-25]). Jesus again runs into danger, this time the threat of
stoning by the mob, and escapes. He then leaves Jerusalem to cross
the Jordan to the spot where John had first baptized him, and is
called back to raise Lazarus from his tomb at Bethany near
Jerusalem (10.40-11.46). It is this miracle which provokes an initial
CTi)ve8piov of the archiereis and Pharisaioi, at which they resolve to
put Jesus to death for fear of the Roman reaction if all the people
were to follow him. Caiaphas makes his first appearance, described

as larchiereus of that year', and utter the proposition that one man
should die for the sake of the people. This thought, John says, was in
reality an inspired prophecy; for Jesus would die not only on behalf
of the people, but so that he might gather together the scattered
children of God (11.47-52). The last Passover is approaching, and
large numbers are going up to Jerusalem in advance of it in order to
purify themselves (11.55). Meanwhile Jesus goes off to the desert,
then to Bethany again, and then makes his formal entry to the city
(11.54-12.12).
What is beyond question is, first, that John presents to the reader
an incomparably more detailed and circumstantial picture of Jewish
life in Palestine, punctuated by the annual rhythm of the festivals,
than do the Synoptics. He also represents the earthly activity of Jesus
as reaching a series of preliminary climaxes in Jerusalem, in close
association with these festivals. As indicated above, there is no way,
logically speaking, in which we can distinguish between a 'true'
narrative and one which is plausible and evidently related to a
historical and social framework known from other evidence. On the
one hand, either we must abandon altogether even the attempt to
decide questions of literal truth; or we must conclude that nothing in
any Gospel has any claim to truth; or we must choose. Either Jesus
went only once to Jerusalem, for the fatal Passover, or he went
several times, for a succession of festivals. Either we have no
evidence at all which offers us any access to the earthly life of Jesus,
or we must choose between John and the Synoptics. The only
criterion of truth in the Gospels which a historian can offer is
conformity with the world as portrayed by Josephus, and what we
have in John may be no more than a convincing fiction. But, as we
must choose, I suggest that the narrative of Jesus' ministry which
brings us closest to the real world of first-century Palestine is that of
John.
This suggestion can be no more than that. It is not only that we
cannot prove, or disprove, the literal truth of any statements in the
Gospels, or demonstrate the validity of one narrative structure as
against another. Nor can we ever escape from our inability to
distinguish a true story from a convincing literary construction. But
since we can hardly fail to wish to know more about these events,
whether we see them as embodying a divine revelation, or merely the
most important single turning-point in world history, we both may
and should form hypotheses about where we should begin in

thinking about the life of Jesus. All of the available accounts give a
very large place to the story of how he came to be crucified. I will
therefore suggest that if we wish to consider these narratives, we
should be open to the hypothesis that the one to which we should
give preference is that of John.
The Trial-Narratives
As already suggested, the trial narratives occupy a central place in
the structure of all four Gospels. Both in scale and in coherence they
have to be taken as representing a significant aspect of what the
Gospels, conceived of as narratives, are. It is also quite possible,
though it cannot be proved, that they represent the earliest narrative
sections to come into existence; on this hypothesis the Gospels, as
biographical narratives, will have grown backwards. It is noticeable,
as we have seen, that only two of them stretch back to Jesus' birth,
both in unconvincing ways, though Luke much more unconvincingly
than Matthew.
As is well known, the trial-narratives also present profound and
irreconcilable differences, Mark/Matthew from Luke and, much
more profoundly, all three Synoptics from John. The differences
centre both on the timing of the Last Supper and the crucifixion,
and, in ways which need more emphasis than they have received, on
the significance of Passover as a factor which determines how the
events unfold. In the Synoptics the Last Supper is a Paschal meal
eaten on the first night of Passover, the examinations of Jesus take
place during that night and in the following morning, and the
crucifixion follows on the first day of the festival. In John all this
happens one day earlier, and the beginning of Passover, on the
evening of the day of the crucifixion, is still expected.
Not all the features of the celebration of Passover as it was in the
first century CE, while the Temple still stood, need to be considered
here; and many aspects in any case remain somewhat obscure.9 But
certain points are crucial. First, Josephus makes clear that the
people would begin to assemble some six days before the festival, on
the 8th of Nisan (BJ 6.5.3 [209]); we have already seen this reflected
in John's narrative when 'many went up to Jerusalem from the
country before the pascha, so that they might purify themselves'
(11.55). Just after this a precise date is given: six days before the
pascha Jesus goes to Bethany (12.1).
Passover proper began on the evening of 14th Nisan, though it

seems clear that to accommodate the enormous number of private
sacrifices now offered by the people in groups, the long sequence of
sacrifices had in fact moved back into the afternoon of that day, long
before sunset.10 Indeed the festival cast its shadow even further back,
for all of 14th Nisan counted as a day of preparation;11 as we will see,
John twice described this day as napaoK6uf|, preparation (19.14 and
31). He may also single out the first day of the festival, when the
pascha was eaten, from the (originally separate) days of unleavened
bread which followed. That depends on how we read a crucial phrase
in 19.31 (see below). But in any case the later phase of Passover need
not concern us. What is however crucial is the question of
purification, stressed (see below) both by Ezra and by Philo, and
apparently affecting all participants, and not just priests. In the same
passage in which Josephus gives the total of participants at Passover
of (probably) 66 CE, he too stresses the exclusion of anyone suffering
from any form of impurity.12
These broad principles, which clearly ignore many finer points,
may provide a sufficient framework for understanding the highly
significant differences between the various Gospel narratives.
A. Mark
Mark's account begins with a Last Supper which takes place on the
first night of Passover and has as its purpose the eating of the pascha
(14.12-25), and continues with the arrival of Judas at Gethsemane,
accompanied by an armed mob 'from the archiereis and the
grammateis and the presbyteroi' (14.43). Jesus is then led to the
archiereus^ and all the archiereis^ presbyteroi and grammateis assemble.
The scene is the house of the archiereus, in whose courtyard Peter is
warming himself. Inside, the archiereus and 'all the synedriori* hear
testimonies against Jesus in order to kill him (14.55). Two questions
are specifically addressed to Jesus, about his proclamation that he
would destroy the Temple, and about his claim to be the Christos,
which Jesus admits, emphasizing his claim with a quotation from
Daniel (7.13).
This scene takes place at night, and at dawn Peter makes his
denial, and a cock crows (14.66-72). Immediately in the morning
(euGecoc; npcai), having taken council (ou(i(3ouXiov noifiaavreq), the
archiereus with the presbyteroi and grammateis and the whole
synedrion bring Jesus bound before Pilate, who asks him a different
question, 'Are you the king of the Jews?' The archiereis make
further accusations, receiving no reply (15.1-5). There follows an
episode involving the custom of releasing a prisoner on the occasion
of Pesach (KCITO, tf)v eoprriv), the crowd's demand for the release of
Barabbas, 'imprisoned with his stasiastai, who had committed
murder in the stasis', Pilate's dialogue with the crowd, its demands
for the crucifixion of Jesus, the release of Barabbas and the delivery
of Jesus for crucifixion. Jesus, now apparently outside, is taken
within the aule, or praitorion, abused by the soldiers, and led off
(15.16-20). Simon the Cyrenaican is commandeered en route, the
procession reaches Golgotha, and the crucifixion takes place at the
third hour, the cross being inscribed 6 (taaiAeuc; TCOV ' Iou8aicov, in
what language is not stated (15.21-32).
The whole account, from the arrest to the inscription on the cross,
occupies 56 verses, or a little over one chapter. It involves two
examinations of Jesus, one at night in the house of the archiereus and
one in the early morning in the residence, or praitdrion, of Pilate; but
it represents no formal trial or verdict. The phrase which Mark uses
of deliberations in the morning, oufipouXiov Troifjoavre? (15.1)
might indeed be read as meaning 'having held a council meeting'; but
where he uses it elsewhere it means no more than 'took counsel' or
even 'conspired' against Jesus (3.6). Pilate's order for crucifixion is
prompted by the demands of the crowd.
B. Matthew
Matthew's account has an almost exactly similar structure, beginning
with a Last Supper for the eating of \hepascha (26.17-29). The mob
which arrests Jesus, however, comes from the archiereis and
presbyteroi of the laos. The archiereus to whose house Jesus is
brought is identified as Caiaphas, and this time the archiereis are
omitted from the list of those who assemble there (who are described
as 'the grammateis and the presbyterof, 26.57). Nonetheless those
reported as seeking false testimony against Jesus are then described
as 'the archiereis and the whole synedrion' (26.59). The reported
dialogue is closely similar, and it is followed, again at dawn (npcota?
6e yevo|ji6vr|<;), by the taking of counsel (ouupouPuov etaipov, 27.1)
by the archiereis and the presbyteroi of the laos, who bring Jesus
bound before Pilate (27.1-2). After a complete inserted episode
relating to Judas and the thirty pieces of silver (27.3-10), Jesus

appears before Pilate, and is again asked, 'Are you the king of the
Jews?' The episode of Barabbas follows, with the extra detail of
Pilate's being seated on his tribunal (icaGrinevoi) 8e auTOU eni TOU
Pfjucnxx;, 27.19) and the anecdote of his wife's dream, and the detail
of his washing his hands (derived from Deut. 21.6-7). The rest
follows as in Mark, except that the reported inscription on the cross
is longer: OUTO<; ecrciv 'Ir|oou<; 6 pacnAeix; TOOV ' Iou8aicov (27.37).
The narration is thus a little fuller, with extra details, and occupies
64 verses, or a matter of a chapter and a half. The structure is
identical: two examinations, neither in the form of a trial concluded
by a verdict, and an order for crucifixion prompted by the demands
of the crowd.
C. Luke
Luke's account similarly follows a Last Supper which involves the
eating of the paschal lamb (22.14-38), and begins with the arrival on
the Mt of Olives of Judas with a 'crowd' (oxAo?), not otherwise
identified (22.47). When Jesus addresses them, however, they turn
out to be (or to include) archiereis^ strategoi of the temple and
presbyteroi. They take Jesus to the house (oikos) of the archiereus,
who is not named. Peter's denial follows (22.55-62), but the structure
of the narrative then becomes crucially different. For when dawn
breaks a formal council is convened: icai ax; eyeveTO f)uepa, OUVTIX^TI
TO npeopuTepiov TOU Xaou, dpxiepei? T6 Kai Ypauuaceis, mi
dTTfiyayov CIUTOV ei<; TO ouve8piov (22.66). The shift is crucial in two
different ways. First, Luke transfers to here Jesus' reply to the
question as to whether he is the Christos, and his answer quoting
Daniel. Secondly, this passage is the only one in the four Gospels
which seems to represent a formal meeting of the body normally
known in modern literature as 'the Sanhedrin'. This concept has its
problems, as we will see below; and the term npeopuTepiov is used of
'the Sanhedrin' only by Luke himself (otherwise in Acts 22.5).
However, Luke clearly intends to differentiate between an examination
at night in the house of the archiereus and some sort of formal
meeting of a council in the morning. None the less, even here, no
concluding verdict of the meeting is represented.
Luke continues by specifying, as neither Mark nor Matthew does,
exactly what accusations were put forward when Jesus was brought
before Pilate: 'We have found this man disturbing our people,
preventing them from giving tribute to Caesar and calling himself
Christos Basileus1 (23.2). However, Pilate asks the same question, 'Are
you the king of the Jews?' Luke then gives a unique twist to the story
by having the archiereis (and the crowd?) say that Jesus has been
upsetting the people, teaching throughout Judaea, beginning from
Galilee. This prompts Pilate to ask if Jesus is a Galilean, and, on
discovering that he is, to send him for examination to Herod (i.e.
Herodes Antipas, the tetrarch of Galilee and Peraea), who happens
to be Jerusalem. Herodes examines him, and sends him back to
Pilate (23.5-12). There is no inherent improbability in Herodes'
presence; Agrippa II, when ruling part of Galilee, and other areas,
but not Judaea, was to maintain a palace in Jerusalem, and came
there frequently (Josephus,Ant.20.5.11 [189-94]). Nonetheless Acts
provides a very clear indication of how this episode came to be added
by Luke, and by him alone: for in Acts 4.24-28 the early Christian
community is found quoting Psalm 2.1-2, napecrur|aav oi paaiAeis
"CTK Y^fo Kai oi dpxovre? auvrixOriaav eni TO auro, icata roO
Kupiou, mi Kara rou Xpiarou aurou, and applying this to the
double examination of Jesus before Herodes and Pilate. As is
notorious, the fact that an episode in the Gospels is explained or
justified in terms of a Biblical quotation does not necessarily prove
that the episode concerned is invented. But the presence of this
episode and its re-emphasis in Acts serves at any rate to underline
the freedom of Luke's use of whatever material he had before him.
In the Gospel Luke returns to Pilate's dialogue with the archiereis
and archontes of the laos, whom he summons for a second meeting,
and duly refers to Herodes' inability to find Jesus guilty. With that
variation, the exchange leads on to another narrative of the dialogue
involving the release of Barabbas, brought in without any explanation
of the custom or its relation to Passover, and ending with the delivery
of Jesus for crucifixion. The taunting of Jesus by the soldiers is
omitted, but Luke chooses to explain that Simon the Cyrenaican was
'coming from the field' (23.26), a bit of narrative colour which
however sits unconvincingly with the idea that this is the first
morning of Passover. The action moves to 'the place called Kranion';
the inscription on the cross is given almost as in Mark, 6 (taaiAeix;
tobv Tou8aia)v outos, again with no indication of the language used
(23.38).
The scene before Herodes, unique to Luke, remains a puzzle, and
its inauthenticity certainly cannot be demonstrated. But the crucial

variation is the representation of a formal council-meeting in the
morning, reinforced by a very concrete later reference to Joseph of
Arimathea: (3ouî)rf]c; vmdpxcov, dvfjp dya06<; Kai 6iKaio<; (ouio<;
OUK fjv auyKaTaTe9ei|uievoc; rfj pouAij Kai TTJ npdêi autcav) (23.50).
Mark had indeed referred to him as a pouXuif|<; (15.43)though
Matthew only as an dvOpcono? nAouaio? (27.57)but had necessarily
not deployed any allusion to his non-participation in the relevant
deliberations.
All the endlessly debated questions as to whether 'the Sanhedrin'
had the formal right to pass a sentence of death, and if so whether it
was compelled to have that sentence carried out by the Roman
governor, can thus be relevant to the Gospels only in relation to
Luke's Gospel; for it is only here that something which is clearly a
meeting of 'the Sanhedrin' is represented as taking place. Luke's
narrative might even gain some support from the provision in
Mishnah Sanhedrin, that that body could only meet as a court in the
hours of daylight. Appeal to the Mishnah will hardly help, however.
For the same passage also lays down that a capital trial could not be
held on the day preceding a Sabbath or a festival day (4.1). Even
disregarding the insoluble question of whether the Mishnah preserves
any veridical conception of how justice was exercised before the
destruction of the Temple, the notion that an arrest, an examination
in the house of an archiereus, perhaps also a formal meeting of 'the
Sanhedrin', the production of a prisoner before the Roman praefectus,
popular demands for execution, and the crucifixion itself could all
have taken place on the night of Passover and on the following
morning must give rise to serious questions. It is time to turn to
John's accounts.
D. John
As is well known, the overall structure of John's narrative differs
fundamentally from that which is common to the Synoptics, and
those details which do reappear in John mainly do so in a quite
different narrative context.
It was mentioned before that the preceding narrative of the Last
Supper explicitly locates the event before Passover (npo 6e rfj<;
eopifj? TOU ndoxa, 13.1), and the lengthy account of it is consistent
in betraying no trace of its having been a Paschal meal (13.1-17, 26).
This location in time is to be fundamental to the logic of the story, as

we shall see. Further differences also appear immediately. For the
armed band which Judas leads out to arrest Jesus in the garden
beyond the Kedron is composed of the speira and attendants of (or
sent by) the archiereis and the Pharisaioi (18.3). Speira is the normal
Greek translation ofcohors, and the impression that this is intended
to be understood as a Roman detachment is confirmed by the
reference a little later to the chiliarchos, the normal Greek for
tribunus (cf. the xiAiapXS rfj<; aneipric; of Acts 21.31, who turns out
to be the Roman officer Claudius Lysias). No explanation is given by
John of this Roman involvement, and indeed no comment is made on
it at all. The combined Roman-Jewish group brings Jesus first to (the
house of) Annas, a person not mentioned in any other Gospel in this
context, but carefully identified here: 'he was the father-in-law of
Caiaphas, who was archiereus of that year' (18.13). John further
identifies Caiaphas by saying that it was he who advised the Jews
that it was advantageous for one man to die on behalf of the people
(18.14), explicitly referring back to 11.47-52, where the advice had
been recorded in the context of a synedrion of archiereis and
Pharisaioi^ and Caiaphas had already been identified as 'the
archiereus of that year'. If John meant to imply that the High
Priesthood changed every year, he was of course wrong. But he was
correct in that Caiaphas was indeed High Priest from about 18-36
CE. His father-in-law Annas or Ananus (the relationship is attested
only here) had however also earned the designation archiereus by
holding the High Priesthood from 6 to 15 CE.30 The term is thus also
applied (by implication) to him when Peter and another disciple
follow Jesus into 'the aule of the archiereus^ (18.15), where
Peter makes his first denial. A first examination of Jesus is then
conducted by the archiereus^ evidently Annas, leading to no clear
answer, after which Annas sends him bound to appear before
Caiaphas the archiereus (18.19-24). It is here that Peter is again
described as warming himself, and making his second denial (18.25-
27).
No examination in the house of Caiaphas is represented. There is
thus a clear contradiction of all three Synoptic narratives, which
represent Jesus as being brought to only one High-Priestly house,
where the examination is conducted; and specifically of Matthew
who names the archiereus as Caiaphas. No taking of counsel in the
morning is recorded either, and instead 'they took Jesus from (the
house of) Caiaphas to the praitorion\ The time is indicated clearly,

and with it both the crucial element in the whole account and a
source of considerable difficulty: 'it was morning, and they did not
enter into the praitorion, so that they might not be defiled, but (be
able to) eat thepascha' (18.28). The context is thus made quite clear,
even if the nature of the defilement which would ensue on entering
the praetorium of the Roman praefectus is not immediately obvious.
It is however clear, though not explicitly stated, that the group which
would otherwise have entered the praetorium^ coming as representatives
directly from the house of the archiereus, should be presumed by the
reader to have included at least some kohanim; this indeed becomes
explicit later (19.6). Whether an even more profound significance is
to be attached to this precise moment in time depends on how we
understand the exchange which then follows between 'them' (not
identified in any way at this point) and Pilate. He comes out of the
praetorium to meet them, and asks what charge they are bringing.
They reply that, if Jesus were not a wrongdoer, they would not have
handed him over. Pilate then replies, 'Take him yourselves and judge
him according to your own law'. They (here defined simply as oi
louSaioi) say, 'It is not permitted to us to kill anyone (fjuiv OUK eêouv
cmoKteivai ou6eva). John's authorial comment is that the purpose of this
was to ensure the fulfilment of Jesus' own prophecy (as to how he would
be executed): noup Gavdio) fJiaeAAsv anoOvriaKeiv (18.32). The comment
repeats exactly what John had said at 12.32-33, referring to Jesus'
prediction that he would be 'raised up' (i.e. on a cross).
Leaving aside for a moment the question of how we should
understand the exchange between Pilate and the Jews, it should be
stressed that the structure of the narrative which follows depends entirely
on the physical separation of Jesus, under arrest in the praetorium^ and
the Jewish group outside. In this narrative Pilate now goes back inside
and questions Jesus about his alleged claim to be a basileus (18.33-38),
and then comes out again to offer the release of Barabbas. John relates
the custom to Passover, but puts the explanation of it in the mouth of
Pilate addressing the Jews: eon 8s ouvr|0eia u|iiv, iva eva uuiv
dnoA,uoco 8V TO) ndaxa. Barabbas is identified by John simply as a
XT)<ycf|<;, a brigand (18.38-40).
The episode of the mocking of Jesus, still in the praetorium^ follows
(19.1-3), after which Pilate comes out again and tells those outside that
he can find no cause for accusation in Jesus. Jesus then himself comes out
(or is brought out, as must be understood), wearing the mock royal
crown and robe. When Pilate displays him to those waiting, they,
described as the archiereis and the attendants, shout'crucify! crucify!'
Pilate then 'seeks to release him', by which it seems to be implied, though
it is not stated, that he has gone outside to speak to the loudaioi again.
For they then shout, 'If you release him you are not a friend of Caesar;
for anyone who makes himself a king is an opponent of Caesar'.
At this point John's narrative again goes in for deliberate and emphatic
detail as regards place and time. This has to be understood as a
significant feature of it as narrative; no presumption can follow as to
whether these details are or are not historically valid. Pilate's response to
these shouts is to lead Jesus out again and take his seat on his tribunal
(Pfjua) 'in the place called Lithostrotos, but Hebraisti "Gabbatha"'.
The time is given with equal precision: it was the day of preparation for
\hepascha (fjv 6e TrapaoKeuf) TOU naaxa); the time was 'about the sixth
hour'. The location is clearly understood to be a paved stone courtyard,
out of doors, and immediately outside the praetorium; it was in this
courtyard that the regular tribunal from which the governor gave
jurisdiction and held audience was situated. Matthew also mentions the
$f\\ui/tribunal (27.19), but does not give its location; and the consistent
separation of inside, with consequent impurity, and outside, in the open
air, plays no part in the Synoptic narratives. Nor of course does this
indication of die date.
Once seated on his tribunal, Pilate responds to shouted demands
for crucifixion by asking 'Shall I crucify your king?', and the
archiereis answer, 'We have no king but Caesar'. John then appears to
say that Pilate handed Jesus over to them (nape&oicev aikov auTQ<;) for
crucifixion (19.16), and continues by saying that 'they' took him
(nctpeXapov). But as the narrative unfolds it becomes clear that the
execution, and the division of Jesus' clothing (fulfilling Ps. 22.18),
is being conducted by Roman soldiers (19.23-4). John's detailed and
concrete narrative style is demonstrated to the end, though he makes
no reference to Simon the Cyrenaican. Jesus is brought 'to the place
called (place of) a skull, or, as is said Hebraisti, "Golgotha"'; he thus
reverses the equivalence stated by Mark (15.22). The element which
is central to all accounts of the crucifixion, the inscription on the
cross, is given here in much more detailed form. First, a longer
version of the text itself is offered: 'Irioou? 6 Naa>paioc; 6 paaiteixg
rd)v Tou8aia)v (19.19). John goes on to say that many Jews read the
inscription (TOY rirXov) since it was written 'Eppaicrci, 'PcojmaiaTi,
'EAAjivicrd. The use of the Latin loan-word (from titulus) is unique
to John among the four Gospels. So is the indication of the trilingual

character of the inscription (here as elsewhere it is not clear whether
Hebrew or Aramaic is intended by' Eppaiori). John alone concludes
his narrative with an exchange between Pilate and 'the archiereis of
the loudaiof, who complain that the appellation 'king' should have
been set out as what Jesus had claimed to have been, and not as the
actual truth.
A step-by-step analysis of the structure of John's narrative is
essential if we are to avoid the trap of attempting to amalgamate the
separate accounts, or of selecting convincing details from each, to
make up a historical reconstruction of'what really happened'. John's
account is in no way compatible with those of the Synoptics. It is not
only that there are many different details, or even that the sequence
of events unfolds quite differently. It is that the overall setting of
these events in relation to the Jewish calendar is different, and
significantly different: the Last Supper does not have the character of
a paschal meal, and the nature of the exchanges between Pilate and
the Jewish leaders is entirely determined by their refusal to enter the
praetorium in order to avoid pollution, and thus not be prevented
from eating the pascha later that day.
It has to be admitted that no precise explanation can be offered as
to why John should have presumed that entering the praetorium
would (or might) have entailed defilement. All that we know of the
period suggests that, with certain momentary exceptions, the
Romans avoided bringing into Jerusalem images which would offend
Jewish sensibilities. Nor is there any reason to suppose that
appearing before the governor would have involved any hospitality
by way of food or drink. The context does however clearly suggest
the idea either that the location, indoors, itself might impart
pollution, or that contact with gentiles, in a relatively confined space
indoors, as opposed to the open-air courtyard, might do likewise.
Nonetheless, however uncertain we may be as to the precise rules of
purity involved, it is not impossible to find in earlier or contemporary
Jewish writing expressions relating to fitness for Passover which
might reflect a general awareness of the need for extra caution.14 So
for instance Ezra 6.19-22:
The children of the captivity kept the passover upon the fourteenth
(day) of the first month. For the priests and the Levites had
purified themselves together; all of them were pure: and they killed
the Passover for all the children of the captivity, and for their
brethren the priests, and for themselves. And the children of Israel,
which were come again out of the captivity, and all such as had
separated themselves unto them from the filthiness of the heathen
of the land, to seek the Lord, the God of Israel, did eat, and kept the
feast of unleavened bread seven days with joy: for the Lord had
made them joyful, and had turned the heart of the king of Assyria
unto them, to strengthen their hands in the work of the house of
God, the God of Israel.
The notion of the need for purity as extending to all, not only to
priests, is also expressed very clearly in a source directly contemporary
with the crucifixion, Philo's De specialibus legibus 2.145-46:
After the New Moon comes the fourth feast called the Crossing-
feast, which the Hebrews in their native tongue call Pascha. In this
festival many myriads of victims from noon till eventide are offered
by the whole people, old and young alike, raised for that particular
day to the dignity of priesthood. For at other times the priests
according to ordinances of the law carry out both the public
sacrifices and those offered by private individuals. But on this
occasion the whole nation performs the sacred rites and acts as
priest with pure hands and complete immunity. The reason for this
is as follows: the festival is a reminder and thank offering for that
migration from Egypt...
Moreover, as J.A.T. Robinson pointed out,15 the Mishnah seems to
offer a conception of a possible context for the incurring, or non-
incurring, of impurity which fits precisely with the presuppositions
of John 18. For the tractate Oholoth states categorically (17.7) that
'the dwelling-places of gentiles are unclean', but goes on (17.10) to
provide some exceptions, including 'the open space in a courtyard'.
We can reasonably conclude that the notions embodied in John's
narrative are at least not provably inapplicable to this period.
However, far more significance than that may attach to the much-
discussed exchange between Pilate and the Jewish leaders, in which
he says to them, 'Take him yourselves, and judge him according to
your own law'to which they reply'It is not permitted to us to execute
anyone'. Their reply has sometimes been read as an allusion to a
fixed and universal ban on the carrying-out of executions (and
capital trials?) by the local Jewish authorities, in view of the equally
established reservation of that right to the Roman governor.16 Indeed
it has often been quoted as one of the conclusive items of evidence for
the existence of such a rule. If so, however, it must be regarded as
reading very strangely. For the narrative must represent the Roman
praefectus as being unaware of this rule, and as being informed of it
by the High-Priestly group before him. Such a reading, however
strange, is not however impossible, i/we conceive of the exchange as
a feature of John's narrative style, in which necessary explanations
are sometimes given by speakers to respondents who in the 'real
world' might be presumed not to have needed them. An example
already referred to, occurs a few lines later, when Pilate says, 'You
have a custom by which I should release one man to you at Passover'
(18.39).
Nonetheless, seeing the exchange as such an authorial device is not
the most natural way of reading the passage; and it does have to be
emphasized that what we are doing is reading a narrative; so how we
understand what we read ought to be determined in the first instance
by the nature of the information and interpretation which the author
has already provided. In that light the most significant guidance and
explanation provided by John is given only four lines before: that it
was morning, and that they would not enter the praetorium because
they wanted to avoid pollution and be able to eat the pascha. In that
light the exchange reads quite naturally. Pilate tells them to judge
him (he does not here say execute him) according to their own law.
And they reply that it is not allowed to them to execute anyone. Not
allowed by the Romans? Such an interpretation is possible, as we
have seen, but very strained. Or not allowed by Jewish law? It
immediately makes sense, for we are in the morning before Passover
and an execution was surely not permitted. We hardly need the
Mishnah (Sanhedrin 4.1) to tell us, as we have seen, that capital trials
could not be conducted on the day before a Sabbath or a festival,
because a capital sentence could not be pronounced until the day
following the trial. It should be stressed that to emphasize the
possibility of reading the text in this way is not at this point to make
any assertion about 'what actually happened', or about the rules of
capital jurisdiction which generally prevailed in the real world of
first-century Judaea. It is to suggest a way of understanding what
story John is telling; one to whose entire logic, as we have seen, the
approach of Passover is fundamental. John reminds us of this at the
moment when Pilate takes his seat on his tribunal: fjv 6e napaoKeufi
TOU ntiaxcr aipa fjv (b<; eiccr|. So he does again immediately after
Jesus' death, when the loudaioi, since it was napaaKeuri, ask that the
bodies of Jesus and the two robbers may be taken down so as not to
remain on their crosses 'on the Sabbath', by which he perhaps means

'on the day of a festival': EKSIVOU TOU oa3(3ti,Tou (19.31). If that seems
doubtful, we should note that some lines later, when Mary Magdalen
comes early in the morning, when it is still dark 'on the first (day) of
the Sabbaths' (20.1), John surely means 'on the first of the festival
days'.17
The structure of the narrative and its religious meaning and
context are derived from its location on the day of preparation and
the approach of Passover. It is surely suggestive that one reader who
without hesitation 'read' 18.31, 'it is not permitted to us', as an
allusion to the restrictions imposed by Jewish law was St Augustine:
'Non sibi licere interficere quemquam propter dieifesti sanctitatem\ls
Conclusions
This discussion has not attempted to present firm conclusions, which
are unattainable, but a series of approaches to the question of how we
should attempt to understand our evidence on how Jesus came to be
crucified. The primary suggestion is that in studying both the course
of Jesus' life and the manner of his death, we must not proceed by
amalgamating data from all four Gospels. That is illegitimate,
because not merely the details, but the entire structure of the story as
told by John is different from that in the Synoptics. Our evidence
consists of coherent texts, and even where they contain common
items, derived either from each other or from a hypothetical common
source, or sources, any approach must respect the integrity of these
texts as embodying different narrative structures. Any attempt to
answer the inescapable question of 'what really happened' must
therefore involve a choice. No arguments for any particular choice
can be conclusive, but without such a choice our selection of
elements to prefer must remain merely arbitrary. Given the necessity
of choice, this paper offers the suggestion that, both as regards the
narrative of Jesus' life and the culminating story of how he met his
death, we should give our preference to John.
The expression of such a preference can in itself be no more than a
hypothesis. That is to say that our position should be as follows: if,
hypothetically, we accept John's Gospel as offering us the best
account which we have of the steps which led to the crucifixion, what
are the consequences?
First, the arrest, successive examinations and crucifixion of Jesus
took place not on the first day of Passover, but on the day before,
from evening to mid-day. The Last Supper was therefore not a
Paschal meal at which the Paschal lamb was eaten, following the
custom by which, by extension, a ceremony originally conducted
solely in public in the Temple had become also a domestic ritual.
Instead it was merely a meal on the night before. We would thus have
to accept that it is the Synoptic accounts which have turned it, not
very convincingly, into a Paschal meal.19
Second, we would have to accept the assertion, unique to John,
that the arrest of Jesus was carried out by a Roman cohort under a
tribune, guided by Judas and assisted by attendants sent by the
archiereis and Pharisaioi. If so, that places him closer to the category
of the long succession of popular religious leaders, all viewed as
instigators of popular disorder, who are known from the pages of
Josephus, and all of whom, with their followers, Jewish and
Samaritan, were repressed by Roman forces. Jesus must by implication
have been viewed as being more like these than like the solitary and
apparently unbalanced pseudo-prophet, the other Jesus, arrested by
the Jewish archontes at Tabernacles of 62 CE (see above).
Most important of all, however, is the fact that John's narrative, in
which Passover has not yet arrived, gives Passover a much more
fundamental relevance to what happenedand howthan do the
Synoptics, which, while describing these events as occurring on the
first night and morning of Passover, ignore the significance which we
must presume to have attached to it in real life. For it is indubitable
that Passover was the most important of the annual Jewish festivals
in this period. Matthew and Mark, it is true, do not claim any more
than that the Jewish authorities arrested Jesus on that night,
examined him in the house of an archiereus, and accused him before
the Roman praefectus in the morning, pressing on Pilate the
necessity of crucifixion, to which he assented, and which then took
place. Even that may seem incredible in view of the requirements of
purity imposed during the festival. But Luke goes further, and
represents the calling of a regular council in the morning, after the
examination in the High-Priestly house, and before the accusation
before Pilate. If such an event really occurred, it must have offended
even more profoundly against the rules later propounded in the
Mishnahand more importantly against the underlying beliefs
about the sanctity of the festival which gave rise to those rules.
In John, by contrast, Passover, which has not yet arrived,
dominates everything. It is because Jesus is brought before Pilate on

the morning of the day whose evening will see the onset of Passover
that Jesus' accusers will not enter the praetorium. It is, on this
interpretation, because the sanctity of the festival prevents the
holding of a capital trial even on the day before, that they tell Pilate,
'It is not permitted to us to kill anyone'. It is because they (unlike
Jesus, who has no choice) remain outside the praetorium^ that Pilate
conducts the examination by alternating between questioning Jesus
inside and confronting his accusers, and the crowd, outside, in the
paved courtyard. This courtyard, identified only by John, has a
regular tribunal (Pfj(aa) on which Pilate formally takes his seat when
he finally brings Jesus outside to confront the Jewish crowd. Nothing
is described here, however, any more than in the other Gospels,
which could count as a formal trial by Pilate. There is no formal
accusation and defence; no opinions are asked of the governor's
consiliumjand no formal verdict is pronounced. As with the other
Gospels, in John the decision by Pilate to have Jesus executed is not
represented as a verdict concluding a trial, but as a political decision
taken as a concession to political pressure both from the Jewish
authorities and from the crowd. The long-debated question of
whether it was the Roman governor or 'the Sanhedrin' which had the
legal right to try capital cases in first-century Judaea and to order the
execution of those condemned on capital charges may be doubly
misconceived, if it is thought to be directly relevant to how we interpret the
Gospels. For, first, it has already been suggested that we should
think rather of the pattern presented by Josephus' account of the
execution of James, when the High Priest summons 'a synedrion of
judges' (Ant. 20.9.1 [200]); that is to say, when the occasion arose
the High Priest called together a group of citizens of his own
choosing, just as a Roman official would summon a consilium.20
Secondly, of the four Gospels, only Luke represents anything that we
could think of as a meeting of 'the Sanhedrin', and does so in a
context (the first day of Passover) which is highly improbable. For
the rest, what we see is an examination in the house of an archiereus;
or rather, in John's case, of the two successive archiereis, whose
current roles are carefully (and correctly) specified; again the
distinction between the archiereus currently in office (Caiaphas) and
an ex-holder with the rank of archiereus is unique to him. Since no
Gospel represents Pilate's decision as a formal verdict, there is a very
clear sense in which the entire notion of 'the trial of Jesus' is a
modern construct.
If instead it was a political decision, then it is again John who gives

the clearest conception of its motivation. As Martin Goodman points
out, Annas/Ananus was the first High Priest to be appointed by a
Roman praefectus after the establishment of the province in 6 CE, and
he and Caiaphas between them occupied the position for all but
about three of the first twenty years of the province. They cannot but
be seen as having collaborated successfully with the occupying
power. That Caiaphas actually expressed the view that it was worth
sacrificing one man to prevent Roman retribution on the whole
people Qn 11.50) cannot of course be known. But the thought would
have corresponded well enough to the logic of the political situation.
Moreover, either we know nothing whatsoever about the crucifixion
or we can at least accept the one detail on which all four Gospels
agree, that on the cross Jesus was described as 'King of the Jews'.
Only John adds the detail that this inscription was called by the
borrowed Latin term TitAo? (titulus\ and that it was written in three
languages. More important, it is he who represents Pilate's final
dialogue with the crowd as turning on just this point: 'If you release
this man, you are not a friend of Caesar; for anyone who makes
himself a king opposes Caesar', 'Behold your king!', 'Take him and
crucify him', 'Shall I crucify your king?', 'We have no king but
Caesar'. Philo's Against Flaccus happens to provide a precisely
contemporary analysis of the susceptibility to such pressure of a
Roman governor who feels himself to be out of favour with the
Emperor (Place. 3-4/8-23).
It was still the day of preparation for Passover (napaaKeui]), about
the sixth hour; there was still time for the crucifixion to take place,
and for the bodies of Jesus and the two robbers to be taken down
before the festival proper began (19.31), though the tomb where the
body was laid had to be close because of the 'napaaKeurj of the Jews'.
By the next morning it was already of course the first day of the
festival, or, as John puts it, 'the first day of the Sabbaths' (19.42-
20.1). It is the approach of Passover which dictates every aspect of
how the story unfolds, just as, in John's narrative, Jesus' life as a
Galilean holy man is structured by the need to go up repeatedly to
Jerusalem to the annual cycle of festivals. This necessity should, I
suggest, be seen as of crucial importance. It is remarkable that, even
in recent years, it has seemed possible to discuss the 'Palestinian
Judaism' of this time as a purely personal religion, without giving a
central (or indeed any) place to the communal worship and sacrifice
380 A Tribute to Geza Verities
at the Temple.21 But John's narrative may precisely reveal the

centrality of this communal sacrificial cult in the life of Jesus. If his
portrayal gives us a Jesus who is less far from 'the historical Jesus'
than the one whom the Synoptics represent, then we can at least
perceive that their attachment to these festivals was one thing which
Jesus and his accusers shared. It was not Roman law but their own
which made them say, at that moment, 'It is not allowed to us to
execute anyone'.
NOTES
1. I do not wish to enter into this question, but draw attention to the
powerful converging arguments advanced for Passover of 36 CE by
N. Kokkinos, 'Crucifixion in AD 36: the Keystone for Dating the Birth of
Jesus', J. Vardaman and E.M. Yamauchi (eds.), Chronos, Kairos, Christos;
Nativity and Chronlogical Studies Presented to Jack Finegan, 1989, p. 133.
2. I should note here the use I have made over the years of A.
Wikenhauser, Einleitung in das Neue Testament5,1963, and D. Guthrie, New
Testament Introduction, 1970, and more recently L.T. Johnson, The Writings
of the New Tesia- :** 1986. On the specific question of the trial narratives
see especially E. Bickerman, 'Utilitas crucis', RHR 112 (1935), p. 169 = Studies
in Jewish and Christian History, III, 1986, p. 82; A.N. Sherwin-White,
Roman Society and Roman Law in the New Testament, 1963; P. Winter, On
the Trial of Jesus2, 1974; O. Betz, 'Probleme des Prozesses Jesus', ANRW
II.25.1, 1982, p. 565.
3. My use of, and emphasis on, John clearly owes much to C.H. Dodd,
Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel, 1963, and to J.A.T. Robinson, The
Priority of John, 1985. See now M. Hengel, The Johannine Question, 1989.
4. For the historical framework and datings, and above all the crucial
question of the census of 6 CE, see Schiirer- Vermes-Millar, History of the
Jewish People, I, Edinburgh 1973, pp. 326f.
5. P. Land. 904, 11.18-38; Hunt and Edgar, Select Papyri, II, 1934, no.
220.
6. See e.g. BJ 2.1.3 [10-13]; 2.12.1 [224-27]; 2.14.3 [280-83]; 6.9.3 [422-
27]; Ant. 17.9.3 [213-18]; 20.5.3 [106-12].
7. See e.g. BJ 2.12.3 [232-33]; Ant. 20.6.1 [118-21].
8. Philo, De Spec. Leg. 1.189; 2.204-13.
9. I rely on the very interesting, if not always entirely clear or conclusive,
discussion by J.B. Segal, The Hebrew Passover from the Earliest Times to AD
70, London, 1963.
10. For the conduct of the sacrifices in daylight, during the afternoon of
14th Nisan, see Segal, op. cit., p. 233, using Jub. 49. For the process of
sacrificing in groups, amounting to vast numbers of individuals in all, see
Josephus, BJ 6.9.3 [423-26]. On Josephus' account, at Passover of (apparently)

66 CE, 295,600 victims were sacrificed on behalf of groups ((j>(p)dtpux) of 10-
20 each, these sacrifices being carried out between the ninth and the eleventh
hour, hence towards evening, but before sunset.
11. For this point cf. Segal, op. cit., p. 245, which does not however cite any
very clear evidence. The term napaaKeuii is attested as meaning 'the day
before Shabbat', e.g. Josephus, Ant. 16.6.2 [163], but so far as I know not
elsewhere unambiguously in relation to a festival. But (see below) Jn 19.14
uses napaoKeufi TOU ntiaxa.
12. BJ 6.9.3 (426): KaGapcov dndvcwv KCU ayuov. oihe yap Xenpoiq oute
yovoppoitKOi? oute yuvaiîv eneiiuiivoi? OUTC TOI<; dAAax; ue|aiaa|aevoi<;
eov fjv TfjaSe tfj<; 0uaia<; ueraXaupdvetv. See S. Safrai, 'The Temple',
JPFC 2 (1976), pp. 865ff., on pp. 891-92.
13. For the family see now D. Barag and D. Flusser, 'The Ossuary of
Yehohanan Granddaughter of the High Priest Theophilus', IEJ 36 (1986),
p. 39.
14. The quotations are borrowed from Segal, op. cit., pp. 10 and 26.
15. Robinson, op. cit., pp. 228-29.
16. See e.g. Sherwin-White, op. cit., pp. 32f.
17. The interpretation of all these expressions seems to me extremely
problematic, and I am not convinced that any of them clearly indicate what
day of the week (as opposed to what day before, or of, Passover) John means
to represent. In particular the Anchor Bible translation of 20.1 as 'the first
day of the week' seems to me quite impossible. For in that case Shabbat, as
the last day of the week, has disappeared.
18. The quotation comes from Augustine, In Joh. Ev. Tract. 114, 4
(Corpus Christianorum, Series Latina XXXVI, 641): 'Sed intelligendum est
eos dixisse non sibi licere interficere quemquam, propter diei festi sanctitatem,
quern celebrare iam coeperant; propter quern de uigressu etiam praetorii
contaminari metuebant'. The same point is made very briefly by John
Chrysostom, In Joh. Homil. 73, 4 (PG LIX, col. 452).
19. So e.g. Segal, op. cit., p. 245.
20. For this suggestion see M. Goodman, The Ruling Class of Judaea: the
Origins of the Jewish Revolt against Rome, 1987, pp. 113f.
21. So E.P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism., 1977, Part I: 'Palestinian
Judaism'.
BIBLIOGRAPHY OF THE WORKS OF GEZA VERMES
1949-1989
Books
Les manuscrits du desert dejuda (Tournai-Paris: Desclee, 1953), 216
pp. (2nd edn, 1954, 220 pp.).
Discovery in the Judean Desert (New York: Desclee, 1956), 238 pp.
Scripture and Tradition in Judaism: Haggadic Studies (Leiden: Brill,
1961), x, 243 pp. (2nd edn, 1973).
The Dead Sea Scrolls in English (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1962),
255 pp. (2nd edn, 1975,281 pp., 3rd edn, 1987,320 pp. [hardback
edn, Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1987]).
Jesus the Jew: A Historian's Reading of the Gospels (London: Collins,
1973), 286 pp. (New York: Macmillan, 1974; London: Fount
Paperback, 1976; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1981; London:
SCM Press, 1983).
The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ (175 EC-AD
135} by E. Schiirer, vol. I, revised and edited by G. Vermes & F.
Millar (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1973), xvi, 614 pp.
On the Trial of Jesus by P. Winter, revised and edited by T.A. Burkill
& G. Vermes (Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 1974), xxiii, 225 pp.
Post-Biblical Jewish Studies (Leiden: Brill, 1975), x, 246 pp.
The Dead Sea Scrolls: Qumran in Perspective (London: Collins,
1977), 240 pp. (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1981; London:
SCM Press, 1982).
Jesus eljudio (Barcelona: Muchnik, 1977), 306 pp.
Jesus lejuif (Paris: Desclee, 1978), 298 pp.
\Jesus the Jew in Japanese] (Tokyo: The United Church in Japan,
1979), 420 pp.
The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ, vol. II,
revised and edited by G. Vermes, F. Millar & M. Black
(Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1979), xvi, 606 pp.
Los manuscritos del Mar Muerto (Barcelona: Muchnik, 1981), 240
pp.
The Gospel of Jesus the Jew (Newcastle: University of Newcastle,

1981), viii, 64 pp.
Essays in Honour of Yigael Yadin, ed. by G. Vermes & J. Neusner
(Totowa: Allanheld, 1983), xvi, 600 pp.
Gesu I'ebreo (Rome: Borla, 1983), 283 pp.
Jesus and the World of Judaism (London: SCM Press, 1983;
Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1984), x, 197 pp.
Historia del pueblo judio en tiempos de Jesus, vols. I-II (Madrid:
Cristiandad, 1985), 792, 798 pp.
Storia del popolo giudaico al tempo di Gesu Cristo, vol. I (Brescia:
Paideia, 1985), 736 pp.
The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ, revised
and edited by G. Vermes, F. Millar & M. Goodman, vol. III/1-2
(Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1986-87), xx, 1015 pp.
Storia del popolo giudaico al tempo di Gesu Christo, vol. II (Brescia:
Paideia, 1987), 724 pp.
The Dead Sea Scrolls Forty Years On: The Fourteenth Sacks Lecture
(Oxford Centre for Hebrew Studies, 1987), 20 pp.
The Essenes according to the Classical Sources, by G. Vermes & M.
Goodman (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1989), xi, 103 pp.
Jesus derjude (Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, forthcoming).
Translation
The Essene Writings from Qumran by A. Dupont-Sommer (Oxford:
Blackwell, 1961), xvi, 428 pp.
Papers
'Nouvelles lumieres sur la Bible et le judaisme', Cahiers Sioniens 3
(1949), 224-33.
'La secte juive de la Nouvelle Alliance d'apres ses Hymnes
recemment decouverts', ibid. 4 (1950), 178-202.
'A propos des "Apercus preliminaires sur les manuscrits de la Mer
Morte" de M. A. Dupont-Sommer', ibid. 5 (1951), 58-69.
'Le Commentaire d'Habacuc et le Nouveau Testament', ibid. 5
(1951), 337-49.
Bibliography of Geza Vermes 385
'La Communaute de la Nouvelle Alliance', Ephemerides Theologicae

Lovanienses 27 (1951), 70-80.
'Ou en est la question des manuscrits de la Mer Morte?', Cahiers
Sioniens 7 (1953), 63-76.
'Notes sur la formation des traditions juives', ibid., 320-42.
'La cadre historique des manuscrits de la Mer Morte', Recherches de
Science Religieuse 41 (1953), 5-28, 203-30.
'A propos des commentaires bibliques ddcouverts a Qumran', La
Bible et I'Orient (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1955),
95-103.
'La figure de Moi'se au tournant des deux Testaments', Moise,
I'homme de I'Alliance (Paris: Desclee, 1955), 63-92.
'Quelques traditions de la Communaute de Qumran', Cahiers
Sioniens 9 (1955), 25-58.
'La litterature rabbinique et le Nouveau Testament', ibid., 97-123.
'Deux traditions sur Balaam', ibid., 289-302.
'"Car le Liban, c'est le Conseil de la Communaut6"', Melanges
A. Robert (Paris: Bloud & Gay, 1957), 316-25.
'The Symbolical Interpretation of Lebanon in the Targums'jjowrna/
of Theological Studies N.S. 9 (1958), 1-12.
'Baptism and Jewish Exegesis: New Light from Ancient Sources',
New Testament Studies 5 (1958), 308-19.
'The Torah is a Light', Vetus Testamentum 9 (1958), 436-38.
'Pre-Mishnaic Jewish Worship and the Phylacteries from the Dead
Sea', ibid., 10 (1959), 65-72.
'Essenes-Therapeutai-Qumran: Ancient Jewish Asceticism and the
Dead Sea Scrolls', Durham University Journal 52 (1960), 97-
115.
'The Etymology of Essenes', Revue de Qumran 2 (1960), 427-43.
'Essenes and Therapeutae', ibid. 3 (1962), 495-504.
'The Targumic Versions of Genesis iv, 3-16', Annual of Leeds
University Oriental Society 3 (1963), 81-114.
'Haggadah in the Onkelos Targum', Journal of Semitic Studies 8
(1963), 159-69.
'Midrash', Enciclopedia de la Biblia (Barcelona, 1965).
'Neglected Facts about the Dead Sea Scrolls', Daily Telegraph, 9
April 1966.
'The Use of bar nosh/bar nasha in Jewish Aramaic', in M. Black, An
Aramaic Approach to the Gospels and Acts (3rd edn, Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1967), 310-28.
'The Decalogue and the Minim', In Metnoriam Paul Kahle (Berlin:

Alfred Tbpelmann, 1968), 232-40.
'Quest for the Historical Jesus', Jewish Chronicle Literary Supplement,
12 December 1969.
'He is the Bread: Targum Neofiti Exodus 16.15', in Neotestamentica
et Semitica: Studies in Honour of M. Black (Edinburgh: T. & T.
Clark, 1969), 256-63.
'The Qumran Interpretation of Scripture in its Historical Setting',
Annual of Leeds University Oriental Society 6 (1969), 85-97
(German transl. 'Die Schriftauslegung in Qumran in ihrem
historischen Rahmen', in Qumran, Wege der Forschung, CDX
[Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1989], 184-
200).
'Bible and Midrash: Early Old Testament Exegesis', in The Cambridge
History of the Bible, vol. 1 (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1970), 199-231, 592.
'The New English Bible', Jewish Chronicle, 20 March 1970.
'Ancient Judaism in the Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls', Pointer 7.1
(1971), 4-6.
'Hanukka and History', ibid. 8.2 (1972), 7-8.
'From the very excellent to the poor: The Encyclopaedia Judaica',
Jerusalem Post, 11 August 1972.
'Hanina ben Dosa', Journal of Jewish Studies 23 (1972), 28-50; 24
(1973), 51-64.
'Sectarian Matrimonial Halakhah in the Damascus Rule', ibid. 25
(1974), 197-202.
'Jesus the Jew: The Claude Montefiore Memorial Lecture 1974',
(Liberal Jewish Synagogue 1975), 15 pp.
'The Archangel Sariel: A Targumic Parallel to the Dead Sea Scrolls',
in Christianity, Judaism and other Greco-Roman Cults, Part III,
ed. J. Neusner (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1975), 159-66.
'The Impact of the Dead Sea Scrolls on Jewish Studies', Journal of
Jewish Studies 26 (1975), 1-14 (Reissued in Approaches to
Ancient Judaism: Theory and Practice, ed. W.S. Green [Chico:
Scholars Press, 1978], 201-14. Hungarian translation in Evkonyv
1975/76 [Budapest, 1976], 389-403).
'The Impact of the Dead Sea Scrolls on the Study of the New
Testament', Journal of Jewish Studies 27 (1976), 107-16 (Hungarian
transl. in Evkonyv 1977/78 [Budapest 1978], 421-34).
Bibliography of Geza Vermes 387
'Dead Sea Scrolls', in The Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible:

Supplementary Volume (Nashville: Abingdon, 1976), 210-19.
'Interpretation, History of, at Qumran and in the Targums', ibid.,
438-43.
'Manuscripts from the Judean Desert', ibid., 563-66.
'The Present State of the "Son of Man" Debate', Journal of Jewish
Studies 29 (1978), 123-34.
'The "Son of Man" Debate', Journal for the Study of the New
Testament 1 (1978), 19-32.
'Jewish Studies and New Testament Interpretation', Journal of
Jewish Studies 31 (1980), 1-17.
'The Gospels without Christology', in God Incarnate: Story and
Belief,ed. A.E. Harvey (London: SPCK, 1981), 55-68.
'Leviticus 18.21 in Ancient Jewish Bible Interpretation', in the
Joseph Heinemann Memorial Volume (Jerusalem: Magnes Press,
1981), 108-24.
'The Essenes and History', Journal of Jewish Studies 32 (1981), 18-
31.
'Jewish Studies and New Testament Exegesis: Reflections on
Methodology', Journal of Jewish Studies 33 (1982), 361-76.
'A Summary of the Law by Flavius Josephus', Novum Testamentum
24 (1982), 289-307.
'Jesus der ]ude',Judaica 38 (1982), 215-28.
'Miriam the Jewess', The Way: Supplement 45 (1982), 55-64.
'L'ebreo Gesu', Sefer 23 (1983), 5-9.
'Vita egy konyvrol [Controversy over a book]', Vigilia 49.5 (1984),
344-49.
'La litterature juive intertestamentaire a la lumiere d'un siecle de
recherches et de dcouvertes' (with M. Goodman), in Etudes sur
le Judaisme hellenistique, ed. R. Kuntzmann & J. Schlosser
(Paris: Cerf, 1984), 19-39.
'Methodology in the Study of Jewish Literature in the Graeco-
Roman Period', Journal of Jewish Studies 36 (1985)? 145-58.
'Scripture and Tradition in Judaism: Written and Oral Torah', in
Literacy and the Written Word: Wolf son College Lectures 1985,
ed. G. Baumann (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986), 79-
95.
'"Jesus: the Evidence" and the British Press', Lycidas 13 (1986), 40-
42.
'The Jesus Notice of Josephus Re-examined', Journal of Jewish

Studies 38 (1987), 1-10.
'Jesus the Jew', in Renewing the Judeo-Christian Wellsprings, ed. V.A.
Mclnnes (New York: Crossroad, 1987), 122-35.
'Jesus and Christianity', ibid., 136-50.
'Biblical Studies and the Dead Sea Scrolls 1947-1987: Retrospects
and Prospects', Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 39
(1987), 113-28.
'New Light on the Dead Sea Scrolls', Jewish Chronicle, 5 June
1987.
'Symposium on the Manuscripts from the Judaean Desert: Preliminary
Remarks', Journal of Jewish Studies 39 (1988), 1-4.
'"Josephus's" Portrait of Jesus Reconsidered', in Occident and
Orient. A Tribute to the Memory of A. Scheiber (Budapest:
Akademiai Kiad6/Leiden: Brill, 1988), 373-82.
'Jesus the Jew: Christian and Jewish Reactions', Toronto Journal of
Theology 4 (1988), 112-23.
'Biblical Exegesis at Qumran', in the Yigael Yadin Memorial Volume,
Eretz Israel 20 (1989), 184*-191*.
'Biblical Proof-Texts in Qumran Literature', in The Edward Ullendorff
Festschrift, Journal of Semitic Studies 34 (1989), 493-508.
INDEXES
INDEX OF ANCIENT REFERENCES
OLD TESTAMENT
Genesis 22.1 126, 128, 35.11 184

1.2 349 129, 130, 35.21 192
1.26 136 133, 135, 37.31 215
2-3 151 137 43.30 29
2.11 70 22.2 132, 134, 48.4 184
2.16 77 135, 137 48.13 81
3.15 73 22.3 134, 135 49.5-7 345
3.22 144 22.4 135 49.9 17
3.24 144, 145, 22.5 134, 135
146, 151 22.7 134, 135 Exodus
10.6 81 22.8 135 14.21-22 202
10.25 67, 68, 76, 22.9 135 15.2 210
78, 83, 94 22.10-11 135 19.5 211
11 68, 71, 73, 22.12 135 19.6 184, 185
87, 93, 95 22.13 135 21.33 32
11.1-9 68 22.14 135 22.17 171
11.1 73, 78, 82, 22.16 131, 135 23.7 46
89 22.17 135, 137 24.7 211,212
11.2 70,90 24.32 204 25.17 209
11.3 72, 73, 77, 26.5 132, 133 32 207, 219
81 28 176, 181 32.4 211
11.4 75 28.3 184 32.7 221
11.5 74, 76, 94 28.12 181, 190 32.8 215,216
11.8 75,76 28.20-22 176 32.31 222
11.9 76 28.20 189 32.35 214
12.1 138 32 159 34.40 212
14.10 32 32.25 35 40.7 29
14.18 335 34 345 43.7 34
17.6 184 35 179, 186,
17.13 293 187 Leviticus
17.14 293 35.1-6 190 8.1 213, 222
17.16 184 35.1 189 9.2-4 216
18.17 127 35.2 179, 189 9.2-3 216
18.19 341 35.3 189 9.2 215
20.1 78,82 35.4 178, 179 9.3-4 215, 216
21.8 128, 130 35.9 191 9.3 215
22 191 35.10 184 9.4 216
Leviticus (com.) 30.15 141, 142, / Chronicles

9.5 217 143, 144, 1.20 94
9.7 214, 217, 145, 146, 16.27 329
222 147, 149, 19.10f. 328, 329
12.2 170 150, 151 29.10-11 331
17-26 44 30.19 142, 143, 29.1 Ob 329
19.17 42 144, 145, 29.11 328, 329,
21.9 169 146, 146, 330, 331,
22.10 211 147, 150, 337
151, 152 29.11a 331
Numbers 31.16 29 29.12 331
5.12 169 32.8 74, 87, 88
9.17 34 32.18 210 2 Chronicles
10.33 90 32.33 77 2.8 33
10.34 70 33.8-11 59 15.3 86,97
12.12 195
14.4 210 Joshua Ezra
15.31 92 2.1 29 6.19-22 373
17.20 92 2.16 29
19.20 72 22.19 34 Job
20.6 92 24.15 151 8.13 310, 314
20.8 92 9.24 337
21.28 60 Judges 12.13 330
30 42 19.15 29 13.12 94
30.15 42 21.10 29 13.16 314
33.54 29 15.34 310, 314
35.33 310 Ruth 17.8 310, 314
1.7 31 20.5 310, 314
Deuteronomy 24.2 82
1.1 208, 209, 1 Samuel 27.8 310, 314
221 2.30 128 34.30 314
1.37 29 36.13 314
2.14 73,84 2 Samuel 40.2 314
3.19 141 2.2 29
3.20 143 17.18 29 Psalms
4.29 122 2.1-2 368
5.26 211 1 Kings 1.1 91,93
6.5 21 18.21 142, 150 2.4 93
8.2b 137 19.9 29 7.10 127, 131
9.19 214 8.5-10 136
9.20 214 2 Kings 8.5 127, 136
11.14 227 2.9 195 22.18 372
11.26 142 4.11 336 26.4 82
17.16 95 4.32-38 203 28.1 329, 331
19.14 76, 87, 88, 6.9 29 35.16 314
93,98 13.21 195 53.3-4 78
21.6-7 367 18.32 227 53.4 80
27.17 77 19.32 29 82.5 74
30 147 23.8 29 82.6-7 212
30.15-20 140 23.9 85 82.6 74, 92, 211
30.15-19 143 23.25 21 90 348, 349
Psalms (cont.j 19.22 70,86 40.40 32

90.4 348 20.6 29 40.44 32
95.7 329 22.18 29
103.31 329 24.5 310 Daniel
106.20 216 27.10 30 1.8 234, 242
106.38 310 32.6 310, 314 4.22 337
110.4 335 33.14 310, 314 4.31 330
118.29-30 147 33.33 30 4.33 337
119.29-30 147 34.15 28,34 5.18 336
122.4 34 40.1 160 7.13 365
133.2 35 53.9 336 11.14 84
145.3 337 54.6 169 7.18 92
57.7 30 7.27 337
Proverbs 64.10 72 10.5 98
3.34 77 65.9 30,34 11.14 96
11.9 314 11.21 311
22.28 87, 88, 93 Jeremiah 11.32 310, 311
26.18 316 3.1 310 11.34 311
27.8 54 3.2 310 12.6 98
3.9 310 12.7 98
Ecclesiastes 11.15 133
5.1 78 12.9 312 Hosea
9.7-8 227 16.16 54 3.4 80, 86, 97
10.8 73 21.8 142, 143, 4.17 81
10.8-9 93 146, 147 5.10 76
10.8 77, 91, 93 22.27 28 5.11 77, 82, 97
10.9 76 23.11 310 6.9 315
23.12 311 10.2 81
Isaiah 23.15 310 10.12 59
1.6 227 27.22 29,31
1.19-20 150 29.14 29 Micah
1.25 78,86 32.17 131 2 77
1.26 86 2.6 77
2.22 46 Ezekiel 3.10 82
5.1 133 8.3 90 3.11 70, 71, 78,
5.2 88 9.2 98 81,86
7.17 81 9.3 98 3.12 78
9.1 92 9.4 90 4.8 98
9.16 310, 314 9.7 90
10.6 314 9.11 98 Nahum
11.1 17 10.2 98 3.1 82
13.21 30, 31, 34 10.6 98 3.9 69,80
19.8 54 10.7 98
19.19 85, 86, 87, 13.10 77 Habakkuk
97 14.3 85 2.12 82
19.20 76,86 33.24 94
NEW TESTAMENT
Matthew 15.43 369 13.1-17 369

1.1-17 358 15.66-72 365 13.1 369
2.1-6 358 13.26 369
2.1 358 Luke 18.3 370
2.14 358 1.5 358 18.10 346
2.23 358 1.26 358 18.13 370
6.2 307, 308, 1.68 329 18.14 370
313, 318 2.1 358 18.15 370
6.5 307, 313, 2.32 345 18.19-24 370
318 3.23-38 358 18.25-27 370
6.13 329, 332 12.46 317, 318 18.28 371
6.13a 332 12.56 319 18.31 376
6.1 3b 327, 333 13.15 319 18.32 371
6.13c 327 19.45-46 360 18.33-38 371
6.16 318 20.21-26 360 18.38-40 371
6.24 142 20.23 317 18.39 375
7.13-14 147, 152 22.14-38 367 19.1-3 371
21.12-13 360 22.47 367 19.6 371
22.17-22 360 22.55-62 367 19.14 365, 381
22.18 317, 318 22.66 367 19.16 372
23.23 318 23.2 368 19.19 372
23.25 318 23.5-12 368 19.23-24 372
23.27 318 23.26 368 19.31 365, 376,
23.29 318 23.38 368 379
24.51 317, 318 23.50 369 19.34 145
26.17-29 366 19.39 360
26.57 366 John 19.42-20.1 379
26.59 366 2.1-11 360 20.1 376
27.1-2 366 2.13-3.21 360 21.18f. 353
27.1 366 4.M2 360
27.3-10 367 5.1 361
27.19 367, 372 5.2-47 361 Acts
27.37 367 6.1-71 361 4.24-8 368
27.57 369 6.1 361 15.14 345
7.1-52 361 21.31 370
Mark 7.1-2 361 22.5 367
3.6 366 7.27 359
11.15-17 360 7.37 361 Romans
12.13-17 360 7.41-43 359 1.2 359
12.15 317 8.1-11 362 1.25 329
14.12-25 365 8.12-10.21 362 2.4 354
14.43 365 8.22 362 9.5 329
14.55 365 10.40-11.46 362 11.36 329, 330
14.71 346 11.47-52 363, 370 16.27 329
15.1-5 366 11.50 379
15.1 366 11.54-12.12 363
15.16-20 366 11.55 363, 364 I Corinthians
15.21-32 366 12.1 364 15.35ff. 349
15.22 372 12.32-33 371 15.45 349
2 Corinthians 13.21 329, 330 3.6 343

1.3 329 3.7 349
11.31 329 1 Peter 3.8 348
1.3 329 3.9 348, 349
Galatians 2.1 307 3.10 350
1.4f. 332, 333 4.11 329, 330 3.12 348, 349
1.5 329, 330 5.11 329, 330 3.13 348, 349
2.13 307, 323 3.15 342, 350
2 Peter 3.16 347
Ephesians 1.1 345 3.17 352
1.3 329 1.11 351 3.18 329
2.14 151 1.13 353
3.21 329 1.14 346 Jude
1.18 346 6-7 343
1 Thessalonians 1.20-21 347 6 34
5.4 354 2.3 353 7 341, 343
2.4 341, 343, 9 342
1 Timothy 353 11 341, 343
1.17 329, 330 2.5 341 12 342
4.2 307 2.6 341, 343 16 352
6.16 329, 330 2.10 352 17 342
2.11 342 25 329, 330,
2 Timothy 2.13 353 331
3.8 97 2.15 341
4.18 329, 330, 2.17 342 Revelation
332, 333 2.18 352 1.6 329, 330
2.21 347 5.5 17
Hebrews 3.4 347, 349 5.13 329, 330
5.6 335 3.5-7 348 7.12 329, 330
6.8 354 3.5 349
APOCRYPHA AND PSEUDEPIGRAPHA
Apocalypse of Baruch 16.6 310, 314, 1 Enoch

19.1 150 318 3.6 349
22.3-5 167 22.14 337
Assumption of Moses 34.1 168, 172 89 88
7.4 353 35.15 315 91.18 148
36.2 316 94.1 148
2 Baruch 41.10 310, 314 99.2 93
12.4 354 40.15 310, 314 99.14 93
42.9-14 167
3 Baruch 42.9-10 167 2 Enoch
3.5 95 42.9a-b 168 30.15 147
3.7 93 42.9c-d 169 33.2 353
42.10a-b 169 52.9 93
Ben Sira 42.10c-d 170
3.21-22 167 42.11-14 170 4 Ezra
7.24-27 167 45.6 150 7.129 152
15.17 152 50.26 191
Jubilees 15.65 272 Testament of Joseph

3.28 98 7.1 333
4.30 353 2 Maccabees
10.18 89, 94 4.12 262 Testament of Judah
10.22 94 4.13 262 15.6 352
23.21 72 5.25 315 15.3 352
25.3 184 6.21 315 20.1 150
30.1-17 186 6.24 315 21.9 353
30.18-20 186 6.25 315 25.3 89
30.25 180 12.3-9 272
31-32 186 12.29-31 272 Testament of Levi
31.2 189 14.14 272 1.2 346
31.5-30 187 2.5 346
4 Maccabees
31.5-20 186 7.1-4 191
6.15 315
31.29 189 17.8 352
6. 1 7 315
32.3-29 186 18 151
32.18-19 184 Odes of Solomon 18.10 145
49 381 17.9 147 18.11 145
33.7-8 148 19.1 143
Judith
10.5 240, 244 Psalms of Solomon Testament of Naphtali
12.1-4 240 17.3 337 3 343
5.1 346
Liber Antiquitatum Sibylline Oracles
Biblicarum 3.54-96 353 Testament of Reuben
25.8 190 5 292 3.5 353
25.10 189 5.46-50 301 5.5 353
32.2-4 136 5.414-433 88
5.424 88 Testament of Simeon
Life of Adam and Eve 5.501-3 87 2.13 346
49.3 353 8.399 147, 150
Tobit
1 Maccabees Testament of Abraham 1.3 148
2.45-48 272 11.2 147 1.10-11 240
5.67-68 272 1.16-18 183
9.23 263 Testament of Asher 4.5 148
12.53 272 1.3 143, 147 4.12 183
13.11 273 1.5 143, 147 4.16-17 183
13.25-30 269 2.8 352
13.41-43 269 7.7 352 Wisdom of Solomon
13.47-48 273 10.5 94
14.34 273 Testament of Benjamin 12.10 354
14.41ff. 270 8.23 352
QUMRAN
CD 1.13 75 1.25 92
1.1-2.1 51 1.14b-15a 62 3 48
1.5-12 96 1.16 73, 76, 77, 3.13ff. 45
1.11 51, 59 85,87 3.18ff. 86
1.13ff. 96 1.17 76 4 57
CD (cont.) 20.6-8 74 23.12 30

4.8b-9a 58 20.8 74 27.10 30
4.1 Ob 58 20.9 85 31.1 33
4.15 78 20.14f. 73 34.12 31
4.19 95 20.14 48, 51, 84 34.14 31
4.20-21 44 20.16f. 80,86 34.15 31,34
5.8 45 20.22-27 68, 69, 71, 35.8 31
5.16-19 98 82 35.9 31 34
5.1 8f. 86 20.22 67 37.33 30
5.20-6.1 56-57 20.22b-34 51 38.17 21
5.20 76,77 20.23f. 86 47.6 21
6 56, 57, 58 20.23 86 47.9 21
6.2b-lla 52 20.25-57 74 48.16 31
6.3b-lla 59 20.25 84 52.11 35
6.4 48 20.26f. 95 56.12 21
6.6a 44 20.27ff. 47,48 57.7 30,34
6.7 44, 57, 59, 20.27 75,86 64.8 21,26
62 20.27bff. 44 64.11 21,26
6.11 43, 48, 51, 20.28ff. 75 65.9 34
57, 58, 60 20.33 75
6.14b-7 44 20.34 75 1QM
6.15 97 17.5-6 336.
7.6 45 1QH 18.6 31
7.11ff. 81 4.8b-9a 53 19.11 32
7.20 59,60 5.5 64
8.4 85,97 5.6-8a 64 IQpMic
8.5 97 7b-8a 53 10.4-7 52
8.10-12 91
8.12 77 1QS
8.13 62 IQpHab 2.4bf. 334
9.2 44 2.1b-10a 62 2.4b-9 335
9.6-8 41 2.1b-3a 52 2.5 335
9.9 44 2.2 52 2.15-17 335
9.11 25 2.7-10a 52 2.25b-26 335
10.11 45 5.9b-12a 52 3.20-21 139
10.15 44 7.1-5a 52 4.10 311, 321
11.3 92 7.4-5a 62 5-7 41
11.6 92 8.1-3a 52 6.3 31
11.20 44 9.9-12a 52 6.6-7 47
12.19 45 10.4 35 6.6 31
12.23 45,48 10.9-10 62 7 42
12.23b-24a 57 10.9f. 82 8-10 54
14.1 81 11.4-8a 52 8.13 31
19.15 76,77 8.21ff. 74
19.31f. 77 IQIsa" 8.21f. 91
19.33b- 51 7.23 30 9.9-10 48
20.22a 13.20 30,35 9.1 5f. 75
20 47 13.21 30, 31, 34 9.16f. 47
20.2 44 16.6 21 10.16 25,33
20.3-8 75 19.20 96
20.3f. 74 20.6 34
4QAmram frag 4QpPsb 4Q287 334

1.9-15 334 1.4 52
2.3 334, 335 2.2 52
llQPs?
2.4-6 334
119.38 21
3.2 335 4QpNah
119.41 21
3-5 iii 1-5 95
119.43 21,26
4QFlor 3-4 iii 1-5 92, 335
119.96 21
1-3 1.11 59 3-4 iii 11- 67, 68, 69
119.107 21,26
335 iv 1
122.4 34
133.2 35
4QpP!?
4Q175 139.14 21
1-10 1.26a- 62
1 1o 28 310 142.7 21
Z.la
145.3 21
1-10 1.26b- 52
2.1a 4Q280
1-10 1.27 62 2 334, 335
11QT
52 22 335
1-10 3.15b- 32.10 34
17a 46.13 34
1-10 3.19 52 4Q286 56.15 95
1-10 4.8-10a 52 5 334 56.19 21
4.27 52 10 ii 334, 335 63.2 34
JOSEPHUS
Antiquities 15.255 273 War

1.70C 353 16.6.2 381 1.23 83
1.345 190 17.9.3 380 1.31-33 97
3.10.4 362 18.4.1 360 1.156 275
4.178 353 20.5.3 380 1.628 316
10.190-194 237 20.5.11 368 1.630 316
12.119-120 228 20.6.1 380 2.1.3 380
12.345-347 275 20.9.1 378 2.12.1 380
12.387 96 20.235f. 96 2.12.3 380
13.65 95 2.14.3 380
13.66-71 96,98 2.19.1 362
13.252 Contra Apionetn
273 1.1 * 2.123 238
-j -/"
j
13.262 275 2.587 316
13.285 95 2.50-52 95
2.190-219 240 2.591-592 229
13.318-319 273 2.592 227
13.319 274 6.5.3 362, 364
13.374 275 Vita 6.9.3 380, 381
13.378 276 74-6 230 7.421ff. 97
13.395-397 276 74 238, 239 7.432 97
15.3.3 362 86 360 7.436 96
PHILO
Against Flaccus 2.145-146 374 On the Posterity of Cain

3-4/8-23 379 2.204-13 380 89 98
4.183 314
De Abrahamo 36.287 300
56 185 Quaestiones in Exodum
1.23 150
De Plantatione Legum Allegoriae
37 146, 147 3.106 354
200 273 Quod Deus sit immutabilis
De Sobrietate 50 145, 151
65-66 185
On the Confusion of Tongues
De Specialibus Legibus 44 95 Vita Mosis
1.189 380 142-46 92 2.138 147
RABBINIC LITERATURE
Mishnah Tosefta Sotah

'Abodah Zarah 'Abodah Zarah 6.5 137
2.6 231 3.19 220 6.6 220
4.8 234, 239
Aboth Babylonian Talmud
2.4 204 'Abodah Zarah
Kelim
5.2 354 2.2 300 5a 212
5.3a 133 lOa 300
lOb 203
Demai Kippurim 17a 203
1.3 202 5.17L-V 220 18a 93, 203
5.17L-V 222 25b 300
Megillah 5.17V 221 27b 91
4.10C-D 220 35b-36a 232
Megillah 36a 243
Menahot 4.36-37 220 37a 231
13.10 ' 97
Menahot Baba Bathra
Oholoth 13 96 8a 202
17.7 374 12-15 96 14b 166
17.10 374 75 204
Sanhedrin Moed Baba Kamma

4.1 369, 375 11.36-38 208 59b 204
Shabbat Sanhedrin Berakhot

1.4 208, 238 7.11 121 20a 204
2.2 227 28b 144, 146,
Shabbat 147
Sukkoth 1.16 208, 210 31b 115
4.9 186 15.9 293 55a-57b 118
Berakhot (cont.) lOOb 167 Shabbat

56b 118 107a 92 1.4 208
1.5,3c 238
Gittin Shabbat 1.5,3d 244
7a 201 lOa 73 19.2,17a 302
58a 301 13b-17b 238
17a 208 Sheqalim
Hagigah 32a 203 1.1 209
13a 167 59b 204 5.1 205
15b 203 112b 200
139a 90 9.15 144
Hullin
5b 201 Sota Sukkah
6a 201 22b 312 54c 93
7a-b 193
7a 201 Sukkoth Ta'anit
89a 94 49a 98 4.8,68d 301
91a 202 4.8,69a 301
92b 202 Taanit
24a 201, 205 Yebamot
/Cett/feor 8.1,9a 302
28b 201 Yebamot 12.6 114
72a 302
Megillah 99b 201 Midrash
lOa 97 'Abot DeRabbi Nathan
Yoma 12 98
Menahot 9b 81 34 93
109ff. 96 23a 203 37 121, 123
110 96,97
109a 97 Palestinian Talmud Genesis Rabbah
'Abodah Zarah 1.1 108
Nedarim 7.5,4 178 1-10 166
49a 202 2.8,41d 235, 243, 6.4 81
8.6 136
Niddah Berakoth 21.5 144, 146,
1.61a 300 12.3 147 147
17a 202 31.12 136
Detnai 37.7 81
Pesa/nw 1.3 203 38.6 94, 95, 98
3b 203 3 202 38.7 77
9a 202 38.8 91
83b 202 Hagigah 46.13 302
1.7 113 55.4 136, 137
Sanhedrim 2.1. 77c 167 56.7 137
34b 166 56.11 137
38b 136 Nedarim 57-8 166
89a 132 1.1 189 59.11 204
89b 130, 136, 4.3 115 60.8 204
137 70.4 189
90b/91a 92 Sanhedrin 81-85 190
91 149 1.2 114 81.4 178
Genesis Rabbah (cont.) 35.9 182 58r.26-58vl 135

81.8 181, 189 35.11 183, 184, 59v.4-6 135
82.4 191 185, 191 59r.6-ll 135
88 167 35.14 185, 186 59v.6-9 135
35.21 187 59v.9-10 135
Leviticus Rabbah 48.4 184 59v.lO-15 135
10.3 218 59r.ll-22 134
10.3.1 218 Pseudo-Jonathan Exodus 59v.l5-16 135
10.3.2 218 24.10 185 59v.l6-23 135
10.3.3 218 33.16 185 59r.22-24 135
27.8 218 59v.23-60r.3 135
27.8.1 218 Pseudo-Jonathan 59r.24-59v.4 134
27.8.2 218 Deuteronomy 60v.l-3 135
27.8.3 218 18.14 185 60v.3-10 135
34.6 182 60r.3-7 135
Numbers Rabbah 60r.7-ll 135
17.2 137 Targum Jonathan Isaiah 60r.ll-12 135
11.4 333, 336 60r.l2-24 135
Deuteronomy Rabbah 60r.l8-24 131
4.3 142, 147 Targum Neofiti Genesis 60r.24-25 135
17.6 191 60r.25-60v.l 135
Ecclesiastes Rabbah 2o.j
"Ô ^
iyi
1 rtl
10.14 93 35.11 184, 191 Masseketh Semahot
9.9 144 48.4 191 deRabbi Hiyya
4.4 91
Lamentations Rabbah
1 33 211L Targum Onqelos Genesis
A.tJJ 4iL
iA ini 28.3 184 Mekhilta Bahodesh
Z.4 jlu
i *r inn 2 ' 210, 211,
3.O jOU
Other Rabbinic Writings 212
9 210, 211,
Eykhah Rabbah Petichta Homily
212
33 191 54r.5 133
58r.2-3 126, 135
Targums Mekhilta Beshallah
58v.2-3 134
7 220
Fragment Targum Genesis 58v.3-15 135
35.11 184 58r.3-4 127
Mekhilta Wayassa
48.4 184 58r.4-20 127, 128,
1 220
135
Pseudo-Jonathan Genesis 58r.4-16 129
Midrash Tehillim
28.11 181 58r.4-9 129 113 Q1
1*U x .1, 0^
7J
28.12 181 58r.5 136
22.28 98
28.17 181 58r.9-13 129 78 ?fl Q8
/ O.^fV/ XO
28.19 181 58r.l3-16 129
91.1 98
28.22 181 58V.15-20 134
92.9 98
34.31 177, 189 58r.l6-20 129, 130
35.1-5 175, 188 58r.20-23 135
Mishnat Rabbi Eliezer
35.1 176 58V.20-24 134
I-II 123
35.2 176, 180 58r.20-23 132
35.4 177 58r.23-25 134
Pesiqta deRabbi Kahana
35.7 176, 180 58v.24-59r.6 135
3.1 190
35.8 181 58r.25-26 135
Pesiqta Rabbati 71v.lO-17 135 43.3-4 220

3.4 191 71v.l7-21 135 319.3 210
12 94
12.4 190 Shaarei Sedeq Sifre Numbers
29/30-11 166 42al 94 1.10.2-3 210, 212
50.6 95 48a2 90 1.10.2 213
1.10.3 213
Pirqe DeRabbi Eliezer Sifra Leviticus 112 92
1-3 130 1 242
11 195 Sifre Pisqa
14 93 Sifra Sav, Mekhilta de- 53 142
15 142, 147 Miluim
24 24 1.1 213,218 Tanhuma
31 125, 126, 1.2 222 7 93
135 18 91
48 95 Sifra Shemini 24 98
69a.l2 135 1.3-5 213, 214 B24 91
69b.2 1.3 214, 216 28 93
69b.2-3 135 1.4 216
69b.3-10 134 1.5 217 Tanhuma Slah
69b.lO 134 1.8 213, 217 14 'l37
-Oa.4 27 137
70a.4-12 134 Sifre
70a.l2-14 135 53 147 Tanhuma Wayera'
70a. 13-20 134 18 136, 137
70a.20 134 Sifre Deuteronomy 42 136
-70b.6 1.9 208, 210
70b.ll-17 135 1.9.1-2 209 Tanhuma WayyiSlah
70b.l7 135 1.9.1 209 8 189
-71b.lO 1.10 208, 209,
71b.21 135 210 Zohar Genesis
-72a.l3 10.1 213 75b 90
CLASSICAL LITERATURE
Athenaeus Fortunatianus III. 7 123

Deipnosophistae Ars Rhetorica I
XI 493d 106 25 116 Hippolytus
Cicero
Artemidorus Ben. Jac.
III. 28 118 14 353
ProM. Tullio
IV. 24 118
21.50 122
Homer
Dio Gaius Iliad
Hist. Romano Anabasis XI 636f. 106
69.12.1 300 5.2.14 122
Pomponius
Epiphanius Hermogenes Digest
Panarion Haer. De Inventione 1.2.2.5 110
9.2.4 190 III. 5 123 1.2.2.12 110
Digest (cont.) 50.16.195 113 Quintilian

1.2.2.47-53 111 50.17 113 Institutio Oratoria
33.10.7.2 113 50.17.1 113 VII 8.3 116
50.16 113 50.17.9 113
50.16.6 113 50.17.56 113 Xenophanes Frag.
50.16.102 113 50.17.147 113 11 122
50.16.124 113
EARLY CHRISTIAN LITERATURE
Acta Petri et Pauli / Clement 10.5 330

35 353 20 330
81f. 353 31.3 191
Doctrina Apostolorum
31.4-32.2 191
1 147
Acts of Thomas 32 330
10 151 38 330
156 151 43 330 Ephrem (Syr.)
45 330 H. de Fide
Aphrahat (Syr.) 50 330 XX.14 152
Dem. 54 346
XII.8 151 58 330 de Nativitate
XIV.31 151 61 330 VIII.4 151
XXIII.3 151 64 330
65 330, 331
Augustine Comm. Gen.
Epistle Clementine Homilies II.7 151
ccxlv.2 190 VII 7.1-2 141
VII 7.1 147
Liber Graduum
Quaestionum in XVIII 17.2 141
XV.2 151
Heptateuchum
I 190 De Principiis
III.1.6 141
Hennas
In Joh. Ev. Tract. Mandates
114 381 Clement of Alexandria
Stromateis VI. 2.1 150
4 381
4.39.1 150
Epistle of Barnabas 6.8.7 150 Justin
4.3 353 Apology I
15.4 353 Didache 1.20 354
18 139, 143, 1-6 139 44.1 151
147 1 147, 150
1.1 139, 143
John Chrysostom 8.2 330 Apology II
Homily 9.2 330 1 354
LIX.4 190 9.3 330
9.4 330
In Joh. Homil. 10.2 330 Apostolic Constitution*
73.4 381 10.4 330 VII. 1.1 142
Origen Adversus Marcionem De praescriptione

Comm. Matt. 3.18 353 haereticorum
15.23 150 VII 120
de Castitate
Dialogue with 2.3 151 Theodotus
Heradeides Praeparatio Evangelica
27.11 150 de Monogamia 9.22.9 191
14.7 151
Tertullian
Adversus Judaeos
10 353
PAPYRI
Papyrus Lipsius Select Papyri 1086 106

34.8 337 II 380 1087 106
P. Lond. P. Oxy.
904 380 221 106, 107
INDEX OF AUTHORS
Abel, F.M. 299 Bowersock, G.W. 289, 299, 301, 302
Aberbach, M. 220, 223 Bregman, M. 97
Abrahams, I. 352 Bringmann, K. 278
Aharoni, Y. 34 Brockelmann, 325
Aistleitner, J. 34 Brooke, G. 49
Alan, G. 244, 287, 302 Brooks, C. 102
Albeck, H. 243 Buber, M. 301
Albeck,J.T. 91 BOchler, A. 186, 191, 204
Albright, W.F. 34 Burgmann, H. 98
Alexander, L.C.A. 124 Burney, 337
Alexander, P.S. 121, 123, 124 Butler, A.J. 98
Alexandre, M. 151
Applebaum, S. 244, 297, 298 Carmignac, J. 63, 64
Arenhoevel, D. 279 Carson, D.A. 121
Audet,J.-P. 140,149,150 Chaine, J. 354
Aufrecht, W.E. 188 Charles, R.H. 43, 50, 97, 328, 353
Aune, D.E. 149 Charlesworth, J.H. 95,98
Avigad, N. 279 Chase, F.H. 329, 330
Avi-Yonah,M. 190 Chester, A. 181, 182, 189, 190,191
Clark, S. 121
Baltzer, K. 140 Clarke, E.G. 188
Barag, D. 381 Cochrane, C.N. 120
Barr,J. 121 Cohen, SJ.D. 303
Earth, L. 136, 138 Collins, JJ. 278, 301, 302
Bauckham, R. 353 Collins, M.F. 190
Baumgarten, J. 37, 49, 92, 172 Cowley, A.E. 171, 172
Baumgartner, W. 22, 33 Cross, F.M. 33, 34
Beek, M.A. 96
Beeston, A.F.L. 33, 34
Beilner, W. 324 Dalman, G. 333
Benoit, P. 244 Dan,J. 138
Berger, A. 122 Danielou,J. 150,151
Ben-Shalom, I. 244, 301 Bar, S. 243
Betz, O. 380 Daube, D. 123
Bickerman, E. 269,. 278, 279, 296, 380 Davies, P.R. 49, 50, 54, 56, 57, 58, 59,
Bickhoff-BOttcher, N. 297 60, 64, 89, 92, 93, 94, 95
Bigg, C. 352 Delcor, M. 96, 152
Black, M. 313, 337 Denis, A.-M. 89, 352
Bloom, H. 102 Derrett, J.D.M. 353, 354
Bogaert, P.-M. 179, 190 Derrida,]. 103
Boman, T. 121 De Vaux, R. 244
Borakamm, G. 324, 325, 326 Diels, H. 122
Bosworth, A.B. 280 Di Leila, A.A. 171, 172
DiezMacho, A. 189 Handelman, S. 102,121

Dimitrovsky, Z. 203 Harrington, D.J. 189,190
Dodd, C.H. 380 Harvey, A.E. 353
Donner, H. 34, 301 Hatch, E. 324
Doran, R. 279 Hayward, R. 87, 96, 97, 136
Droysen, J.G. 263, 278 Heinemann, I. 278
Duhaime,J. 97 Heinemann, J. 203
Dupont-Sommer, A. 53, 63, 64 Heltzer, M. 243
Hengel, M. 263, 278, 289, 291, 296,
Efird, J.M. 308, 320, 326 297, 298, 299, 302, 380
Eitman, D. 243 Higger, M. 91
Elbogen, I. 336 Hill, 284,298,299
Ellis, F.T. 299 Hirzel, S. 122
Elmbaum, 138 Hoenig, S.B. 238, 243, 244
Epstein, J.N. 203 Hoftijzer, J. 29, 34
Hollander, H.W. 150
Falk, 95 Holm-Nielsen, S. 54, 64
Palmer, W. 353 Horgan, 95
Faur,J. 102 Hornblower, S. 279
Faur, R. 121 Horowitz, M. 135, 136, 223
Finkelstein, L. 223 Hultgard, A. 145, 151
Fischer, T. 298, 303 Hupfeld, H. 34
Fitzmyer, J.A. 49 Hurd,J.C. 188
Flusser, D. 381 Hyman, A. 191,192
Fornberg, T. 353
Frankel,J. 138 Isaac, B. 284, 285, 287, 288, 289, 290,
Fraser, P.M. 122 293, 298, 299, 300, 301, 302, 303
Freud, S. 117,123
Friedlander, G. 136, 138 Jeansonne, S.P. 96
Jeremias, G. 63, 95
Garcia Martinez, F. 55, 61, 62, 64, 338 Jeremias, J. 327, 328, 336, 337
Gaylord, H.E. 95 Johnson, L.T. 380
Geiger, A. 97 Jones, A.H.M. 277, 287, 280
Gellis,J. 90 Jonge, M. de 150, 352, 354
Geva, H. 279 Joilon, P. 309, 310, 311, 313, 324, 326
Gibb, H.A.R. 324
Ginzberg, L. 38, 49, 89, 90 Kahle, 148
Golan, D. 298 Kamlah, E. 150
Golb, N. 38, 42, 49 Kapuscinski, R. 17
Goldberg, A. 166 KSsemann, E. 352, 353, 354
Goldstein,]. 95 Kasher, A. 98, 277, 279
Goodblatt, D. 291, 301 Kasher, M. 189, 190,191
Goodman, M. 244, 279, 381 Kee, H. 352
Gordon, C.H. 32 Kern, B.A.A. 166
Green, W.S. 49 Kindler, A. 298
Green Spoon, L.J. 151 Kister, M. 172, 173
Greenwald, L. 203 Klein, G. 149,190,191
Grundmann, W. 352 Knibb, M.A. 63, 64
Guthrie, D. 380 Knierim, R. 324, 325
Knight, G.A. 50
Hammer, R. 221, 223 Kobelski, P.J. 333, 334, 335, 338
Index of Authors 405
Kokkinos, N. 380 Mommsen, T. 122

Krammers, J.H. 324 Montefiore, C.G. 328
Kranz, W. 122 Montgomery, 96
Kristianpoller, A. 123 Mulder, M.J. 121
Kiichler, M. 352 Munck,J. 353
Kuhn, K.G. 33 Murphy-O'Connor, J. 50, 58, 60, 64,
Kuhrt, A. 261, 278 82, 89, 92, 95
Kutscher, E.Y. 22, 23, 24, 25, 33, 35 Murray, R. 151,152
Lacocque, A. 92, 96 Nelson, M.P. 173

Leahy, T. 26 Neubauer, A. 171, 172
Leaney, A.R.C. 50 Neusner, J. 95, 162, 163,164,166, 221,
Le Deaut, R. 152, 190, 192 222, 223, 244
Lehmann, M.R. 50,92 Neyrey,J.H. 92, 353,354
Lehrs, K. 106
Niehoff,M. 192
Lenel, O. 122
Naldeke, T. 34
Leszynsky, R. 43, 50
Levi, I. 43, 50
Levine, B.A. 39, 49 Ghana, M. 189
Levine, L.I. 244 Oppenheim, A. 124
Levine, L.J. 299 Oppenheimer, A. 244, 285, 287, 288,
Levy,J. 325 289, 290, 293, 294, 297, 298, 300,
Lew, M.S. 220 301, 302, 303
Lewy, H. 123
Lignee, H. 53, 63 Pankhurst, R. 17
Ueberman, S. 105,117, 119,122,123, Patai, R. 192
124,137,172,173, 221, 223, 278 Peacock, D.P.S. 243
Ughtfoot,J. 329 Perrot, C.
Upshitz, B. 299 Pfeiffer, R. 121
Lohmeyer, E. 328, 332, 336, 337 Pflaum, H.-G. 298
Luria, D. 136 Philonenko, M. 150
Pofin,J. 191
MacDonald,J. 192 Porton, G. 220, 223
Manson, T.W. 328 Pouilly,J. 50
Marcus, R. 96, 243 Prigent, P. 152
Margoliouth, G. 43
Marmorstein, A. 220, 223 Qimron, E. 22, 23, 24, 33, 63, 64
Martin,J. 123
Mattingly, D.J. 243 Rabbinowitz, J. 220
Mayor, J.B. 352 Rabello, A.M. 294, 295, 298
Meir, O. 138 Rabin, C. 25, 38, 49, 71, 76, 89, 91, 92,
Meshorer, Y. 279, 299 94,95
Meyer, 96 Rappaport, U. 279. 297, 301, 302
Meyers, C. 171 Rea,J.R. 298
Michaelis, W. 152 Reeves, J.C. 63
Mildenberg, 298, 299, 302, 303, 307 Reich, R. 279
Milgrom,J. 49 Riccobono, S. 122
Milik, J.T. 244, 333, 334, 337, 338 Richards, K.H. 50
Milikowsky, C. 138 Riemer,J. 352
Millar, F. 278, 279, 300 Robinson, J.A. 139, 140
Momigliano, A.D. 279 Robinson, J.A.T. 374, 380, 381
Roll, I. 284, 287, 298, 299, 300 Sutcliffe, E.F. 50

R6llig, W. 34
Rordorf, W. 149 Ta-Shema, 91
Rostovtzeff, M. 300 Taylor, C. 139, 149
Roth, C. 353 Tcherikover, V. 95, 96, 269, 278, 279
Rowley, H.H. 96 Thiede, C.P. 354
Rubinstein, A. 90 Tov, E. 33, 35
Rzach, A. 302 Trenchard, W.C. 171
Tucker, G.M. 50
Safrai, S. 381 Tuckett, C.M. 121
Sanders, E.P. 381 Turner, E.G. 122
Sanders, J.A. 33
Sauer, G. 172 VanderKam, J.C. 50
Schafer, P. 297, 299, 300, 301, 303 Vermes, G. 25, 63, 90, 97, 121, 125,
Schechter, S. 38, 49, 90, 97 189, 190, 244, 325, 351
Schiffinan, L. 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, Von Allmen, D. 354
44, 45, 46, 49, 50
Schlatter, A. 327 Wacholder, B.-Z. 49, 96
Schulz, F. 105, 109, 112,122,124 Waldberg, S. 166
Schiirer, E. 189, 269, 279, 298, 338, Wallace-Hadrill, A. 279
352 Watson, A. 122
Schwartz, O.J.R. 91 Weinfeld, M. 40, 41, 42, 45, 50
Schwarz, J. 186,191 Weiss, I.H. 223
Seeberg, A. 149 Wenning, R. 298, 299, 302, 303
Segal, J.B. 381 Wernberg-M011er, P. 92, 93, 94, 97, 325
Segal, M.H. 171 Westcott, B.F. 329, 330
Sherwin-White, A.N. 380, 381 White,J. 352
Sherwin-White, S. 261, 278 White, RJ. 123
Shinan, A. 182, 189, 190, 191 Wikenhauser, A. 380
Skehan, P.W. 171,172 Wilckens, V. 316, 320, 324, 325, 326
Smallwood, E.M. 299 Williams, D.F. 243
Smolar, L. 220, 223 Williamson, H.G.M. 121
Sparks, H.F.D. 352 Winter, P. 380
Sperber, A. 188 Wolfson, E. 90
Spicq, C. 353 Wolfson, H.A. 279
Spiegel, S. 137 Woude, A.S. van der 89, 90
Spiro, A. 190 Wright, W. 33
Spitzer, F. 188 Wytzes,J. 150
Splansky, D.M. 189
Stampfer, N. 352 Yadin, Y. 33, 39, 49, 63, 172, 338
Stanley, A.P. 353 Yalon, H. 172, 173
Stegemann, H. 49, 82, 93, 94 Yasif, E. 171
Steinfeld, Z.A. 244 Young, F.W. 308, 309, 315, 321, 326
Stern, M. 279, 280
Stone, M. 279 Zeran, A. 190
Strugnell, J. 63, 64, 172 Zucchelli, B. 324
Suggs, M.J. 149 Zulay, M. 190

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JOURNAL FOR THE STUDY OF THE OLD TESTAMENT

Essays on Jewish and Christian

Journal for the Study of the Old Testament

Published by JSOT Press

Typeset by Sheffield Academic Press

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

A tribute to Geza Vermes: essays on Jewish and Christian

II. DEAD SEA SCROLLS

III. TARGUMS AND RABBINICA

IV. JUDAISM AND CHRISTIANITY IN HISTORY

BIBLIOGRAPHY OF GEZA VERMES 383

Index of Ancient References 389

PG Migne, Patrologia Graeca

In August 1988 the Countess of Avon (the widow of Anthony Eden,

Inscription kept in the Emperor Suite of the Grand Hotel, Eastbourne,

is occasionally spelt without aleph (see below) points in the same

biblical documents on the biblical ones is hard to explain: what

testify to at? in the locative sense, whereas in Moabite (closely similar

contrary to common usage in BH. The material is complex and

with it the dual (locative and local-terminative) function of these

1. See Gesenius/Buhl's Handworterbuch (1921), p. 392, and Brown/

the accusative case to form adverbs in classical Arabic, see W. Wright, A

of the word as a place-name (so Professor Beeston orally). I have therefore

I have adapted the title of this article from L. Schiffman's important

paperwhat I shall mean by 'halakhah', which is: a body of law

Mention of the 'Qumran sect' introduces the second problematic

notion of a 'halakhah at Qumran' was meaningful whether or not it

(a) The Problem

formulation of the question. The question cannot be whether 11QT

When first unrolled, and in the publications of Professor Yadin, it

The second dispute to which I refer is between Schiffinan and

and certainly invites an analysis of this kind of legislation from a

This passage is cited by Weinfeld, p. 40, who acknowledges that here

interpretation of scripture'Weinfeld is even able to identify the

provenance of the Scrolls, which provides a much better methodology

As a point of departure for the present contribution to 'halakhah'

From my conclusions about the clear distinction between the

Obedience to the law is here coupled with obedience to the Teacher,

water required for purification (10.11). Doubtless several of these

of conjecture and special pleading. (A notorious example is the case

reference to trangression of the 'law of Moses' and the 'precepts of

former judgments (mispdtim hdri'sdnim} by which the men of the

I hope I have here prepared the ground for an examination of the

legal authority subsisting in each text. This authority is essentially

1. L.H. Schiffinan, The Halakhah at Qumran, Leiden: Brill, 1975.

of'the liar'. In addition, the teacher is apparently also mentioned in

above centre around a small number of themes: the role of the

from the withdrawal to Qumran. Of the other writings, the Temple

that it will be possible to make a judgment about where exactly this

foundation of the community remain valid 'until the completion of

he also appropriated the title Prince of all the Congregation from

6.3b-lla), as part of the explanation of the various elements in Num.

to be sought in the teaching given by the teacher. This point has

How is it possible to explain the emergence within the Essene

1. See M. A. Knibb, The Qumran Community (Cambridge Commentaries

30. Folia Orientalia 25 (1988), pp. 120-23.

One of the more perplexing problems of the non-biblical Dead Sea

Damascus Document (CD) 20.22-27

4QpNah 3-4 iii 11-iv 1