Homenaje Whaybray PDF

JOURNAL FOR THE STUDY OF THE OLD TESTAMENT
SUPPLEMENT SERIES
162
Editors
David J.A. Clines
Philip R. Davies
Editorial Board
Richard J. Coggins, Alan Cooper, Tamara C. Eskenazi,
J. Cheryl Exum, Robert P. Gordon, Norman K. Gottwald,
Andrew D.H. Mayes, Carol Meyers, Patrick D. Miller
JSOT Press
Sheffield
Of Prophets' Visions
and the
Wisdom of Sages
Essays in Honour of
R. Norman Whybray
on his Seventieth Birthday
edited by
Heather A. McKay
and David J.A. Clines
Journal for the Study of the Old Testament

Supplement Series 162
Copyright© 1993 Sheffield Academic Press
Published by JSOT Press

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

and
Printed on acid-free paper in Great Britain
by Biddies Ltd
Guildford
Production Editor Typesetter

J. Webb Mealy Robert Knight
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Of Prophets' Visions and the Wisdom of

Sages: Essays in Honour of R. Norman
Whybray on his Seventieth Birthday.—(JSOT
Supplement Series, ISSN
0309-0787; No. 162)
I. McKay, Heather A. II. Clines, David
J.A. III. Series
221.6
ISBN 1-85075-423-3
CONTENTS
Abbreviations 9
Contributors to This Volume 13
Michael A. Knibb
R. Norman Whybray: A Biographical Sketch 15
Publications of R. Norman Whybray 19
PROPHECY
Andrew D.H. Mayes
Prophecy and Society in Israel 25
Lester L. Grabbe
Prophets, Priests, Diviners and Sages in Ancient Israel 43
Robert P. Gordon
From Mari to Moses:
Prophecy at Mari and in Ancient Israel 63
Richard J. Coggins
Prophecy—True and False 80
Hugh G.M. Williamson

First and Last in Isaiah 95
6 Of Prophets' Visions and the Wisdom of Sages
Knud Jeppesen
Mother Zion, Father Servant: A Reading of Isaiah 49-55 109
Anthony Gelston
Knowledge, Humiliation or Suffering:
A Lexical, Textual and Exegetical Problem in Isaiah 53 126
David J.A. Clines

Metacommentating Amos 142
WISDOM
James L. Crenshaw
Wisdom Literature: Retrospect and Prospect 161
John Eaton
Memory and Encounter: An Educational Ideal 179
Athalya Brenner
Some Observations on the Figurations of Woman in
Wisdom Literature 192
Ronald E. Clements
The Good Neighbour in the Book of Proverbs 209
Walter Brueggemann
Psalm 37: Conflict of Interpretation 229
Tryggve N.D. Mettinger

Intertextuality: Allusion and Vertical Context Systems
in Some Job Passages 257
Contents 7
PENTATEUCH
J. Alberto Soggin
Judah and Tamar (Genesis 38) 281
Henri Gazelles
Les milieux du Deuteronome 288
Michael D. Goulder
Ruth: A Homily on Deuteronomy 22-25? 307
Index of Biblical References 320

Index of Authors 330
This page intentionally left blank
ABBREVIATIONS
AB Anchor Bible
AEM Archives 6pistolaires de Mart
AHw W. von Soden, Akkadisches Handworterbuch
ANET J.B. Pritchard (ed.), Ancient Near Eastern Texts
ARM Archives royales de Man
ArOr Archiv orientdlni
ATD Das Alte Testament Deutsch
BA Biblical Archaeologist
BBB Bonner biblische Beitrage
BDB F. Brown, S.R. Driver and C.A. Briggs, Hebrew and
English Lexicon of the Old Testament
BETL Bibliotheca ephemeridum theologicarum lovaniensium
BHK R. Kittel (ed.), Biblia hebraica
BHS Biblia hebraica stuttgartensia
Bib Biblica
BJRL Bulletin of the John Rylands University Library of
Manchester
BK Bibel und Kirche
BKAT Biblischer Kommentar: Altes Testament
BN Biblische Notizen
BR Biblical Research
BWANT Beitrage zur Wissenschaft vom Alten und Neuen
Testament
BZ Biblische Zeitschrift
BZAW Beihefte zur ZAW
CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly
CBQMS Catholic Biblical Quarterly, Monograph Series
ConBOT Coniectanea biblica, Old Testament
CTA A. Herdner, Corpus des tablettes en cun£iformes
alphabetiques
CQR Church Quarterly Review
DBSup Dictionnaire de la Bible, Supplement
EBib Etudes bibliques
EncJud Encyclopedia Judaica
ETL Ephemerides theologicae lovanienses
ExpTim Expository Times
FOTL The Forms of the Old Testament Literature
FRLANT Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und
Neuen Testaments
HALAT W. Baumgartner et al., Hebraisches und aramaisches
Lexikon zum Alten Testament
HBT Horizons in Biblical Theology
HKAT Handkommentar zum Alten Testament
HSM Harvard Semitic Monographs
HUCA Hebrew Union College Annual
HTR Harvard Theological Review
ICC International Critical Commentary
IDBSup IDE, Supplementary Volume
IEJ Israel Exploration Journal
JAAR Journal of the American Academy of Religion
JAOS Journal of the American Oriental Society
JCS Journal of Cuneiform Studies
JBL Journal of Biblical Literature
JNES Journal of Near Eastern Studies
JQR Jewish Quarterly Review
JSOT Journal for the Study of the Old Testament
JSOTSup Journal for the Study of the Old Testament,
Supplement Series
JSP Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha
JSS Journal of Semitic Studies
KAI H. Dormer and W. Rollig, Kanaandische und
aramdische Inschriften
KAT Kommentar zum Alten Testament
KHAT Kurzer Hand-Commentar zum Alten Testament
MHUC Monographs of the Hebrew Union College
NABU Nouvelles assyriologiques breves et utilitaires
NCB New Century Bible
NICOT New International Commentary on the Old Testament
NRSV New Revised Standard Version
OBO Orbis biblicus et orientalis
Or Orientalia
OrAnt Oriens antiquus
OTG Old Testament Guides
OTL Old Testament Library
OTS Oudtestamentische Studien
PTMS Pittsburch Theological Monograph Series
RA Revue d'assyriologie et d'archeologie orientale
RB Revue biblique
ResQ Restoration Quarterly
RV Revised Version
SBLDS SBL Dissertation Series
Abbreviations 11
SBS Stuttgarter Bibelstudien
SBT Studies in Biblical Theology
ScrH Scripta Hierosolymitana
SEA Svensk exegetisk arsbok
SJOT Scandinavian Journal of the Old Testament
SJT Scottish Journal of Theology
SOTSMS Society for Old Testament Study Monograph Series
SR Studies in Religion I Sciences religieuses
SUNT Studien zur Umwelt des Neuen Testaments
THAT Theologisches Handworterbuch zum Alien Testament
ThWAT G.J. Botterweck and H. Ringgren (eds.), Theologisches
Worterbuch zum Alien Testament
VF Verktindigung und Forschung
VT Vetus Testamentum
VTSup Vetus Testamentum, Supplements
WMANT Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und
Neuen Testament
ZAW Zeitschrift fur die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft
ZDMG Zeitschrift der deutschen morgenlandischen Gesellschaft
ZDPV Zeitchrift des deutschen Palastina-Vereins
ZTK Zeitschrift fur Theologie und Kirche
CONTRIBUTORS TO THIS VOLUME
Athalya Brenner is Senior Lecturer in the Department of

General Studies at the Technion, Israel Institute of
Technology, Haifa, Israel, and Professor of Feminism and
Christianity at the Catholic University of Nijmegen, The
Netherlands
Walter Brueggemann is Professor of Old Testament, Columbia
Theological Seminary, Decatur, Georgia.
Henri Gazelles is Professeur honoraire a 1'Institut Catholique,
and Directeur d'Etudes a 1'Ecole Pratique des Hautes
Etudes, Paris.
Ronald Clements was formerly Samuel Davidson Professor of
Old Testament Studies, King's College, London, University
of London.
David Clines is Professor of Old Testament, University of
Sheffield.
Richard Coggins is Senior Lecturer in Old Testament Studies,
King's College, London, University of London.
James Crenshaw is Robert L. Flowers Professor of Old Testa-
ment, Duke University, Durham, North Carolina.
John Eaton was formerly Reader in Old Testament Studies,
University of Birmingham.
Anthony Gelston is Reader in Theology, University of
Durham.
Robert Gordon is Lecturer in Divinity, University of
Cambridge.
Michael Goulder is Professor of Biblical Studies, University of
Birmingham.
Lester Grabbe is Head of Department of Theology and
currently Dean of Humanities, University of Hull.
Knud Jeppesen is Lecturer in Old Testament Studies,

University of Aarhus, Denmark.
Michael Knibb is Professor of Old Testament Studies, King's
College, London, University of London.
Heather McKay is Senior Lecturer in Religious Studies, Edge
Hill College, Ormskirk, Lancashire.
Andrew Mayes is Professor of Hebrew, University of Dublin,
and Fellow of Trinity College.
Tryggve Mettinger is Professor of Old Testament Studies,
Lund University, Sweden.
Alberto Soggin is Professor of Hebrew Language and
Literature, University of Rome.
Hugh Williamson is Regius Professor of Hebrew at the
University of Oxford and Student of Christ Church.
r Nrman whtbtay
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
Michael A. Knibb
Norman Whybray was born on 26 July 1923 at East Molesey,

Surrey, and received his secondary education at Kingston
Grammar School. He went up to Oxford on a State Scholar-
ship in 1941 and, under war-time conditions, read French in
the Honour School of Modern Languages, Part I, and then
transferred to Theology. He underwent ordination training at
Lincoln theological College in 1944-45 and was ordained
Deacon in the Church of England in 1946, and Priest in 1947.
After a curacy at St Michael's, Basingstoke, Norman held
teaching posts at the General Theological Seminary, New
York, and at the Queen's College, Birmingham, and was then
appointed Professor of Old Testament and Hebrew at Central
Theological College, Tokyo, in 1952. He remained there until
1965, although he did return to Oxford for a two-year period
in 1960 to read for a DPhil under G.R. Driver; the thesis that
he wrote was subsequently published under the title Wisdom
in Proverbs: The Concept of Wisdom in Proverbs 1-9 (1965).
He returned permanently to England in 1965 to take up a
post as Lecturer in the Department of Theology at the
University of Hull; he was promoted to Reader in 1969, and
was appointed Professor of Hebrew and Old Testament
Studies in 1978. In normal circumstances Norman might have
been expected to remain in post for some time. But in the
stringent and difficult circumstances that affected all British
universities in the early eighties Norman took the decision to
retire early. He was appointed Emeritus Professor by the
University of Hull in 1982, and he and Mary then moved to
Ely, where they have remained ever since.
The circumstances of his early career led to the fact that

Norman was already in his early forties by the time that his
first book (Wisdom in Proverbs) appeared. But since then a
constant stream of books and articles has issued from him,
and in total these represent a remarkable scholarly achieve-
ment. A major part of his work has formed a continuation of
his early concern with the Old Testament wisdom tradition,
and what is perhaps his most important book in this area, The
Intellectual Tradition in the Old Testament (1974), repre-
sented a significant challenge to received views about the role
of the 'wise' in Israel. But he has also published two valuable
commentaries, on Proverbs (1972), and on Ecclesiastes (1989),
while his monograph on the Succession Narrative (1968), in
which he emphasized the connections with scribal wisdom
literature, should also be mentioned in this context. Norman's
other major concern has been with Old Testament prophecy,
particularly the book of Isaiah. His important commentary on
Isaiah 40-66 (1975) was accompanied by two monographs
that were concerned with problems raised by this section of
the book. The first, The Heavenly Counsellor in Isaiah xl 13-
14 (1971), which happened to be the first in the unfortunately
short-lived Society for Old Testament Study Monograph
Series, is a detailed examination of the theological significance
of this passage within the context of Second Isaiah. The second,
Thanksgiving for a Liberated Prophet: An Interpretation of
Isaiah 53 (1978), offers both radical criticism of traditional
interpretations of the meaning of this chapter, and an original
interpretation of his own. But Norman's interests have not
been confined just to prophecy and wisdom, and reference
ought to be made here to his The Making of the Pentateuch: A
Methodological Study (1987), which forms a valuable contri-
bution to the debate, which has revived over the past two
decades, concerning the origin of the Pentateuch.
This is not the place to try to offer a detailed evaluation of
Norman Whybray's scholarly achievement, an achievement
represented both by the books and monographs mentioned
above and by his numerous articles. But perhaps it may be
said here that in all his published work Norman has shown
originality of thought, a willingness to challenge received
R. Norman Why bray 17
opinions, careful attention to detail, clarity of exposition,
and—a quality often lacking in scholars—common sense.
Norman Whybray has played a major role in the affairs of
the Society for Old Testament Study since his return to this
country in 1965. He has regularly attended meetings of the
Society, where he has been a source of wise advice and has
become a father-figure to many members of the Society. He
has served on more than one occasion on the Committee of the
Society. He was Editor of the Society's Book List from 1974 to
1980, and, although he followed a distinguished line of
editors, it is fair to say that under his editorship the coverage
received by the List and its standing in the scholarly world
increased considerably. He is currently Editor of the very
helpful series of Old Testament Guides, which are published
under the joint imprint of JSOT Press and the Society for Old
Testament Study, and he has himself written two of these
guides. And he was elected President of the Society for 1982
and in that year presided over a memorable Summer meeting
at the University of Hull. Those who were present at the
meeting will not forget the marvellous tea that he and Mary
generously provided on the lawn of their home at Hull. The
meeting at Hull happened to coincide with Norman's retire-
ment from his chair and formed a fitting climax to his career
at Hull. It also followed a year after the well-deserved award
to him by the University of Oxford of the degree of Doctor of
Divinity.
In his personal life Norman Whybray has had to bear a
double blow, and he has done so with characteristic fortitude.
His first wife Helene died in 1978 after a protracted illness,
and then in 1990 his adopted son Peter also died. Those who
know Norman are aware how much he was affected by the
deaths of Helene and Peter. But they were also very pleased
that after the death of Helene he met again an old friend,
Mary, whom he had first known many years previously, and
that they married in 1979.
For the past decade Norman and Mary have made their
home in Ely, where they are frequently visited by friends and
colleagues and by Mary's daughters. All alike benefit from
very generous hospitality, while Old Testament colleagues
also benefit from shrewd advice on Old Testament matters.
While they have been at Ely, Mary has become steadily more
involved in the local community, and Norman has continued
with a very productive schedule of writing and editing. It is
the earnest wish of all their friends and colleagues that they
should both continue to flourish in their life together at Ely
for many years to come.
PUBLICATIONS OF R. NORMAN WHYBRAY
Books
The Church Serves Japan (London: Society for the Propaga-
tion of the Gospel, 1956).
Gendai no Kyuyakuseisho Kenkyu Gaikan [A Survey of Mod-
ern Study of the Old Testament] (Tokyo: Kyobunkwan,
1961).
Wisdom in Proverbs: The Concept of Wisdom in Proverbs 1-9
(SET, 45; London: SCM Press, 1965).
The Succession Narrative: A Study of II Sam. 9-20 and I
Kings 1 and 2 (SET, 2/9; London: SCM Press, 1968).
The Heavenly Counsellor in Isaiah xl 13-14: A Study of the
Sources of the Theology of Deutero-Isaiah (SOTSMS, 1;
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1971).
The Book of Proverbs (The Cambridge Bible Commentary;
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1972); Shingen
(trans. H. Matsuura; Tokyo: Shinkyo Shuppansha, 1983).
The Intellectual Tradition in the Old Testament (BZAW, 135;
Berlin: de Gruyter, 1974).
Isaiah 40-66 (NCB; London: Oliphants, 1975).
Thanksgiving for a Liberated Prophet: An Interpretation of
Isaiah Chapter 53 (JSOTSup, 4: Sheffield: JSOT Press,
1978).
Two Jewish Theologies: An Inaugural Lecture (Hull: Univer-
sity of Hull Press, 1980).
The Second Isaiah (OTG; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1983).
The Making of the Pentateuch: A Methodological Study
(JSOTSup, 53; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1987).
Ecclesiastes (NCB: Grand Rapids: Eerdmans; London:
Marshall, Morgan & Scott, 1989).
Ecclesiastes (OTG; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1989).
Wealth and Poverty in the Book of Proverbs (JSOTSup, 99;
Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1990).
Articles
The Old Testament Concept of Corporate Personality and its
Significance for Christian Doctrine' [Japanese], Shingaku
no Koe (Tokyo) 2/1 (1956), pp. 1-14.
The Dead Sea Scrolls and Christianity* [Japanese], Shingaku
no Koe (Tokyo) 4/3 (1958), pp. 9-16.
The Church in the Old Testament' [Japanese], Shingaku no
Koe (Tokyo) 5/2 (1958), pp. 1-9.
'A Guide for Readers of the Book of Genesis' [Japanese],
Shingaku no Koe (Tokyo) 6/3 (1960), pp. 1-9.
'A Graduate Seminary Library in the Mission Field', Library
Trends (Illinois) 9/2 (1960), pp. 186-93.
The Church at the Crossroads', Worldwide (London: SPCK)
46 (1961), pp. 1-8.
'Some Historical Limitations of Hebrew Kingship', CQR 163
(1961-62), pp. 136-50.
'National And/Or Catholic', in On the Move to Unity:
Cambridge Sermons on the Anglican Approach (ed.
J.E. Fison; London: SCM Press, 1962), pp. 29-34.
'Our Liturgical Heritage: The Psalms' [Japanese], Shingaku
no Koe (Tokyo) 7/2 (1963), pp. 1-15.
'Canaanite Creation Myth', ExpTim 74 (1963), p. 309.
'Ecumenical Prospects in Japan', Faith and Unity (London:
SPCK) 8/3 (1964), pp. 35-36.
'Proverbs viii 22-31 and its Supposed Prototypes', VT 15
(1965), pp. 504-14; repr. in Studies in Ancient Israelite
Wisdom (ed. J.L. Crenshaw; New York: Ktav, 1976),
pp. 390-400.
'Ecumenical Relations in Japan', Network (London: SPG),
1966.
'Some Literary Problems in Proverbs i-ix', VT 16 (1966),
pp. 482-96.
'may in Exodus xxxii 18', VT 17 (1967), p. 122.
The Joseph Story and Pentateuchal Criticism', VT 18 (1968),
pp. 522-28.
' "Their Wrongdoings" in Psalm 99.8', ZAW 81 (1969), pp. 237-
39.
Publications ofR. Norman Why bray 21
The United Monarchy', in A Source Book of the Bible for
Teachers (ed. R.C. Walton; London: SCM Press, 1970),
pp. 121-27; repr. in A Basic Introduction to the Old Testa-
ment (ed. R.C. Walton; London: SCM Press, 1980), pp. 95-
104.
The Divided Kingdom', in A Source Book of the Bible for
Teachers (ed. R.C. Walton; London: SCM Press, 1970),
pp. 127-33; repr. in A Basic Introduction to the Old Testa-
ment (ed. R.C. Walton; London: SCM Press, 1980),
pp. 105-14.
'Proverbs, Book of, in The Interpreter's Dictionary of the
Bible. Supplementary Volume (Nashville: Abingdon,
1976), pp. 702-704.
'A Response to Professor Rendtorff 's "The Tahwist' as Theo-
logian? The Dilemma of Pentateuchal Criticism"', JSOT 3
(1977), pp. 11-14.
'Qoheleth the Immoralist? (Qoh 7:16-17)', in Israelite Wisdom:
Theological and Literary Essays in Honor of Samuel Ter-
rien (ed. J.G. Gammie, W.A. Brueggemann et a/.; Missoula,
MT: Scholars Press, 1978), pp. 191-204.
'2 Samuel 11.1-12.31: King David's Seduction of Bath-Sheba
and its Consequences', in Readings in Biblical Hebrew, II
(ed. J.H. Eaton; Birmingham: Department of Theology,
University of Birmingham, 1978), pp. 29-44.
'Slippery Words: IV. Wisdom', ExpTim 89 (1977-78), pp. 359-
62.
'Conservatisme et radicalisme dans Qohelet', in Sagesse et reli-
gion: Colloque de Strasbourg (octobre 1976) (ed. E. Jacob;
Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1979), pp. 65-81.
Tahweh-Sayings and their Contexts in Proverbs, 10,1-
22,16', in La Sagesse de I'Ancien Testament (ed.
M. Gilbert; BETL, 51; Gembloux: Duculot; Leuven: Leu-
ven University Press, 1979), pp. 153-65 (2nd edn, Leuven:
Peeters and Leuven University Press, 1990, with additions
on pp. 411-12).
'Reflections on Canonical Criticism', Theology 84 (1981),
pp. 29-35.
'Ordinary Time: Thirteenth to Twentythird Sundays', in This
is the Word of the Lord: The Year of Mark (Year B) (ed.
R. Duckworth; Oxford: Bible Reading Fellowship and
Oxford University Press, 1981), pp. 114-38.
The Identification and Use of Quotations in Ecclesiastes', in
Congress Volume, Vienna 1980 (ed. J.A. Emerton; VTSup,
32; Leiden: Brill, 1981), pp. 435-51.
'Qoheleth, Preacher of Joy', JSOT 23 (1982), pp. 87-98.
'Prophecy and Wisdom', in Israel's Prophetic Tradition:
Essays in Honour of Peter R. Ackroyd (ed. R.J. Coggins,
A. Phillips and M. Knibb; Cambridge: Cambridge Univer-
sity Press, 1982), pp. 181-99.
Wisdom Literature in the Reigns of David and Solomon', in
Studies in the Period of David and Solomon and Other
Essays: Papers Read at the International Symposium for
Biblical Studies, December 1979 (ed. T. Ishida; Tokyo:
Yamakawa Shuppansha, 1982), pp. 13-26.
'On Robert Alter's The Art of Biblical Narrative', JSOT 27
(1983), pp. 75-86.
'Two Recent Studies on Second Isaiah', JSOT 34 (1986),
pp. 109-17.
'Old Testament Theology—A Non-Existent Beast?', in Scrip-
ture: Meaning and Method. Essays Presented to A.T.
Hanson (ed. B.P. Thompson; Hull: Hull University Press,
1987), pp. 168-80.
'Ecclesiastes 1.5-7 and the Wonders of Nature', JSOT 41
(1988), pp. 105-12.
'Poverty, Wealth and Point of View in Proverbs', in ExpTim
100 (1988-89), pp. 332-36.
Today and Tomorrow in Biblical Studies: II. The Old Testa-
ment', ExpTim 100 (1988-89), pp. 364-68.
The Social World of the Wisdom Writers', in The World of
Ancient Israel (ed. R.E. Clements; Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1989), pp. 227-50.
'Ecclesiastes', 'Servant Songs', 'Wisdom Literature', in A
Dictionary of Biblical Interpretation (ed. R.J. Coggins and
J.L. Houlden; London: SCM Press; Philadelphia: Trinity
Press International, 1990), pp. 183-84, 628-31, 726-29.
The Sage in the Israelite Royal Court', in The Sage in Israel
and the Ancient Near East (ed. J.G. Gammie and L.G.
Perdue; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1990), pp. 133-39.
Publications ofR. Norman Whybray 23
' "A Time to be Born and a Time to Die." Some Observations on
Ecclesiastes 3:2-8', in Near Eastern Studies Dedicated to
H.I.H. Prince Takahito Mikasa (ed. M. Mori, H. Ogawa
and M. Yoshikawa; Bulletin of the Middle Eastern Culture
Centre in Japan, 5; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1991),
pp. 469-83.
'Sanday (William)', 'Sanders (Henry Arthur)', in Supplementa
au Dictionnaire de la Bible, XI (1991), cols. 1329-31,
1331-32.
Thoughts on the Composition of Proverbs 10-29', in Priests,
Prophets and Scribes: Essays on the Formation and Heri-
tage of Second Temple Judaism in Honour of Joseph
Blenkinsopp (ed. E. Ulrich et al.\ JSOTSup, 149; Sheffield:
JSOT Press, 1992), pp. 102-14.
Works Edited or Co-Edited
The Japan Christian Yearbook, 1965 (Tokyo: Kyobunkwan)

(co-editor)
Book List of the Society for the Study of the Old Testament,
1974-80 (editor).
Old Testament Guides, Sheffield: JSOT Press, editor from
1983.
Forthcoming
Wisdom Psalms' (J.A Emerton Festschrift).

Proverbs (NCB; London: Harper-Collins; Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans).
The Composition of the Book of Proverbs
PROPHECY AND SOCIETY IN ISRAEL*
Andrew Mayes
I
The element in which the prophets live is the storm of the
world's history, which sweeps away human institutions...It
belongs to the notion of prophecy, of true revelation, that
Jehovah, overlooking all the media of ordinances and institu-
tions, communicates himself to the individual, the called one
(Wellhausen 1973: 398).
That nineteenth-century characterization of prophecy, which
lifts it out of time and circumstance in a very idealistic way,
has fundamentally shaped our perception of prophecy until
recently. Even when Israelite prophecy was set in the context
of prophecy as a general religious phenomenon, and indeed
also when increasing emphasis came to be placed on the
psychological conditioning of prophetic experience, the basic
picture changed little. So, Lindblom (1962: 46) could write:
A prophet may be characterized as a person who, because he is
conscious of having been specially chosen and called, feels forced
to perform actions and proclaim ideas which, in a mental state
of intense inspiration or real ecstasy, have been indicated to him
in the form of divine revelations.
The prophet is an individual who has been called; as the reci-
pient of revelation, the prophet proclaims that revelation to an
audience.
It is no cause for wonder, then, that the study of the proph-
etic books should have concentrated on the retrieval of the
* It is a privilege to offer this as a tribute to Norman Whybray, both

for his wide-ranging and incisive contribution to the study of Old Testa-
ment prophecy and wisdom, and for his friendly encouragement and
thoughtful support for his colleagues.
authentic words of those individual prophets under whose
names materials from a variety of backgrounds have been
collected. The truth was to be found in the ipsissima verba of
the great prophetic personalities, and everything else was
secondary if not spurious. Gunkel's early studies identified the
oldest prophetic forms as brief poems oriented to the future.
Foretelling the future always remained their principal
purpose, but the prophets also became concerned with giving
the ethical reason why what they prophesied had to happen.
So they added to their threats reproaches in which they raised
accusation against Israel (Gunkel 1969: 48-75). Thus the
basic framework of understanding was reached. The original
prophetic word is a poetic oracle about the future. This was
received by the prophets in a moment of ecstatic inspiration.
When they proclaimed that word they added to it their own
word of accusation, giving the reason for the doom expressed
in the oracle.
The essential contours of this understanding are found also
with von Rad:
The divine word was, of course, primary in point of time: this
was what came to the prophet in a moment of inspiration, to be
passed on to those whom it concerned. This the prophet did by
prefixing to it a diatribe which identified the people addressed
(1965: 37).
Even Westermann, who, in reviewing the study of prophetic
speech forms, seems to have attempted to break away from
the value judgment that is beginning to become clear here,
could not in the end do so. In other words, Westermann in the
end concluded: 'God's word, in the proper sense, is only the
announcement. It is designated as such by the introductory
messenger formula...' (1967: 132); that is, it is the prophetic
announcement about the future, and it alone, which is 'the
real word of God' (149). Finally, Koch's fine and persuasive dis-
cussion of the forms of prophetic speech, which even includes
the recognition that the formula Thus said the Lord...' does
not refer to a specific point in time when the messenger
received the word of God, cannot avoid distinguishing between
the word of the prophet and the real divine word (Koch 1969:
190-92).
MAYES Prophecy and Society in Israel 27
These are idealistic presentations of prophecy. They pre-
suppose and reflect a model of prophecy that is certainly
rooted in the Old Testament: so, in Amos 4.1-3 the prophetic
word of accusation in v. 1 introduces, and roots in a particular
situation, the divine word about the future that comes to
expression in vv. 2-3. This model also, however, clearly
expresses particular theological convictions about the way in
which God relates to his creation. There is a strong reflection
of Protestant rejection of any interruption in the immediate
relationship between God and the individual, with an equally
strong Protestant emphasis on the calling and duty to which
the individual must submit in order to be right with God. On
this view, these prophets truly were, in the words of another
Old Testament scholar, 'proto-Protestants of an earlier
dispensation' (Volz 1949: 30; cf. Berger 1963: 944).
II
Two elements of this idealistic presentation of prophecy stand
out as worth closer examination. First, the prophet is one who
has been called; secondly, the prophet is the recipient of
revelations. Both are basic and essential features of this theo-
logical model of prophecy; both serve to maintain and express
this idealistic understanding.
In relation to the prophetic call, Lindblom (1962: 182) argued:

In Israel the certainty of being called by Yahweh was one of the
most characteristic features of the prophetic consciousness.
This certainly was an impelling force in the lives of the prophets
and at the same time a source of confidence and fortitude. The
legitimacy of the true prophet and the authority of his message
are established by his call. He knew that he was properly called
by Yahweh to carry out his task. The false prophet is declared
to be such, and his visions and messages are rejected as value-
less, not because he did not have visions and ecstatic experi-
ences, but because he had not been called.
In a similar way, von Rad (1965: 54-55) believed that it was
the call that set the prophets apart from their fellow Israelites
as individuals 'cut off from the religious capital on which the
majority of the people lived', and made them dependent instead
on their own inner resources. It was the call of Yahweh that
characterized the genuine prophet.
The status of this account must be clarified carefully. It
seems to mean, indeed it surely can only mean, that the true
prophets of Yahweh knew that they were such because of
their own inner conviction that they had received a call from
Yahweh. It was on this ground that Jeremiah could declare to
Hananiah, 'Hear now, Hananiah! Yahweh has not sent you,
but you have made this people trust in a lie' (Jer. 28.15). This
was not, however, a judgment open to anyone else to make;
there was no objective, external mark that such a call had
been given and received; there was no proof by which the
prophets could demonstrate to others that they had been
marked out by Yahweh.
This would imply that whatever may be the significance of
the inner convictions of the prophet (and about that it is
difficult for us to say anything), the reference that any
prophet makes to a call must have a point other than that of
establishing and demonstrating the validity of the claim to be
a prophet. The conviction of the call may indeed have func-
tioned to strengthen the prophet (any prophet) in the face of
opposition, but it could never demonstrate legitimacy.
A fresh understanding of the purpose of prophetic refer-
ences to a call begins with the observation that those pro-
phetic passages which record such a call (Isa. 6; Jer. 1; Isa.
40.1-11; Ezek. 1-3) show quite clear formal similarities, at
least insofar as they record the commissioning of the prophets,
their objection to that commission, the divine reassurance and
promise of Yahweh's presence, and a confirming sign. This
pattern is, moreover, one that marks also the narrative of the
call of Moses in Exod. 3.10-12.1 The significance of this may be
expressed in these terms: in referring to their call in this way
the prophets are not so much demonstrating legitimacy as
claiming legitimacy, a claim that is later formally reflected
1. The formal structure of the call narrative has been investigated

especially by Habel (1965: 297-323), Richter (1970), and Schmidt (1977:
123-30). The fact that some question may exist over the precise relation-
ship of all appearances of the call form does not affect the point being
made here.
and recognized in Deut. 18.15. The prophets claim to belong to
the authentic Yahwistic religious tradition that, at least in
Deuteronomy, is understood to reach back to Moses.
The form by which the prophets express their call also finds
a parallel in Genesis 24, which relates the story of Abraham's
sending his servant to his home country to seek a wife for
Isaac. As the servant recounts this commission to Laban (Gen.
24.34-49), he refers to the commission, his objection, his
master's reassurance, and the sign that confirmed the one
designated as Isaac's wife. As with the prophetic call narra-
tives, so here the messenger indeed refers to a point of time in
the past when he had received his commission, but it is not on
this that the emphasis lies. Rather, the purpose of the form is
a twofold one: on the one hand, it is to assert that a commis-
sion has been given; on the other hand, it is to give expression
to the nature and content of that commission. The prophetic
call narratives (and it is only those to which we have access)
reflect prophetic claims to be true representatives of Yahweh
and express the substance of the commission that they have
been given. They may also reflect the personal convictions of
the prophets that they have been called, a conviction that
may have functioned to strengthen and encourage them in
the face of disbelief, but there is nothing here that to the out-
sider could have demonstrated their legitimacy. These call
narratives are essentially vehicles of prophetic preaching and
prophetic claims.
The visionary experiences of the prophets may also be given

an idealistic type of interpretation that could be taken to
confirm the model of prophecy expressed by Wellhausen and
others. Here in these mysterious encounters with Yahweh the
prophets received the divine message that they then imparted
in the form of poetic oracles about the future.
Yet again, however, it is clear that it is hardly justifiable to
stop short with this form of understanding,2 and that for at
least two reasons. In the first place, vision reports in the
prophetic books follow a common general pattern consisting of
2. On prophetic visions, cf. especially Long 1976: 353-65; Schmidt
1979: 537-64; Zimmerli 1982: 95-118.
an introductory announcement followed by a brief transi-
tional element and finally by the description of the vision
itself. The regularity of this form indicates the possibility of its
use as a conventional means of reporting a prophetic message,
whether or not an actual vision gave rise to it. Jer. 24.1-10 is a
very probable example of the conventional use of the form, for
here the prosaic and expansive use of deuteronomistic expres-
sions make it highly unlikely that it is anything other than a
deuteronomistic sermon. In some cases, therefore, the con-
ventional form of a visionary report may be used in order to
convey a message that is actually rooted elsewhere. Secondly,
however, even when actual visions do lie behind these reports,
these cannot be understood in a simplistic way as the fons et
origo of prophetic messages. Visions are states of mind, psycho-
logical conditions, to which some individuals are susceptible.
Indeed, as 1 Kgs 22.13-23 and 2 Kgs 8.7-15 indicate, they
represent states of mind that could be summoned to order.
They are within the competence of the prophetic personality,
as they divined the future on request, the means by which
ideas, impressed on the unconscious mind, were brought to
consciousness. The vision is, in other words, a vehicle rather
than the source of prophetic understanding, and one cannot
appeal to it as the mysterious point of communion between
the prophet and Yahweh in which the divine message for
Israel was received.
So, neither in the case of the call nor in the case of the
visionary experience—both of which are foundational to the
idealistic presentation of prophecy—can it be claimed that we
have reached what might be called the characteristic essence
of prophecy or the essential source of prophecy in unfathom-
able mystery. In both cases, we have vehicles of prophecy
rather than foundations of prophecy. In the one case, we have
a rhetorical form used to express the substance of the message;
in the other, we may have the same thing, or, insofar as
visions are actually present here, the record of psychological
states of mind that the prophets themselves could induce. In
neither case is there a strong support for the view that the
prophet is to be understood solely as an individual called by
Yahweh, to whom Yahweh gave revelations.
III
In the attempt to develop an understanding of prophecy
alternative to the idealistic theological type of model, two
terms have come to assume some importance. These are
'charisma' and 'ecstasy*. Neither is a particularly new term in
the context of prophecy, but the one has undergone a revival
and the other something of a transformation in sense, and
these changes of perspective have contributed much to the
development of a fresh view of prophecy as a historical and
social as well as a religious phenomenon. The terms are by no
means unrelated, but for the purposes of clarification they
should be first examined separately.
The word charisma is associated particularly with the work of

Max Weber who used it to denote a type of leadership or
authority in society.3 Whereas traditional authority is that
handed down and exercised by the family heads in a tradi-
tional society, and legal-rational authority is that typical of a
total system in a modern bureaucratic state, charismatic
authority is personal, exclusive and entirely independent of
traditional or hierarchic structures. Whereas the first two are
characterized by permanence and stability, charismatic author-
ity is characterized by instability and transience. Charismatic
authority knows no routine, no laws or rules of procedure
based on precedent; rather, it breaks open existing structures,
introducing something new.
Of the type of charismatic leader, Weber (1964: 358-59)
wrote:
The term 'charisma' will be applied to a certain quality of an
individual personality by virtue of which he is set apart from
ordinary men and treated as endowed with supernatural, super-
human, or at least specifically exceptional powers and qualities.
For Weber, the paradigmatic charismatic figure is, in fact, the
3. For a good treatment of charismatic leadership within the Weber

tradition, cf. Malamat 1976: 152-68. For a comprehensive study refer-
ence may also be made to Mayes 1989: index, s.v. 'charisma'.
prophet who brings a new divine word to challenge the tradi-
tional or accepted structures of society:
We shall understand 'prophet' to mean a purely individual
bearer of charisma, who by virtue of his mission proclaims a
religious doctrine or divine commandment... The personal call is
the decisive element distinguishing the prophet from the priest.
The latter lays claim to authority by virtue of his service in a
sacred tradition, while the prophet's claim is based on personal
revelation and charisma (Weber 1965: 46).
It is clear, however, that Weber was strongly influenced here
by the individualistic understanding of prophecy typical of his
contemporaries such as Wellhausen, and that this stood in
some tension with his use of the relational term 'charisma' to
describe their activities. In fact, Weber did not maintain this
primary association of charisma with prophecy, but came to
use it rather to characterize the leaders of Israel in the pre-
monarchic period. It is to that context that the term was then,
largely under the influence of Alt and Noth, more or less
confined. The charismatic leaders of Israel were the so-called
judges, individuals who came forward spontaneously in times
of crisis to lead Israel in victory over its enemies.
This not altogether helpful restriction upon the application
of the term 'charisma' in the Old Testament context had quite
clear causes and consequences: it reflected a preconceived
understanding of the nature of prophecy along the idealistic
theological lines outlined above, and it tended to distort rather
than to clarify the historical and social significance of pro-
phecy in Israel. Nevertheless, the association of prophecy with
charisma did not altogether disappear, and in fact received a
good theoretical grounding in RendtorfFs 'Reflections on the
Early History of Prophecy in Israel'(1967). Here it was argued
that pre-classical Israelite prophecy was marked by three
dominant concerns: with Israel as the people of Yahweh rather
than as a monarchic state, with the right conduct of war
according to the laws of the holy war, and with the observance
of sacral, covenant law. Insofar as early Israelite prophecy is
identified by these concerns, it can be argued that its real
roots then lie in pre-monarchic charismatic leadership, for
here these same concerns are dominant and characteristic.4

The term 'charisma', therefore, is not only appropriate also
for early prophecy, but its continued use in this context high-
lights an essential aspect of prophecy that is otherwise
neglected, that is, the relational character of prophecy as a
social and historical phenomenon involving prophets with
their followers. A prophet is not simply an individual, but an
individual exercising a form of leadership over those who
acknowledge that prophetic authority.
Weber (1965: 3) made a connection between charisma and
ecstasy in these terms: ecstasy was a subjective condition
through which the prophets' charisma was strengthened and
represented to their followers. It is the term 'ecstasy', then, as
denoting a personal and subjective condition, that became
dominant in the discussion of prophecy. Perhaps its best
definition within the context of the theological approach to
prophecy was provided by Lindblom (1962: 4-5): ecstasy is
an abnormal state of consciousness in which one is so intensely
absorbed by one single idea or one single feeling, or by a group of
ideas or feelings, that the normal stream of psychical life is
more or less arrested. The bodily senses cease to function; one
becomes impervious to impressions from without; conscious-
ness is exalted above the ordinary level of daily experience;
unconscious mental impressions and ideas come to the surface
in the form of visions and auditions.
Lindblom went on to distinguish between various degrees of
ecstasy, but consistently maintained this understanding of it
as a subjective psychological condition. This was an approach
perfectly compatible with the dominant, idealistic interest in
the nature of Old Testament prophecy as a channel of com-
munication between Yahweh and Israel. Ecstasy is a purely
individual experience; it is the condition of the individual
4. For a somewhat similar understanding, cf. van der Toorn 1987:

191-218, where it is argued that the pre-monarchic leaders in Israel exhi-
bited a combination of the functions of kahin (soothsayer) and sayyid
(chief), a combination that was eventually broken, with the chiefly func-
tions coming to be assumed by a non-charismatic dynastic king, while the
kahin type functions developed into early and then classical prophecy.
prophet in communion with God; in a state of ecstasy the
historical and social are transcended, as the prophets empty
themselves in order to receive the divine revelation. One can
understand how ecstasy, rather than charisma, became then
the favoured term in the discussion of the nature of prophecy.
While this understanding retains its validity, it does, how-
ever, require supplementing, particularly along the lines sug-
gested by Petersen (1981). Petersen has attempted to use 'role
theory' to understand the behaviour and recorded experiences
of the prophets, and as a context for understanding ecstasy.
That is, he understands ecstasy not simply as a subjective, per-
sonal condition of an individual prophet, but rather objectively
as one measurable degree of the prophet's involvement in the
social role of being a prophet. The presupposition is that the
role of the prophet is a socially definable phenomenon, indeed
a social given independent of its manifestation in any par-
ticular individual, to which belong certain public activities and
of which there are certain public expectations. In this respect,
the role of the prophet is analogous to the role of the judge, of
the king, of the priest and so on. The inclusion of prophecy
within the context of social roles institutionalizes prophecy and
makes it a phenomenon no more or less individualistic than
kingship and priesthood. The individual adopts a role, the role
that is appropriate to a particular context. The degree of that
individual's commitment to and involvement in the adopted
role may, however, vary; ecstasy is one of those degrees. The
range of degrees of involvement extends from effective non-
involvement to what is called bewitchment, and include: casual
role enactment that is automatic and routine; ritual acting, as,
for example, the greeting by a waiter in a restaurant;
engrossed acting by an actor who, while maintaining an
independent identity, is absorbed in a role; classical hypnotic
role-taking implying a higher degree of self-involvement;
histrionic neurosis, characterized by psychosomatic disorders;
ecstasy, in which voluntary action is suspended and which is
marked by distinctive physical activity such as speaking in
tongues, or walking on coals; bewitchment, the most intensive
stage of role involvement, exemplified in the behaviour of those
who believe themselves to be the object of sorcery or witchcraft.
Various activities reported of the prophets may be fairly
easily located within this spectrum of degrees of involvement
in the prophetic role. So, Isaiah's walking naked and barefoot
and Jeremiah's wearing a yoke around his neck may be under-
stood as either ritual acting or engrossed acting; Jeremiah's
intense experiences, as reported in Jer. 4.19, may be under-
stood as a manifestation of histrionic neurosis. It may also be,
as Petersen believes, that none of these prophetic experiences
should be described as ecstatic. Whether or not that is the
case, however, what is important here is that ecstasy is no
longer seen simply as a private, subjective condition, but
rather is that by which the individual publicly manifests his
or her adoption of a socially given role. It has a very public
along with a private dimension, and, along with charisma,
may serve as a term very appropriate to the task of trying to
locate the prophets and their activities within Israelite history
and society.
Both ecstasy and charisma, then, are useful terms in the
development of a theoretical understanding of prophecy as a
social phenomenon. Both of them have to do with the social
dimension of prophecy, and one of them, charisma, has par-
ticular value both in giving prophecy a broader diachronic
dimension, by rooting prophecy in pre-monarchic charismatic
leadership, and in drawing attention to the fact that indi-
vidual prophets had followers, and that it is in the relation-
ship between the prophet and those followers that prophecy
came into existence.
IV
Recent study of Israelite prophecy is very conscious of its
social dimension, and, given the role of prophecy in Israelite
religion, the accurate delineation of the contours of this
dimension will have ramifications for the more general ques-
tion of the relationship of Israelite religion to Israelite society.
Two interrelated questions may serve as a focus for our
discussion: the relationship of prophets to the Israelite cult,
and the existence of prophetic support groups. In both cases
the questions have to do with prophets in their relations to
society, so developing what has already been said with regard
to the prophets as charismatics, and carrying important impli-
cations for our understanding of the origin and nature of
prophetic preaching.
The question of the relationship of the Israelite prophets to the

cult of Israel has not been really directly addressed for some
time,5 but it still contains significant issues that are unresolved.
Wellhausen's presentation of the prophet, as an inspired
individual standing in a direct and immediate relationship
with God independent of human institutions, was little
modified by Weber in spite of the latter's sociological approach
to prophecy under the definition of charisma. Weber, almost
paradoxically, described the prophet as an individual bearer
of charisma, marked out from other religious functionaries by
his personal call—a free speaker who preached under the
influence of spontaneous inspiration, and with complete inner
independence, to the public in the market place or to the
elders in the city gate (Weber 1965: 46-59).
From a number of points of view this picture of the solitary
prophet was open to attack. In the first place, it distorted the
prophet's role in relation to other religious functionaries, and
was out of keeping with the evidence of the Old Testament
itself. The picture of the prophet as an individual communica-
tor of divine messages did not account for the representative
function that the prophet also performed. Gen. 20.7 may not
be reliable evidence that Abraham was a prophet, but it
certainly is reliable evidence of a significant function of
prophecy: to intercede with Yahweh. On a number of occa-
sions Jeremiah was commanded by Yahweh not to plead with
him for Israel and not to make intercession on its behalf (cf.
7.16; 11.14; 14.11). The prophet was an intermediary who
both proclaimed revelation and interceded for Israel.
This immediately suggests an association with the sanctuary
and Israel's cult, and in fact that connection is well established.
Samuel was a prophet who ministered in the service of
Yahweh, under the supervision of Eli, the chief priest at the
5. One of the more recent treatments, reflecting the traditional view,
is Williams 1969, which is intended as a response to Berger (1963).
sanctuary of Shiloh (1 Sam. 3.1); the band of prophets whom

Saul met were coming down from the high place at Gibeah
(1 Sam. 10.5); Elijah set up the altar of Yahweh on Mt Carmel
and there too Elisha was to be found for consultation (1 Kgs
18; 2 Kgs 4.25). The duties of prophets at sanctuaries are now
no longer very clear to us, but it is reasonable to assume that,
as distinct from the priests who proclaimed torah, perhaps
through the use of the sacred lot (Deut. 33.8), the prophets
gave guidance for extraordinary situations or situations
unsuited to the use of the sacred lot, such as times of personal
or communal distress. This is perhaps supported by those
psalms of lament which either contain prophetic oracles (Ps.
12) or are marked by a remarkable change of mood as the
psalmist expresses his certainty that he has been heard (Ps. 6).
These are isolated points derived from the Old Testament
itself. The theoretical framework and foundation for them,
which is so important for a comprehensively credible descrip-
tion of the cultic role of prophets, was provided by Berger
(1963) in his study of the relationship of office and charisma.
Berger reviewed the study of prophecy since Weber and
Wellhausen, but his most useful contribution lay in his argu-
ment that the innovatory power of charisma does not neces-
sarily imply social marginality. Prophecy represented a power
for radical change that derived from within Israelite social
institutions rather from outside those institutions. With this
understanding of the nature of prophecy, it is not impossible
that even the classical prophets should be closely related to
the institutional cult.
It is this recognition that then allowed for the later attempts
of Wilson (1980) and Petersen (1981) to fix more precisely the
place of prophets in the cult. Working on the basis of field
studies carried out by the anthropologist I.M. Lewis, Wilson
and Petersen distinguished between two forms of cult with
their corresponding forms of prophecy or intermediation. The
two forms are 'central possession religions' or 'main morality
possession religions' on the one hand, and 'peripheral posses-
sion cults' on the other. These are descriptive terms referring
to the setting of the respective phenomena in society: central
possession religions are those that are fostered by society in
general, that belong to the main or dominant group or groups
in society and express the morality and ethos of the dominant
social culture; peripheral possession cults may be identified as
those fostered on the margins of society, among those who in
one way or another are politically, socially and economically
disadvantaged.
Possession, intermediation, prophecy, arise in these contexts
for different reasons, and the role of the intermediary is
correspondingly different. So prophecy arises in the context of
the central religion as a result of military, social or economic
pressures from outside being exerted on society as a whole;
the central intermediary has a strong political role, giving
guidance for the army in time of war, regulating the succes-
sion at a time of change of ruler, providing supernatural
legitimation for the existing social order; the object of worship
in the central cult is the god of society as a whole, perceived as
a moral god, and the central intermediary is concerned with
morality in society. On the other hand, the pressures leading
to the rise of peripheral cults are internal to society—discrimi-
nation against a minority of a political, social or economic
nature. Prophetic activity in this context is a group ecstatic
phenomenon, and the major concern is with effecting change
in society in order to promote the welfare of the oppressed
minority; it is, therefore, the power rather than the moral
nature of the god worshipped by the minority group that is
distinctive.
This distinction between central and peripheral cults has con-
tributed fruitfully to our understanding of Israelite prophecy,
though the results are not always as clear or unambiguous as
one might wish.6 Certainly at least in the case of Elijah the
model seems appropriate, for he shows many of the charac-
teristics associated with peripheral status: he was threatened
by the central establishment; the worship of Yahweh in the
time of Ahab was threatened with displacement from its
central position as the religion of the state; the stories about
Elijah and Elisha concern as much if not more the power
rather than the morality of Yahweh (2 Kgs 2.23-25).
Whatever may be the case about about these problems,
6. Some of the difficulties have been noted by Carroll (1989: 216-18).
however, the discussion has served to highlight what has
become a basic recognition in the study of prophecy: that the
prophets were not simply messengers of Yahweh, but were
also representative of groups within Israel, wherever in
Israelite society these groups were located. So, Wilson (1980:
51-56) has gone so far as to argue that every prophet had a
support group, and that the prophetic message is to be under-
stood as the expression of the internalized values of the support
group, behind which may be found sociopolitical and socio-
economic concerns. This is probably a too rigid understanding
of a complex situation, too rigid in the sense that it cannot be
demonstrated that every prophet had a particular group of
disciples who may be identified as a support group, and also
in that there is more to religious language and ideas than the
covert expression of sociopolitical and socioeconomic concerns.7
Wilson is probably right, however, in the general principle
behind his argument: prophecy is not to be understood in an
idealistic way on the model of a one-way line of communica-
tion between God and Israel through the individual prophet.
It has an essential relationship to the historical, religious,
social, economic and political conditions of Israel that some-
how has to be formulated. The traditional model of prophecy is
a linear one in which prophet and people are passive recipi-
ents of a divine word; this model takes little notice of the
context out of which that word came and into which it was
spoken, nor does it reckon with the expectations that both
prophet and people would already have had about the nature
of the divine will for Israel. Moreover, this linear model makes
it very difficult to accommodate and comprehend the phe-
nomenon of prophetic conflict, as reflected, for example, in
Jeremiah 28. If a prophet is to be understood solely as the
mediator of a divine word, how is fundamental disagreement
between prophets to be explained? What is required is a model
of prophecy in which the prophet interacts with both God and
people and in which the people have their own relationship
with God apart from the prophetic channel of communication.8
Both prophet and people are, therefore, active in the coming
7. See the critical discussion by Herion (1986: 10-14).

8. For a development of this, cf. especially Overholt 1981: 55-78.
into being of the divine word. The function of the prophet is to
realize and to articulate the will of God in the context of his or
her (charismatic) relationship with a particular group. The
prophet realizes and articulates what is recognized to be the
word of God by a particular group, whether a specific group of
disciples, as perhaps in the case of Isaiah, or a more diffuse
group within society. It is with increasing differentiation within
society that different groups originate with different material
and ideal interests, within which the Israelite religious tradi-
tion would be differently interpreted. It is in these situations
of conflict, conflict that reaches beyond political and economic
interest to embrace the total self-understanding, that pro-
phetic conflict arises. The word of God, arising out of and
addressed to these situations, is part of an evolving Israelite
self-understanding that cannot but reflect the tensions
inherent in that process.
Within this wider social framework, it is possible to expand,
correct and balance the idealistic presentation of prophecy.
Prophetic visions, and the call of the prophet, may then be
seen as elements of the message of the prophet as a charis-
matic leader within Israel. This term should be restored to the
context of prophecy, for it emphasizes an essential aspect of
prophecy—the relationship of the prophets to those who
acknowledged them as prophets—that is crucial for our appre-
ciation of the origin and meaning of prophetic preaching.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Berger, P.
1963 'Charisma and Religious Innovation: The Social Location of
Israelite Prophecy', American Sociological Review 28: 940-50.
Carroll, R.P.
1989 'Prophecy and Society', pp. 203-25 in The World of Ancient
Israel: Sociological, Anthropological and Political Perspectives
(ed. R.E. Clements; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press).
Gunkel, H.
1969 'The Israelite Prophecy from the Time of Amos', pp. 48-75 in
Twentieth Century Theology in the Making, I (ed. J. Pelikan;
London: Collins).
Habel, N.C.
1965 The Form and Significance of the Call Narratives', ZAW 77:
297-323.
Herion, G.A.
1986 'The Impact of Modern and Social Science Assumptions on the
Reconstruction of Israelite History', JSOT 34: 3-33.
Koch, K.
1969 The Growth of the Biblical Tradition (London: A. & C. Black).
Lindblom, J.
1962 Prophecy in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Basil Blackwell).
Long, B.O.
1976 'Reports of Visions among the Prophets', JBL 95: 353-65.
Malamat, A.
1976 'Charismatic Leadership in the Book of Judges', pp. 152-68 in
Magnalia Dei. The Mighty Acts of God: Essays on the Bible and
Archaeology in Memory of G. Ernest Wright (ed. P.M. Cross,
W.E. Lemke and P.D. Miller; New York: Doubleday).
Mayes, A.D.H.
1989 The Old Testament in Sociological Perspective (London:
Marshall Pickering).
Overholt, T.W.
1981 'Prophecy: The Problem of Cross-Cultural Comparison',
Semeia 21: 55-78.
Petersen, D.L.
1981 The Roles of Israel's Prophets (JSOTSup, 17; Sheffield: JSOT
Press).
Rad, G. von
1965 Old Testament Theology, II (Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd).
Rendtorff, R.
1967 'Reflections on the Early History of Prophecy in Israel', pp. 14-
34 in History and Hermeneutic (ed. R.W. Funk; New York:
Harper & Row).
Richter, W.
1970 Die sogenannten vorprophetischen Berufungsberichte
(FRLANT, 101; Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht).
Schmidt, W.H.
1977 Exodus (BKAT, II/2;Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag).
1979 Die prophetische Grundgewissheit", pp. 537-64 in Das Proph-
etenverstdndnis in der deutschsprachigen Forschung seit
Heinrich Ewald (ed. P.H.A. Neumann; Darmstadt: Wissen-
schaftliche Buchgesellschaft).
Toorn, K. van der
1987 'From Patriarchs to Prophets. A Reappraisal of Charismatic
Leadership in Ancient Israel', Journal of Northwest Semitic
Languages 13: 191-218.
Volz, P.
1949 Prophetengestalten des Alien Testaments (Stuttgart: Calwer
Verlag).
Weber, M.
1964 The Theory of Social and Economic Organization (New York:
Free Press).
1965 The Sociology of Religion (London: Methuen).
Wellhausen, J.
1973 Prolegomena to the History of Ancient Israel (Gloucester, MA:
Peter Smith [orig. Prolegomena to the History of Israel
(Edinburgh: A. & C. Black, 1885)]).
Westermann, C.
1967 Basic Forms of Prophetic Speech (London: Lutterworth).
Williams, J.G.
1969 The Social Location of Israelite Prophecy', JAAR 37: 153-65.
Wilson, R.R.
1980 Prophecy and Society in Ancient Israel (Philadelphia: Fortress
Press).
Zimmerli, W.
1982 "Visionary Experience in Jeremiah', pp. 95-118 in Israel's
Prophetic Tradition (ed. R.J. Coggins, A.C.J. Phillips and
M.A. Knibb; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press).
PROPHETS, PRIESTS, DIVINERS AND SAGES IN
ANCIENT ISRAEL
Lester L. Grabbe
From the time of Wellhausen the 'classical prophets' were

exalted as a unique phenomenon in history and theology. Not
infrequently other religious figures were considered inferior if
not even denigrated—priests, 'pre-classical' prophets, the
wisdom authors.1 Such figures as diviners were naturally
beyond the pale.
In recent years this sharp dichotomy has been blunted. It is
now generally recognized that 'classical' prophecy represents
a major continuum with 'pre-classical' prophecy and that
prophecy is not necessarily to be divorced from the cult; also,
current interest in the wisdom tradition has changed the nega-
tive judgment that was once passed upon it. Nevertheless, one
still sees a good deal of influence of the old views, even if they
operate on a more subtle and perhaps even unconscious level.2
Robert Wilson has helped to put the situation in perspective
by his use of the term 'intermediary' for prophets, priests,
diviners and the like.3 This seems to be roughly equivalent to
the common anthropological category of 'religious specialists'.
1. See especially J. Wellhausen, Prolegomena to the History of Israel

(Edinburgh: A. & C. Black, 1885), pp. 411-15.
2. Cf., e.g., H.M. Orlinsky, The Seer-Priest in Ancient Israel', OrAnt 4
(1965), pp. 153-74; idem, The Seer-Priest and the Prophet in Ancient
Israel', Essays in Biblical Culture and Bible Translation (New York: Ktav,
1974), pp. 39-65 (also in B. Mazar [ed.], The World History of the Jewish
People. III. Judges [New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1971],
ch. 12); G. Fohrer, History of Israelite Religion (Nashville: Abingdon Press,
1972; ET of Geschichte der israelitischen Religion, 1968), part 2, ch. 3
(pp. 223-91).
3. R.R. Wilson, Prophecy and Society in Ancient Israel (Philadelphia:
Fortress Press, 1980), pp. 27-28.
While Wilson recognized the existence of other 'intermediaries',
however, he focused only on prophets. My purpose is to
survey the social roles of the major intermediaries or religious
specialists in order to gain a better idea of their relationship to
one another and their function in the society of ancient Israel.
The role of divine kingship, which rightly falls under
'religious specialists', is omitted here because it is too complex
to treat in this context.
Religious Specialists in Anthropological Study

The techniques and methods of social anthropology have a
particular place in Old Testament research; for it must never
be forgotten that ancient Israel cannot be studied like a con-
temporary society. No one can or will do anthropological field
work on ancient Israelite society. It is accessible only
indirectly, through archaeology and literary remains. Social
anthropology is extremely useful in allowing us to develop
new models and analogues, to ask new questions, to look at
the ancient data from new perspectives, but we must never
forget the limitations on our knowledge. Some very basic sets
of information that any modern field study would gather as a
matter of routine are simply closed to us. The excitement of
new discovery must not blind us to the severe constraints at
times imposed on us by this lack.
Anthropological studies indicate several points about
religious specialists that are worth noting and using to inter-
rogate the Old Testament data. These will first be listed, then
specific examples will be looked at in order to support these
assertions:
1. While certain basic religious needs are found across a
wide variety of pre-industrial societies, the religious
specialists who meet these needs and their relation-
ship to each other often vary greatly from society to
society. One society may have priests and shamans;
another may distinguish prophets, shamans, healers
and witch-finders; a third may divide healers into
several categories; and so on.
GRABBE Prophets, Priests, Diviners and Sages 45
2. The roles of religious specialists are distinctly classified
for the sake of research, yet in actual practice it is not
always easy to distinguish between them. One indi-
vidual may exercise more than one role in a particular
society; in another society, there may be greater
specialization. But in most societies there is usually a
certain amount of overlap and blurring of roles.
Max Weber's 'ideal types' of priest, prophet and the
like have been very influential in anthropological and
biblical research, but even he recognized that they
actually grade into one another.4 Indeed, Weber's use
of ideal types has sometimes been misunderstood and
misused.5 For the sake of heuristic research he would
construct an ideal type, but he always recognized that
it was only a research model. The ideal type may not
exist everywhere, or even anywhere in some cases, but
functions as a scholarly construct that must always be
measured against the actual living situation in
society. Although Weber recognized that the roles of
priest and prophet overlapped, some of his statements
nevertheless need correcting. For example, contrary to
Weber, there are many examples of prophets coming
from priestly ranks.6
3. The most important dichotomy from a social point of
view is often not that between individual specialists
(e.g. priest versus prophet) but between level of func-
tion, whether at individual level or at state I national
level (i.e. national prophet versus local prophet).7
4. See M. Weber, The Sociology of Religion; the edition I have used is

G. Roth and C. Wittich (ed.), Economy and Society (2 vols.; Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1978), I, pp. 424-27.
5. See Weber's discussion in Roth and Wittich (eds.), Economy and
Society, I, pp. 18-22. On the subject generally, see B. Wilson, Religion in
Sociological Perspective (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1982), pp. 95-
105. For criticism of this usage as it relates to a particular theory, see my
'Social Setting of Early Jewish Apocalypticism', JSP 4 (1989), pp. 27-47,
especially 32-33.
6. See Weber's statement in Roth and Wittich (eds.), Economy and
Society, I, pp. 440.
7. Cf. the important distinction between 'peripheral' and 'central' cults
Following are examples of anthropological studies that support
the points just made:
The Nuer*
The most important ritual expert among these Sudanese
people is the 'earth priest' or 'leopard-skin priest'. This is
primarily a hereditary office that resides in certain families.
The major function of this priest is to purify acts of homicide
and other pollutions that arise during feuds, as well as to act
as a mediator in such situations. Of perhaps less importance
are the cattle-priests who function in regard to all aspects of
cattle: fertility, health, feeding, acquiring by raiding, and so
on. Another important function is that of prophet. Although
Evans-Pritchard downplayed the role of prophets in his later
writings, it is now recognized that prophets have probably
always functioned in Nuer society, and some have been
famous and very important.9 There are also other lesser ritual
experts such as curers and diviners.
The significant fact for our purposes is the extent to which
the roles of prophet and priest overlap. First, the most famous
prophets have generally come from priestly families. Secondly,
there is a tendency for priests to take on prophetic functions
and for prophets who are not already of the priestly lines to
attempt to take on priestly roles:
and figures made by I.M. Lewis, Ecstatic Religion: A Study of Shamanism

and Spirit Possession (London: Routledge, 2nd edn, 1989); see also the dis-
cussion by R.R. Wilson (Prophecy and Society in Ancient Israel, pp. 38-40),
who has applied the theory to Israelite prophets. The same division can
be found among diviners, healers, and even cultic functionaries.
8. For information in this section, I am primarily dependent on
T.O. Beidelman, 'Nuer Priests and Prophets', in T.O. Beidelman (ed.), The
Translation of Culture: Essays to E.E. Evans-Pritchard (London:
Tavistock, 1971), pp. 375-415. See also E.E. Evans-Pritchard, The Nuer:
Tribe and Clan', Sudan Notes and Records 18 (1935), pp. 37-87, esp.
pp. 47-75. It should be noted that some aspects of his later discussion in
Nuer Religion (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1956), pp. 287-310, are
not as reliable. Cf. Beidelman, fNuer Priests', p. 410 n. 28.
9. See Beidelman, 'Nuer Priests', pp. 395-97, on the question of
whether prophets are of recent origin among the Nuer.
[T]here seems a tendency for Nuer prophets to spring from
priestly lineages and sometimes for prophetic and ambitious
individuals outside such lineages to try to assume priestly
attributes... To put it in Weber's terms, Nuer priests sometimes
widen and strengthen their authority by assuming charismatic
powers more often associated with prophetic figures; and Nuer
prophets try to convert their charismatic powers into a more
routinized authority.10
Nuer prophets must also be seen as the extreme of a con-
tinuum with other spirit-possessed individuals who may be
only herbalists and healers. All prophets have some magical
attributes relating to healing, warfare and fertility. On the
other hand, Nuer priests often seek to augment their authority
by charismatic and supernatural powers. Prophets may also
attempt to pass on their functions to their sons just as sons
inherit the priestly office of fathers.11 Thus, there is a con-
siderable overlap between the various religious specialists in
Nuer society, and a clear distinction between them is not
always evident:
The status of a 'bull' [any prominent person because of wealth,
kinship, etc.], a ghoul, a priest, or a prophet is theoretically
different but not always readily distinguishable when such labels
are applied to actual data, whether case material or ideological
formulations.. .TheNuer data demonstrate similarities between
priest and prophets and also, in some respects, parallels
between both these and asocial or antisocial witches or ghouls.12
The Dinka13
The Nuer and Dinka peoples seem to have influenced one
another, though the exact relationship is not always clear.
The priestly functions of prayer, sacrifice and invocation of
the deity for prosperity of the people and success in war are
carried out by the 'masters of the fishing spear'. These indi-
viduals belong to certain clans with the clan-deity Flesh who
is the source of life. By the very existence and vitality of the
10. Beidelman, *Nuer Priests', p. 377.

11. Beidelman, 'Nuer Priests', pp. 388-89, 400.
12. Beidelman, *Nuer Priests', pp. 404-405.
13. This section is dependent upon G. Lienhardt, Divinity and
Experience: The Religion of the Dinka (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1961).
spear masters, the life of the community is maintained.14
Divination is widely practised as well. On the simplest level
this may be done by practically anyone, by manipulation of
mussel shells or similar techniques. Also, the use of fetish
bundles is widespread, especially to gain individual help and
to curse enemies, though the possession of these is not usually
admitted. But as one moves up the scale, the higher ranks of
diviners are able to practise their craft because of having one
of the free deities (as opposed to clan deities) in their bodies.
The highest ranks of diviners are easily assimilated to the
prophets who also perform an important function. Since the
really great prophets have all been from the ranks of fishing-
spear masters, there is no hard-and-fast distinction between
priestly, prophetic and divinatory functions.15
Kiganda Religion16
With regard to the Kiganda religion of Uganda, Peter Rigby
has noted that
the rigid distinctions frequently made in the African context
between prophets, diviners, priests, and mediums are not really
applicable, and hence do not serve a useful analytical purpose;
however, some differences between these roles and offices, and
their incumbents, obviously do exist.17
There are a variety of priests, prophets, diviners and mediums
who mediate between humans and the complex world of
spirits. More important than the distinction between these is
that between those who operate on the personal level and those
who function on the state level, whatever their designation.
The national shrines of the hero-gods and kings have regu-
lar priests whose service is primarily on behalf of the king.
The common people will not generally go to the national
14. Lienhardt, Divinity and Experience, esp. pp. 206-18.

15. Lienhardt, Divinity and Experience, esp. pp. 64-80; also pp. 206,
208.
16. For information in this section, I am primarily dependent on
P. Rigby, 'Prophets, Diviners, and Prophetism: The Recent History of
Kiganda Religion', Journal of Anthropological Research 31 (1975), pp. 116-
48.
17. Rigby, 'Prophets, Diviners, and Prophetism', p. 117.
shrines for their needs but to the local 'spirit shrines' of the
diviners, healers and prophets. Since the national shrines are
basically oriented toward the past, prophets (whose concern is
with the future) usually operate on the personal level; how-
ever, there are prophets associated with the national shrines
whose main function is to prophesy for the king and state
officials, and some of these prophets have had considerable
power over the king and his advisers. Nevertheless, some of
the major national prophets began their careers as diviners.
As Rigby notes about one famous Kiganda prophet,
Kigaanira's case also demonstrates the close interdependence of
the roles of diviner and prophet, at least for Kiganda religion.
Even during the height of his powers as a politically important
prophet, Kigaanira remained potentially a diviner, and when his
political role was over, he returned to divination and the
mediumship of Kibuuka [a Kiganda god]...18
The prophets at the national shrines bridge the divide between
the past-oriented cult and the future-oriented function of the
prophet and diviner. Finally, the fluid state of things is shown
by the fact that the same individual may perform more than
one role:
It could even be argued that the very profusion and variety of
terminology for Baganda priests, prophets, mediums, diviners,
healers, and medicine men... and the constant manipulation of
them, is structurally consistent with the ease with which an
individual may perform several of these roles simultaneously. It
is also consistent with the ability of a person to transform himself
from one role to another during the course of his professional life.19
Plains Indians of North America20

Shamans (medicine men) are widespread among these
particular tribes, but some tribes also have priests. For

20. The information of this section comes from R.H. Lowie, Indians of
the Plains (American Museum of Natural History; New York: McGraw-
Hill, 1954), pp. 161-64; reprinted in W.A. Lessa and E.Z. Vogt (eds.),
Reader in Comparative Religion: An Anthropological Approach (New
York: Harper & Row, 2nd edn, 1965), pp. 452-54.
example, the Pawnee have priests whose official duty it is to
learn sacred songs and ritual procedure. They, rather than
the chiefs, are the supreme authority of the tribe because of
their care of the sacred medicine bundles that underlie the
political structure of the tribe.21 This office is hereditary. The
shamans also have features of priests in that they learn their
techniques as disciples of great masters. Yet their powers of
healing are supposed to derive from a particular animal who
acts as the protector and source of power of the individual
shaman. Treatment of illness often consists of herbal remedies
and other physical means, but serious illness is treated by one
who gained his technique from a visionary experience. Such
shamans often specialize in one particular type of affliction.
Thus, the traditional distinction made between priest and
shaman is not so clear-cut in this case.
The Shona22
According to the belief of the Shona tribes of Zimbabwe, the
traditional diviner-healer is the n'anga whose responsibility it
is to communicate with the spirit world about the cause of an
illness and the means of a cure.23 The n'anga is also consulted
about various personal matters for which an answer is sought.
While many common people have some elementary divining
skills, for serious matters an individual would go only to a
diviner of reputation, one who has a healing spirit. Various
methods of divining are used, divining dice being especially
popular. Some diviners rely entirely on their spirits, however,
and receive their messages while in a possession trance. It is
possible to become a n'anga purely by being tutored by
specialists in herbal remedies and the like, but the most
21. 'Each of the thirteen Skidi villages owned a bundle... Four of the
bundles were pre-eminent, and a fifth...took absolute precedence; the
priests of these bundles rather than the titular chiefs held supreme
authority. Normally, the four priests in turn assumed responsibility for
the welfare of the people for the period of a year" (Lowie, Indians, p. 164 =
Lessa and Vogt, Reader, p. 454).
22. See especially M. Bourdillon, The Shona Peoples (Gweru,
Zimbabwe: Mambo, rev. edn, 1982).
23. Bourdillon, Shona, pp. 141-61.
respected gain their abilities with the help of a healing spirit.
Those who have such a spirit may gain knowledge of herbal
cures by tutelage under a master, but many learn them solely
by dreams and other forms of communication from their
healing spirits.
The spirits possessing various individuals are ancestral
spirits. A special category are the 'lion spirits' who are the
spirits of dead chiefs.24 A lion-spirit medium is mainly con-
cerned with public affairs and thus is distinguished from the
n'anga, but the distinction is not rigid. Sometimes a n'anga is
consulted about public matters (especially relating to
witchcraft, which is not considered in the lion spirit's domain),
while some lion-spirit mediums also practise as diviners and
healers. It is especially common for makombwe spirit mediums
to be consulted on private matters. These are possessed by a
particular group of lion spirits of the very early inhabitants of
the country. While normal lion spirits are considered terri-
torial, the makombwe spirits have more widespread influence.
Thus, their mediums are not associated with a particular terri-
tory and must gain their prestige by the size of their private
clientele.
Cultic functions are generally carried out by tribal elders or
others within the family and relate to local and family spirits.
However, the high god Mwari has an organized cult among
the southern Shona.25 This is administered by a permanent
priest and priestess, a keeper of the shrine, and a Voice'.
Delegations from the surrounding chiefdoms often come for
oracles from Mwari, usually about public matters. The oracle
may occasionally provide advice on private matters but will
normally refer such requesters to lesser diviners. Because the
function of this cult is similar to that of the lion spirits, lion-
spirit cults are not dominant among the southern Shona as in
the north.
Under the influence of Christianity, a number of native
independent churches have grown up. One influential one is
Johane Maranke's African Apostolic Church.26 Among its

T of prophetsn visoonsand t
ecclesiastical officers are prophets and healers. The function of
the prophet is primarily to diagnose the cause of an illness,
which the healer then proceeds to cure. While the term
'prophet' is borrowed from the Bible, the function of the indi-
vidual closely parallels that of the traditional diviner and is
clearly an adaptation of the native religion. Healing also often
takes the form of casting out evil spirits.
The Prophet Smohalla among the Washani Indians27

The religion founded by Smohalla among an Indian tribe of
the Pacific Northwest may have been to some extent
influenced by Christianity, but the fundamentals of it were
those of the aboriginal religion in this area. Smohalla arose as
a prophet in the mid-nineteenth century at a time when there
was considerable conflict with the white authorities over the
Indian lands. A concerted effort was made to move the Indian
tribes to particular areas away from their ancestral home and
to induce them to become farmers and homesteaders.
Although there is no evidence that Smohalla ever advocated
violent resistance, he opposed the white plans as contrary to
the divine will. According to him the various Indian groups
were given particular areas by the creator Nami Piap. A 'holy
covenant' (!) existed between humanity and God. One of the
conditions that this placed on the Indians was not to divide up
the land, farm it, sell it or otherwise disturb it after the
customs of the whites. He preached against those of his fellow
countrymen who had abandoned the traditions of the
ancestors and had become farmers. Like Jeremiah (6.16), he
called them back to the 'old paths', to obedience to the god's
laws as laid down from the beginning. His message was to
denounce law-breaking and violation of the divine covenant
as he saw it.
27. See C.E. Trafzer and M.A. Beach, 'Smohalla, the Washani, and
Religion as a Factor in Northwestern Indian History", American Indian
Quarterly 9 (1985), pp. 309-24.
Religious Specialists in Israel

Not surprisingly, there are differences between ancient Israel
and many of the pre-industrial societies studied by social
anthropologists. An important one is that of a monotheistic (or
henotheistic) world view rather than one with a multitude of
spirits and other deities. However, one must immediately
register a qualification here, for this world view represents
only the bias of a particular minority group at a particular
time, viz. the editors of the tradition and some of the tradents.
Israelite popular religion probably did recognize a multitude
of deities and/or spirits, which is evidenced not least by the
constant complaint that the people 'went after other gods'.28
Thus, while various sorts of divination, along with the appeal
to magic and spirits, are condemned by the Deuteronomist
(Deut. 18.9-14), it is evident that such specialists were in con-
siderable demand by some segments of the population (cf.
1 Sam. 28; Ezek. 13). One should also note the expression, the
'spirit of Yahweh', as well as the instances in which the 'angel
(mal'ak) of Yahweh' does the revealing (1 Kgs 13.18; 19.5, 7;
2 Kgs 1.3, 15). One might see an analogy here with the spirit
or spirits of certain intermediaries in anthropological studies.
Such an interpretation is also supported by the development
of a world of good and evil spirits that became prominent in
the post-exilic period.
As is often acknowledged, the 'pre-classical' prophets show a
variety of function. Samuel was both a cult functionary
('priest') and a prophet ('seer'). Granted, 1 Samuel 9 is often
thought to be the story of an anonymous seer that has been
assimilated to the Samuel tradition;29 nevertheless, even in
this event it still demonstrates that the functions of priest and
28. For a recent study of the development of Israelite religion from

polytheism to monotheism, see M.S. Smith, The Early History of God:
Yahweh and the Other Deities in Ancient Israel (San Francisco: Harper,
1990).
29. See A.F. Campbell, Of Priests and Kings: A Late Ninth Century
Document (1 Samuel 1-2 Kings 10) (CBQMS, 17; Washington, DC:
Catholic University of America, 1986), pp. 18-21 and the literature cited
there.
prophet were not thought by the tradents to be mutually
exclusive.
Several Old Testament passages associate prophets with
healing. Ahijah was consulted by the wife of King Jeroboam
as to whether their son would recover (1 Kgs 14.2). The Elisha
tradition has several stories relating to cures, including
Naaman (2 Kgs 5) and the king of Damascus (2 Kgs 8.7-15).
According to the Isaiah tradition, the prophet was consulted
about Hezekiah's illness and directly participated in its cure
(2 Kgs 20.1-11; Isa. 38.1-8, 21). The recovery of lost objects
and similar tasks is also a prophetic function in some texts
(1 Sam. 9.3-10, 18-20 [Samuel]; 2 Kgs 6.1-7 [Elisha]). The
ability to command a drought and then to make it rain is
credited to Elijah (1 Kgs 17.1-7; 18.41-46). Elisha in particular
has many of the traits associated with shamans in other
cultures.30
Thus we find that the functions of prophets and diviners in
contemporary societies is matched in many ways by the tradi-
tions about the 'pre-classical' prophets in the Old Testament:
healing and cures; finding lost objects; commanding the rains;
providing messages about the future, especially with regard to
the right course of action to take. This could operate on a
purely individual level, but many examples have to do with
the king or other state official asking for help. Nor is there
any clear division between prophets, since many of the
examples show the same specialist being consulted on both an
individual and an official state level.
Some scholars would accept the situation just described with
regard to the *pre-classicar prophets but vehemently deny it to
the written prophets. The question is, Can such a variety of
function be attributed to the 'classical' prophets? Some of the
examples already given involve the 'classical' prophets, such
as Isaiah. One might argue that the tradition of Isaiah's
involvement in Hezekiah's cure is unhistorical. This may
indeed be the case, but this is not necessarily so, and attempts
to prove such must guard against the danger of circular
30. Cf. the interesting study by R.P. Carroll, The Elijah-Elisha Sagas:
Some Remarks on Prophetic Succession in Ancient Israel', VT 19 (1969),
pp. 400-15.
reasoning. Certainly, the tradents and editors evidently saw
no conflict with the idea that a great prophet such as Isaiah
might be involved in healing.
One important point with regard to the written prophets is
the number of them who were either themselves priests or in
some way associated with the temple and cult. Isaiah seems to
have functioned in conjunction with the temple and monarchy
at least part of his life (or so the tradition: Isa. 6-7; cf. 2 Kgs
19.20-20.19). Jeremiah was of a priestly family and spent
much of his career in close association with the temple, even
when some (but not all) of the temple personnel opposed
him.31 Ezekiel was also a priest (Ezek. 1.3). Several of the
written prophets have been widely accepted as cult prophets
(Nahum, Zechariah, Haggai, perhaps Joel and Habakkuk).32
Another fact about the written prophets is the nature of the
preserved data. The earlier prophets are known by stories
about their activities, but we hear little if anything about
their specific prophecies. With prophets such as Hosea, Micah
and several others, we have almost no biographical detail, but
rather (allegedly) their actual words. Thus, we do not know
whether Hosea was consulted about lost asses or whether Joel
participated in healing rituals. One might deny such activities
to Amos since he was not originally a prophet (Amos 7.14-
15).33 Also, prophets like Isaiah who functioned at the state
level might have been above such things, but we should
probably be cautious about being too dogmatic, since Elijah
31. Cf. J. Blenkinsopp, Prophecy in Ancient Israel (London: SPCK,

1984), p. 175 n. 72. Although Wilson (Prophecy and Society, pp. 241-42)
places Jeremiah in the category of'peripheral prophet', R.P. Carroll (in an
unpublished paper) has observed that Jeremiah should really be desig-
nated as a 'central prophet' according to the categories used by I.M. Lewis
(Ecstatic Religion). See also the critique of Wilson in D.L. Petersen, The
Roles of Israel's Prophets (JSOTSup, 17; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1981),
pp. 43-47.
32. See Blenkinsopp, Prophecy in Ancient Israel, pp. 32-33. On cult
prophecy in general, see the classic study of A.R. Johnson, The Cult
Prophet in Israel (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2nd edn, 1962).
33. There seems to be agreement on this one point. Otherwise, the
literature discussing the precise meaning of the phrase, lo'-nabt' 'anokt
uflo'ben-nabt' 'anokt, makes a substantial pile.
and Elijah are credited with personal as well as national
activities. Attempts to make a distinction between earlier and
later prophets purely on ex silentio arguments are hazardous.
Another difficulty pertains to the manner in which the
written prophets received their messages. They are often dis-
tinguished from 'visionaries',34 but such a distinction is
simplistic. Isaiah had at least one vision (Isa. 6), and Ezekiel
had them regularly. We often read that the 'word of Yahweh
came to' so-and-so. But how did it come? There seems to be a
variety of possible ways. For example, on one occasion 'the
word of Yahweh' came to Nathan (2 Sam. 7.4), but this mess-
age is later referred to as a 'vision' (hizzayon, v. 17). Therefore,
the fact that no vision is mentioned is not necessarily a sign
that none occurred.
Priests were intermediaries and instruments of God, just as
were the prophets. Although this was mainly through the
cult, an important duty was that of teaching. This included
cultic torah but was not limited to it. Ethical instruction was
an important duty as well (Hos. 4.4-6; Mic. 3.11; Mai. 2.4-9).
Priests were also conceived of as judicial figures, to settle
disputes and decide difficult cases (Deut. 17.8-13; 19.17; 21.5).
Although priests primarily communicated to God on behalf
of the Israelite, they had one important mode of receiving
messages: by the divinatory techniques of the Urim and
Thummim and of the ephod. We have a number of examples
from the early period of the monarchy (1 Sam. 23.2-12; 30.7-8;
Hos. 3.4).35 In this sphere, the priest was not different from
the prophet but only provided another route by which God
could communicate, as indicated by 1 Sam. 28.6: 'And when
Saul inquired of the Lord, the Lord did not answer him, either
by dreams, or by Urim, or by prophets'. In a number of other
areas, priests and prophets exercised similar functions:
blessings and cursings (Deut. 21.5; Num. 22-24; 2 Kgs 2.24),
34. See, e.g., the articles of Orlinsky cited above.

35. Cf. H.B. Huffinon, 'Priestly Divination in Israel', in C.L. Meyers and
M. O'Connor (eds.), The Word of the Lord Shall Go Forth: Essays in Honor
of David Noel Freedman in Celebration of his Sixtieth Birthday (ASOR
Special Volume Series, 1; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1983), pp. 355-
59.
encouraging the army and seeking God's assistance before
battle (Deut. 20.2; 1 Sam. 14.3, 19, 36-41; 23.9; 1 Kgs 22) and
giving guidance in cultic matters (Hag. 2.10-14; Isa. 1.10-17;
8.16, 8.20; 30.9; Zech. 7.2-7). Priests were also to be consulted
about the healing of certain sorts of diseases; however, in
each case it seems a matter of pronouncing on cultic purity
rather than having an actual part in the curing process (Lev.
13-14).
The Position of the 'Wise' in Society

Many questions about the 'wise' of Israelite society still
remain. Professor Whybray has argued that wisdom in Israel
represented an intellectual tradition but that there was no
professional class of sage ('wise men' or 'wise women').36 Not
everyone has been convinced that there was no such profes-
sional class,37 but Whybray has demonstrated that wisdom
was by no means confined to this class even if such existed.
The words 'wise', 'wisdom' and the like are applied to a range
of areas of knowledge and skill, as well illustrated by
Professor Whybray. Noteworthy is the fact that the term 'sage'
is used in a number of Old Testament passages to apply to a
specific skill, that of the diviner (Gen. 41.8; Isa. 44.25; Dan.
2.12). This has led to a widely accepted distinction by modern
scholars between 'proverbial wisdom' and 'mantic wisdom'.38
However, it seems doubtful that such a distinction was
generally made in ancient Israel or the Near East. The term
'wisdom' (hokma) was used for this sort of knowledge as well
as that gained by the study of nature, society, and so on.
Knowledge, whether gained by supernatural or human
means, was still knowledge. Sometimes God was credited with
giving special skills to workmen even though the same sort of
36. R.N. Whybray, The Intellectual Tradition in the Old Testament

(BZAW, 135; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1974).
37. See, e.g., the review by G.E. Bryce, JBL 94 (1975), pp. 596-98.
38. See the classic articles of H.-P. Miiller, 'Magisch-mantische
Weisheit und die Gestalt Daniels', UF 1 (1969), pp. 79-94; 'Mantische
Weisheit und Apokalyptik', in P.A.H. de Boer (ed.), Congress Volume,
Uppsala 1971 (VTSup, 22; Leiden: Brill, 1972), pp. 268-93.
ability could be acquired by practice and natural ability
(Exod. 35.30-35).
When we look at modern anthropological studies of religious
specialists, we find an interesting parallel. Knowledge of
healing is sometimes associated with the study of traditional
lore passed down from generation to generation. But it may
also (or even exclusively in some cultures) be acquired by
special revelation through dreams or by spirit possession.39
Thus, it becomes clear that 'wisdom/sage' overlaps both the
supernatural and the mundane spheres. In the same way it
overlaps the functions of priests, prophets, diviners and the
like.40 Wisdom might be acquired through lore passed down by
priests or by prophets to their disciples or by diviners from
their teachers or by diviners on the basis of spirit revelation.
The term 'wise' could apply to counsellors and scribes but also
to any person with special knowledge or skills above the
ordinary. Those able to contact and in some way harness the
supernatural, such as priests, prophets and diviners, were in
a special position to acquire Svisdom' and be called 'wise'.
We do not know who wrote the wisdom books or how they or
the wisdom tradition of Israel were passed on. It would hardly
be surprising if the wisdom tradition was found to be concen-
trated in the scribal and court circles of Israel during the
monarchy. But a study of post-exilic Israel suggests that the
circles that studied, catalogued and passed on wisdom were
concentrated around the temple. Not all the qualified priests
were needed to work in the cult as a full-time job. Priests
served as scribes and administrative officials through much of
the period of the Second Temple.41 It seems a reasonable
39. See the section above on the Shona.

40. A recent article pointing out the overlap between prophecy and
mantic wisdom is J.C. VanderKam, 'The Prophetic-Sapiential Origins of
Apocalyptic Thought', in J.D. Martin and P.R. Davies (eds.), A Word in
Season: Essays in Honour of William McKane (JSOTSup, 42; Sheffield:
JSOT Press, 1986), pp. 163-76.
41. For much of the Second Temple period, the chief administrative
official of Judah was the high priest, sometimes under a regional governor
appointed by the Persian, Greek or Roman authorities. The term
'theocracy* is sometimes used of this form of state. See further my study,
Judaism from Cyrus to Hadrian (2 vols.; Minneapolis: Fortress Press,
hypothesis that the study of and speculation about astro-
nomy, astrology, eschatology, God's plan in history, and other
sorts of esoteric knowledge would have been concentrated in
the priestly circles, where such knowledge could be useful as
well as interesting and where there were individuals with
leisure to cultivate such interests.42
Conclusions and Implications

A number of the older views about priests, prophets and
wisdom have been challenged in recent years. The insights
gleaned from social anthropology suggest that this revisionism
should continue. Views plainly biased by preconceived notions
about what an Old Testament prophet must and must not be
still find their way into the scholarly literature. It is time that
some of these sacred cows were herded to the abattoir.
One of these is the idea that there was something special
about the means of inspiration and activities of the 'classical',
as opposed to the 'pre-classical', prophets. One may well argue
that the message of the canonical prophets is unique. Be that
as it may, this does not justify the assumption that the role or
function of the 'classical' prophets must be special. On the con-
trary, much that was once taken to be characteristic of the
canonical prophets can be found in many different cultures
around the world. This includes the prophetic mode of
receiving messages from God and the personal call.43 The
proclamation of repentance and turning back to the old ways
is one found widely among prophets in all cultures.44
1992), I, pp. 73-75. On the scribes of the temple, many of whom were
undoubtedly priests, see pp. 488-91.
42. See M.E. Stone, Scriptures, Sects and Vision: A Profile of Judaism
from Ezra to the Jewish Revolts (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1980), pp. 42-44.
43. Cf. Rigby, 'Prophets, Diviners, and Prophetism', p. 134. For an
important discussion on the question, see M.J. Buss, 'An Anthropological
Perspective upon Prophetic Call Narratives', Semeia 21 (1982), pp. 9-30.
44. For example, the Kiganda prophet Kigaanira called on his people to
turn away from foreign religions and carry out proper worship, so that
their exiled king would be returned—a message strikingly like that of some
of the OT prophets. See Rigby, 'Prophets, Diviners, and Prophetism',
p. 136. A similar message was preached by Smohalla (see above).
Another old idea that needs to be laid to rest is the assump-
tion that the 'professions' of priest, prophet and sage were not
only clearly distinct but fundamentally opposed to one
another. All one can say is that there was enormous variety,
especially among the different sorts of prophets, and that the
interrelationships were not constant but changed over time
and geographical area. The functions of priest, prophet and
the like were sometimes clearly distinct; also, some prophets
were opposed to some priests as well as to some individuals
labelled as sages, but this is all that can be said. The com-
plexity and constant readjustment of the relationships must
be recognized. Priest, prophet, diviner and wisdom teacher all
attempted to find out about various 'hidden' things, such as
God's will for the individual, what to expect in the future,
what actions would bring success and prosperity, what to
avoid for the same results.
Priesthood in Israel was hereditary, and only those of
appropriate descent could perform the sacrificial aspects of the
cult. But beyond this there were cult functionaries (cult
singers and evidently cult prophets) and functions that over-
lapped with those of other religious specialists. Priests,
prophets and wisdom instructors taught about the religious
and ethical demands of God and the types of deeds that would
bring success in life. Priests, prophets and diviners all
attempted to look into the future in one way or another. The
wisdom literature is filled with questions and answers about
how to guarantee success in the future and to understand the
ways of God and the workings of the cosmos.
What does emerge from a comparison of Israel and contem-
porary pre-modern societies is the division between religious
specialists who act on behalf of the individual and those who
perform for the state. Of course, the same individual might
carry out activities in both spheres. This is important to keep
in mind because in some cases our sources have focused on
one or other of these activities to the extent perhaps of sug-
gesting that one individual differed more from another than
was actually the case. Thus, Elijah's healings or Elisha's minor
miracles may make them appear to be a different sort of
prophet from Isaiah or Jeremiah, whereas this impression
may simply be traceable to the selective reporting of our

limited and heavily edited sources.
When we consider the implications of these findings, two
major points stand out:
1. It is necessary to consider more carefully the complex
relationships of various religious specialists and their
interaction at all levels of society.
2. It is important to note how the relationships of reli-
gious specialists have developed and changed with
time and especially as a consequence of certain special
historical events.
With regard to the last point, Israel's history did not end with
the Exile, although some studies seem to operate as if it did.
The monarchy ceased, only to be reintroduced in the persons
of the Hasmonaean priests and, later, the Herodian dynasty.
A tradition also developed that prophecy had died out in the
early post-exilic period, but the ironic thing is that Josephus,
one of our sources for this tradition (Apion 1.8 40-41), himself
claimed to be a prophet (War 3.8.9 §§399-408)! He also claims
to be a priest (Life 1.1-6). The Urim and Thummim were
evidently no longer available to the priests (Ezra 2.63 // Neh.
7.65). The religious needs remained much the same, but there
was a readjustment among religious specialists to meet these
needs in the changed and changing situation. With the
development of a canonical literature, written scripture
became an important source of knowledge about the future
and God's will, and thus the biblical interpreter took over in
part the former job of the priest, prophet and diviner.
Similarly, new 'sciences', such as that of astrology, took over
some of the functions of prophet and diviner.
On the other hand, the various practitioners of magic and
the miracle workers and exorcists, who emerge in the clear
light of day during the post-exilic period, may not be new at
all. Some at least, and perhaps most, already existed in pre-
exilic times—as is indicated by hints here and there in the
biblical text and other sources. The disapproval that the
editors and tradents felt toward such practices meant a good
deal of suppression of information, but what evidence remains
indicates a flourishing popular religion that contained elements
known well only from post-exilic sources.45 The insights from
social anthropology can help us to reassess the familiar data
from the Old Testament tradition and the new data of
archaeology to gain a better picture of Israel's religion in Old
Testament times. This has been only a short treatment of a
complex subject, but a longer study is in the process of
preparation.
It is with great pleasure that I dedicate this paper to
Professor Whybray, whose interests have cut across both
prophetic and wisdom literature. We are all in his debt, but as
his successor as teacher of Old Testament at Hull, I am doubly
aware of the long shadow he casts.46
45. See J.B. Segal, 'Popular Religion in Ancient Israel', JJS 27 (1976),
pp. 1-22; Grabbe, Judaism from Cyrus to Hadrian, I, ch. 8.
46. An earlier draft of this paper was read at the Society of Biblical
Literature International Meeting in Sheffield, August 1988.
FROM MARI TO MOSES:
PROPHECY AT MARI AND IN ANCIENT ISRAEL
Robert P. Gordon
Modern study of near eastern (non-Israelite) prophecy,

whether as a subject in its own right or (usually) as back-
ground to the more lavishly illustrated Israelite phenomenon,
begins with Golenischeff's publication in 1899 of the Egyp-
tian Wen Amon text which relates an occurrence of ecstatic
prophesying in a temple at Byblos in the eleventh century
BCE.1 Since 1899 a number of texts illustrative of ancient
near eastern prophecy, and confirming that 'prophecy' in
some sense is indeed involved, have been forthcoming from a
number of near eastern sites, Mari in the mid-Euphrates
region being pre-eminent among them. In this study attention
will focus on texts from the second millennium that might be
regarded as precursors (if not progenitors) of the Israelite
phenomenon.
Strangely, the Ugaritic texts, which have shed light on
many other features of Israelite religion, have little to say on
prophecy.2 There are a couple of uninformative references to
'seers',3 and, in a text written in Akkadian, there is a mention
1. W. Gol6nischeff, 'Papyrus hieratique de la Collection W. Gol6ni-
scheff contenant la description du voyage de TSgyptien Ounou-Amon en
Ph6nicie', inRecueil de travaux relatifs a la philologie et a I'arcteologie
6gyptienn.es et assyriennes 21 (NS 5) (ed. G. Maspero; Paris: Librairie
Emile Bouillon, 1899), pp. 74-102 (text and translation into French,
pp.76-102). See also A. Erman, 'Eine Reise nach Phonizien im 11.
Jahrhundert v. Chr.', Zeitschrift fur agyptische Sprache und Mtertums-
kunde 38 (1900), pp. 1-14 (translation into German, pp. 4-14).
2. Cf. J. Gray, The Legacy of Canaan (VTSup, 5; Leiden: Brill, 2nd edn,
1965), p. 217.
3. See A.F. Rainey, "The Kingdom of Ugarit', BA 28 (1965), p. 123.
of 'ecstatics' (see below). To relieve some of this dearth,
Ringgren quotes, from the Baal epic, a speech by Kothar wa-
Uasis to Baal, in which he finds prophetic oracular form:
I tell you, 0 Prince Baal,
I repeat, O Rider of the Clouds:
Behold, your enemy, 0 Baal,
Behold, your enemy you shall smite,
Behold, you shall destroy your foes.
You shall take your eternal kingdom,
Your dominion for generation after generation.4
(CTA 2.4.7-10)
This oracle from a god to a god is therefore given the status of
a heavenly story with an earthly meaning in a way broadly
comparable with Thorkild Jacobsen's transposing of Sumerian
mythical references to the gods in council into political reality
('primitive democracy*) in the city-states of ancient Sumer.5
The Western Hypothesis

There has been a sustained interest in the prophetic texts
from Mari since the first publications. Further attention is
guaranteed by the appearance in 1988 of volume I/I of
Archives epistolaires de Mari (= ARM 26/1), which, as well as
the new material, includes a number of previously published
texts.6 In addition, an apilum text is included among the
letters of Yarim-Addu published in volume 1/2 of the same
series.7
4. H. Ringgren, 'Prophecy in the Ancient Near East', in Israel's

Prophetic Tradition. Essays in Honour of Peter R. Ackroyd (ed. R.J. Coggins,
A. Phillips and M.A. Knibb; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1982), p. 9.
5. T. Jacobsen, 'Primitive Democracy in Ancient Mesopotamia',
JNES 2 (1943), pp. 159-72 (= pp. 157-70 in Toward the Image of
Tammuz and Other Essays on Mesopotamian History and Culture [ed.
W.L. Moran; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1970]).
6. J.-M. Durand, Archives Epistolaires de Mari, I/I (ARM, 26; Paris:
Editions Recherche sur les Civilisations, 1988), pp. 375-452 (= AEM). The
texts discussed in this study follow Durand's numbering, but normally
they also carry the older classification.
7. D. Charpin et al., Archives epistolaires de Mari, 1/2 (ARM, 26; Paris:
GORDON From Mart to Moses 65
The most notable feature of the newly published texts is the
occurrence of an Akkadian cognate of the Hebrew nabi'
('prophet') in text 216 (A. 2209), in which Tebi-geri-su reports
on his consultation of Hanean prophets about the safety of
the king of Mari.8 Tebi-geri-su says that he assembled the
lu
/ia-6i-tmeS£a ha-na-mes the day after he arrived at Asmad
in order to discover whether it would be safe for the king to
engage in a ritual lustration outside the walls of his city. It is
only in recent years that such possible cognates of the Hebrew
nabi' have begun to be canvassed. Apart from the claimed
existence of a cognate at Ebla,9 there are occurrences of a
form munabbitu in thirteenth-century texts from the Syrian
city of Emar. Each of the three occurrences of the word is
associated with the goddess Isfrara, and one suggestion
(which still requires corroboration) is that the word means
'prophetesses'.10
The description of the prophets in text 216 as 'Hanaean'
seems to link this particular form of prophecy with the West
Semites, since the £Ianaeans are well known as an Amorite
element within the population of Mesopotamia.11 At first sight,
therefore, there appears to be evidence of the western origin
of at least some elements of Mesopotamian prophecy. This case
has already been put by Malamat in relation to what he calls
'intuitive prophecy', and without the benefit of text 216.
Editions Recherche sur les Civilisations, 1988), pp. 177-79 (text 371 [A.
428]).
8. AEM I/I, p. 444 (line 7). See also D.E. Fleming, 'LU and MES in
ld
na-6i-imes and its Man Brethren', NABU (1993/1), pp. 2-4.
9. See G. Pettinato, The Royal Archives of Tell Mardikh-Ebla', BA 39
(1976), p. 49.
10. See D. Arnaud, Recherches au pays d'Astata Emar. VI/3. Textes
sumeriens et accadiens (Paris: Editions Recherche sur les Civilisations,
1986), texts 373 (line 97), 379 (line 12), 383 (line 10). Cf. A. Tsukimoto,
'Emar and the Old Testament: Preliminary Remarks', Annual of the
Japanese Biblical Institute 15 (1989), pp. 4-5.
11. Cf. M. Anbar, h$btym h'mwryym bm'ry whtnhlwt bny-ysr'l bkn'n
(Tel Aviv: Tel Aviv University, 1985), pp. 72-74, 149-61; A. Malamat,
Mari and the Early Israelite Experience (The Schweich Lectures of the
British Academy, 1984; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989), pp. 38-
39, 99, etc.
Malamat observed that there are more West Semitic idioms
and linguistic forms in the prophecies as compared with the
other Mari texts, and he surmised that the original messages
may have been in Amorite and subsequently rendered into
Akkadian, 'the language of the chancery*.12
This £Ianaean connection was anticipated by J.F. Ross in an
article published in 1970 which now deserves a fresh inspec-
tion in the light of text 216.13 Ross sought to establish a com-
mon background for prophecy at Hamath and in Israel, with
Mari and its satellite tribespeople, the Hanaeans, supplying
that background. The eighth-century Zakkur inscription from
Hamath is crucial for Ross's theory.14 Ilu-wer in line 1 of the
inscription is identified by Ross with the god Itur-mer who
was worshipped at Mari and, after the downfall of Mari, at
£Iana. Moreover, Ross thought that Zakkur's reference to
himself as an '§ fnh (side A, line 2) should be understood to
mean 'man of £Iana', thus establishing a link between Mari
and Hamath via Amorite £Iana. However, it remains more
likely that's 'nh in the Zakkur inscription should be trans-
lated by Tiumble man': 'I was a humble man, but the lord of
heaven [rescued] me'—and this despite Ross's defence of the
&/'equation on the questionable analogy offr,a-bi-ru = 'pr.
The West Semite hypothesis on the origins of Mari prophecy
is, for that matter, not uncontested in recent discussion of the
subject. Malamat himself had to acknowledge that four of the
mufyfyum prophets who are named in the Mari texts have
Akkadian names, though he tried to explain this as the result
of assimilation to the dominant language of the region.15 The
hypothesis is seriously questioned by Maria deJong Ellis in a
recent article in which she suggests a connection between
traditional Babylonian divinatory practices and Old Baby-
lonian prophecy.16 Such a link is already suggested by the Old
12. Malamat, Mari and the Early Israelite Experience, pp. 84-85.
13. J.F. Ross, 'Prophecy in Hamath, Israel, and Mari', HTR 63 (1970),
pp. 1-28.
14. Text in H. Donner and W. Ro'llig, Kanaandische und aramaische
Inschriften, I (Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1966), p. 37.
15. Malamat, Man and the Early Israelite Experience, p. 86.
16. M. deJong Ellis, 'Observations on Mesopotamian Oracles and
Babylonian bdrum text published by Goetze in 1968, which
has the diviner praying to Shamash in the following terms:
O Shamash, I am placing in my mouth pure cedar...
Being now clean, I shall draw near to the assembly of the gods
for judgment (a-na pu-hu-ur l-U e-te-eh-hi a-na di-nim)
(lines 1, 9-10).17
Access to the divine council provides, as we shall see, a point
of substantial contact between divinatory and prophetic
experiences.
DeJong Ellis finds further evidence of the link in an oracu-
lar text from Ishchali that is presented in the form of a letter
addressed by the goddess Kititum to King Ibalpiel of Esh-
nunna.18 There is no direct mention of the divine council in
the text; nevertheless the goddess's claim that she has been
regularly communicating the secrets of the gods to the king
appears to assume such a background. Thus, whereas
Malamat contrasted the barum with the prophet, with the
former viewed as an urban phenomenon and the latter as
semi-nomadic tribal in origin,19 deJong Ellis argues for a
6drum-prophecy continuum within Babylonia which, if it
involved a West Semitic connection, should at best be associ-
ated with West Semitic elements within the Old Babylonian
population.20
Prophetic Texts: Literary and Historiographic Considerations', JCS 41—

42 (1989), pp. 138-39, 145-46.
17. A. Goetze, 'An Old Babylonian Prayer of the Divination Priest', JCS
22 (1968), pp. 25-29 (25). Cf. also text A (HSM 7494) published by
I. Starr in The Rituals of the Diviner (Bibliotheca Mesopotamia, 12;
Malibu: Undena Publications, 1983), pp.30-36, esp. lines 13-19 (pp. 30-31).
18. M. deJong Ellis, The Goddess Kititum Speaks to King Ibalpiel.
Oracle Texts from Ishchali', in Man. Annales de recherches inter-
disciplinaires, V (Paris: Editions Recherche sur les Civilisations, 1987),
pp. 235-57.
19. A. Malamat, 'A Forerunner of Biblical Prophecy: The Man
Documents', in Ancient Israelite Religion (Festschrift F.M. Cross; ed.
P.O. Miller, PD. Hanson and SD. McBride; Philadelphia: Fortress Press,
1987), p. 37.
20. Mart. Annales de recherches interdisciplinaires, V, p. 257.
Ecstatic Prophecy
The two most frequently mentioned terms for 'prophet' at
Mari are, of course, apilum and mub,fyum, and much has
been written already about their functional and social signi-
ficance. The newer texts from Mari shed further light on both
categories.21 As noted above, Ugarit provides one of the most
striking references to the mufyfrum type, in an Akkadian text
dating approximately to 1300 BCE.
ahu-u-a ki-ma mah-he-e [d]a-mi-§u-nu ra-am-qu
'my brothers like ecstatics (in) their (b)lood washed'
(RS 25.460).
The possibility of comparison with the self-lacerating Baalistic
prophets of 1 Kgs 18.28-29 and with the prophet of Zech.
13.5-6 is obvious enough.22
Durand thinks that the Mari texts give a further indication
of the life-style of the average mulj.lj.um in the fact that the
word etqum (basically 'fleece') is used of the hair of a mufr-a
fyum in preference to the more common and less expressive
sartum ('hair').23 However, the matter is not as simple as that.
As Durand himself notes, etqum is also used by the high
official Sumu-Hadu in reference to his own hair in text 182
(A. 2135). This balances the fact that in the Gilgamesh Epic
Enkidu in his uncivilized phase sports an etqum (I, ii 37).
Moreover, it is only text 215 (A. 455) that uses etqum to
describe the hair of a mubfrum.24 The more usual term sartum
occurs in relation to a mufrbum in texts 200 (M. 6188) and
201 (A. 368), just as it does in connection with an apilum
(texts 204 [A. 2264], 219 [M. 13496 + M. 15299]), assinnum
21. For comment on the apilum, see the concluding section of this
article.
22. Cf. J.J.M. Roberts, 'A New Parallel to 1 Kings 18.28-29', JBL 89
(1970), pp. 76-77.
23. AEM I/I, pp. 387-88.
24. Text 234 (= ARM 13.112), which Durand includes in his section on
dreams, also uses etqum, though, as generally with dream reports, there
is no mention of a muhhum.
(text 213 [A. 100]) and qammatum (text 203 [A. 963]).25 The
occurrence of etqum in text 215 should perhaps also be seen
in the light of certain 'irregularities' in this text, as Nakata
has described them.26 In particular, text 215 reverses the
usual order of Tiair and hem' as compared with other dream
reports that deal with the authentication of a prophet through
the familiar method of checking a lock of hair and a hem
belonging to the individual concerned.27 The idea of the
hirsute prophet also surfaces in Durand's discussion of the
qammatum in text 203 (A. 963). Durand insists that the
usually preferred form qabbatum ('speaker'?) cannot be
supported, and that qammatum indicates the hairy condition
of the 'prophetess'.28
More illuminating than any of this crinal curiosity is text
206 (A. 3893) in which a mufrbum devours a raw (baltussu)
lamb and announces a 'devouring* (u-ku-ul-tum) that threat-
ens the country.29 The acted parable-cum-wordplay is of a
kind familiar in the Hebrew Bible, but the crudity of the
action exceeds anything attributed to the Israelite prophets.
Prophecies and Dreams

At this point we have to confront the question of definition
raised by Nakata, who has argued that prophecies and dreams
in the Mari texts should be sharply distinguished.30 He makes
a number of points chiefly concerned with the identity of the
sources and of the recipients of the communications, the pre-
sence or absence of patterns of reporting, and the content of
the messages reported. An additional reason given for the
25. See also the short list in F. Ellermeier, Prophetic in Mari und Israel
(Theologische und orientalistische Arbeiten, 1; Herzberg: Verlag Erwin
Jungfer, 1968), pp. 98-99.
26. I. Nakata, 'Two Remarks on the So-Called Prophetic Texts from
Mari', Acta Sumerologica 4 (1982), pp. 144, 147 n. 11.
27. The order 'hem and hair (etqum)' also occurs in text 234r. (= ARM
13.112), lines 12-13.
28. AEM I/I, p. 396. Malamat ('A Forerunner of Biblical Prophecy5,
p. 38) argues for the older explanation from qabu ('speak').
29. AEM I/I, pp. 434-35.
30. Acta Sumerologica 4 (1982), pp. 143-44.
clear differentiation between the two types of report is the
belief that prophecy belongs to the cultural sphere of the West
Semites, while communication by dreams and visions is a con-
cept widely diffused throughout the ancient near east.31
Durand observes this distinction in AEM I/I, except that
ARM 10.9 (A. 2233) is included in his section on prophetic
texts (no. 208). Whether, in the end, the distinction between
prophecy and dream/vision is useful is a good question. It is
noticeable that Durand thinks that in most cases the second
group could be entitled 'dreamed prophecies' (propheties
revees).32 Moreover, as we have seen, the assumption of a
West Semitic matrix for prophecy is open to question, and it is
certainly not a very secure plank in the case for dividing
between Mari prophecies and dreams. Furthermore, if we look
more closely at the dream reports we shall find that, whatever
the differences from the prophecies, there are significant
points of parallel and overlap, which is partly why none of
Nakata's criteria enjoys absolute status: there are always
exceptions and qualifications to be entered.
The closeness of the two categories of prophecy and dream is
also suggested by the way in which they are associated in a
couple of the texts. Thus Durand's text 227 (M. 9576) recounts
a dream experienced by a woman whose name is only partly
preserved; in it she sees the mubfrtim prophets Hadnu-El and
Iddin-Kubi 'alive' and reports what they said.33 In text 237 (A
994 = ARM 10.50) Addu-durf recounts two disturbing dreams
that she had, relating to the fall of Mari, while the same text
reports an oracular utterance of a mubbum warning Zimri-
Lim to remain at Mari.34 It is all very well to divide a text like
this into three sections (10.50 a-c), as does Nakata, but this
categorizing should not be allowed to obscure the fact that
dreams and prophetic oracle coexist in the one text. It is also
the case that the familiar liair and hem' authentication of the
person mediating the communication applies to the dreamers
31. Cf. A.L. Oppenheim, Ancient Mesopotamia (rev. edn; Chicago:

University of Chicago Press, 1977), p. 221.
32. AEM I/I, p. 459.
33. AEM VI, p. 467.
34. AEM I/I, pp. 478-79.
GORDON From Man to Moses 71
as well as the prophets (texts 226 [M. 9034], 229 [A. 222], 234
[M. 13841], 237 [A. 994]). The mention of the fact that the
'hair and hem' had not been obtained in one instance (text
233 [A. 15]) also attests their importance, even in relation to
dreams. Finally, text 240 (A. 3424) appears to conclude with a
request for a present, and, as we shall see, there was a
practice of giving presents to prophets out of palace resources.
The Divine Council

One of the distinguishing features of Hebrew prophecy in its
most developed phase is the sense of prophetic vocation exem-
plified in, for example, the books of Hosea and Jeremiah—
and, we need not doubt, in the individuals whose careers lie
behind the books. Some hint of this outlook is found in the
first canonical occurrence of 'prophet' in the Hebrew Bible, at
Gen. 20.7, where Abraham is so described because of the
intercessory function that he is capable of discharging on
behalf of the king of Gerar.
This vocational aspect of prophecy comes specially to
prominence in the idea of the 'divine council', rejected as part
of the polytheistic 'old order' in Psalm 82,35 but a productive
source of imagery for a number of Old Testament texts.36 In
Babylonian parlance this is the pufyur Hi, heavenly counter-
part of the earthly citizen assembly. The idea of the divine
council assumes an important role as regards the authentica-
tion of Hebrew prophets (see especially Jer. 23.9-40), but it
has become increasingly clear that, far from the idea of
prophetic participation in the divine council being unique to
Israel,37 non-Israelite prophecy could be represented within a
35. See, for example, C.H. Gordon, 'History of Religion in Psalm 82', in
Biblical and Near Eastern Studies (Festschrift W.S. LaSor; ed.
G.A. Tuttle; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1978), pp. 129-31.
36. Cf. E.T. Mullen, The Assembly of the Gods: The Divine Council in
Canaanite and Early Hebrew Literature (HSM, 24; Chico, CA: Scholars
Press, 1980).
37. Pace Mullen, The Assembly of the Gods, p. 218 (esp. n. 181 on Man,
'no concept of the prophet standing in the assembly of the gods is to be
found in this material'); similarly M.E. Polley, 'Hebrew Prophecy within
the Council of Yahweh, Examined in its Ancient Near Eastern Setting1, in
similar framework. We have already noted the Old Baby-
lonian bar urn text published by Goetze as relevant also to
Mesopotamian prophecy. In Mari text 208 (A. 2233) some-
one—possibly Qisti-Dmtim, the apilum of the obverse—
reports a discussion among the gods of the circle of Ea. Despite
the fragmentariness of the text, it appears that the prophet is
witnessing a session of a divine council.
Durand's text 196 (A. 3719) also deserves inclusion here.38
Again the text is incomplete, but it is evident that what is
being described is a session of a divine council. Dagan
summons Tispak, the god of Eshnunna, in order to pass
judgment upon him: his day (?) has passed, and he will 'meet
his day* just as had the city of Ekallatum.39 The god Yakrub-
El is also mentioned, as is the city-god £Ianat who asks Dagan
not to forget the judgment that he has delivered. Although the
text is deficient at the precise point where the session of the
gods is introduced, the preceding references to Samas-nasir's
waiting for an oracle in Dagan's temple in Terqa make it pos-
sible that what follows is a dream report.
This is clearly the case in the much later Balaam text from
Deir 'Alia in Transjordan (c. 700 BCE), according to which the
seer Balaam wept after hearing the decision of the gods
meeting in council.40 There is no explicit mention of the council
Scripture in Context. Essays on the Comparative Method (ed. C.D. Evans,

W.W. Hallo and J.B. White; PTMS, 34; Pittsburgh: Pickwick Press, 1980),
p. 151.
38. ARM I/I, pp. 422-23.
39. There is some uncertainty about u-ud-ka (lines 8-9 [rev.]), here
translated 'day*, following Durand. Durand (p. 411) also refers to the
occurrence ofu4-mu-su qe-er-bu ('his days are near*) in text 212 (A. 3217
= ARM 10.6). Cf. the discussion by J.-G. Heintz, Aux origines d'une
expression biblique: umuSu qerbu, en A.R.M. X/6, 8'?', VT 21 (1971),
pp. 528-40.
40. For the text see J. Hoftijzer and G. van der Kooij, Aramaic Texts
from Deir 'Alia (Leiden: Brill, 1976); JA. Hackett, The Balaam Text from
Deir 'Alia (HSM, 31; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1984). On the divine
council in the Deir 'Alia text, see M. Weippert, The Balaam Text from
Deir 'Alia and the Study of the Old Testament', in The Balaam Text from
Deir 'Alia Re-evaluated (ed. J. Hoftijzer and G. van der Kooij; Leiden: Brill,
1991), pp. 151-84 (169-74).
in the Ishchali text published by deJong Ellis, but, as was

noted above, the disclosure of the secrets of the gods to
Ibalpiel is read by deJong Ellis against such a background.
This is probably to go beyond the evidence, even though it
may be granted that the concept of prophetic access to the
divine council could have been sufficiently familiar not to
need spelling out every time it was a factor in prophetic or
quasi-prophetic contexts. This may apply particularly to text
233 (A. 15) which reports the dream experience of Malik-
Dagan in the Dagan temple at Terqa:
Now go! I send you (a-li-ik d$-ta-pa-ar-ka).
Thus shall you speak to Zimri-Lim, saying...41
There is an obvious parallel with Isa. 6.8 CWhom shall I send,
and who will go for us?'), where also a meeting of the divine
council provides the context for Isaiah's commissioning.
It will have been noted that our evidence for the non-
Israelite, and especially Mari, prophets' experience of the
divine council comes from texts that report dreams. If the
already discussed distinction between prophecy and dreams/
visions were maintained, then, strictly speaking, the admission
of prophets to the divine council might still have to be
regarded as a biblical idea, so far as the present evidence goes.
However, it is probably in the nature of things that explicit
mention of the divine council—not to speak of descriptions of
its proceedings—should come in dream/vision reports. The
same applies in the Hebrew Bible where prophetic experience
of the divine council is, in the texts most quoted, of the
visionary kind (see 1 Kgs 22.19-22; Isa. 6.1-13; cf. Ezek. 1-2;
Zech. 3.1-10). It is not surprising, therefore, to find that in the
critique of 'false prophecy' in Jer. 23.9-40 the contrast is
between standing in the council of Yahweh and experiencing
dreams. By implication, Jeremiah lays claim to the former (cf
w. 18, 22), whereas the opposing prophets take their stand on
visions/dreams (w. 16, 25 [1 have dreamed, I have dreamed'],
27, 28, 32).
In view of the easy association of witnessing the divine
council and dream experiences, we might conclude, then, that
41. AEM I/I, p. 473 (lines 32-33).

Jeremiah 23 tilts especially against the idea that the 'false
prophets' have experience of the divine council in their
dreams. The dream/vision may be the normal mechanism by
which the experience is gained, but the idea that there is an
underlying reality in which these prophets have participated
is rejected. So far as the generality of prophetic texts—
whether in the Bible or at Mari—is concerned, it would be a
reasonable assumption that, in some instances at least, the
idea of the divine council is somewhere in the background.
Policy suggests that it is so for Amos's visions (Amos 7.1-9; 8.1-
2; 9.1), and though this is not explicitly said in the text it
remains a possibility.42
Messenger Prophets
The messenger function of the prophets, whether at Mari or
in Israel, may also presuppose the admission of the prophet to
the divine council before the divine/royal message is delivered
to its intended recipient. An indication of this messenger func-
tion of the Mari prophet may lie in the practice of giving
rewards to prophets, just as was the case with the mar siprim.
Malamat notes that there are references in Mari adminis-
trative texts to 'prophets' as recipients of presents, usually of
clothing, from the palace.43 In one text (ARM 9.22.14) an
apilum is involved, but usually it is a mubfytim (ARM 21.333.
34; 22.167r.8; 23.446.9, 19; 25.142.3) or mubfrutum (22.326.6-
10). Malamat's interpretation of this is that the Mari prophets
'received material support from the royal court', and that they
were to some extent comparable with the so-called 'court
prophets' of Israel, or with the Baal and Asherah prophets
maintained at the court of Ahab and Jezebel. Durand also
comments on the giving of presents to prophets, building on
references in three prophetic texts that he presents in AEM
42. M.E. Polley, Amos and the Davidic Empire: A Socio-Historical

Approach (New York: Oxford University Press, 1989), p. 11.
43. Malamat, Mari and the Early Israelite Experience, p. 86. See also
Malamat's short note, 'Parallels between the New Prophecies from Mari
and Biblical Prophecy: II) Material Remuneration for Prophetic Services',
NABU (1989/4), pp. 63-64.
44
I/I. A qammatum (see above) of Dagan of Terqa delivered
herself of a warning message and received a garment and
a nose-ring (serreturn) from the palace as reward (text 199
[A. 925 + A. 2050], lines 51-52). Durand also thinks that the
poorly preserved text 203 (A. 963) reflects a similar arrange-
ment with a qammatum (lines 13-15), while the savage mufy-
fyum of text 206 (A. 3893) actually asks for an item of clothing
in return for his dramatic contribution (lines 23-24). Durand's
texts certainly support the view that the 'prophetic presents'
were given as a reward for messages delivered, just as with
(other) royal messengers.
The same may also apply to the references in the adminis-
trative documents cited by Malamat. Indeed, text A. 4674
(ARM 25.142), which is quoted in part by Malamat, points
quite convincingly to the 'messenger reward' interpretation. A
mufyfrum of Adad received a silver ring 'when he delivered an
oracle for the king* (i-nu-ma te-er-tam a-na lugal id-di-nu).
Significantly, this follows a reference to a present given to an
individual 'who brought the news' (§[a] bu-su-ur-tam ub-
Zam).45 The messenger function of the Mari prophets therefore
seems to be confirmed by the way in which they received
presents for messages delivered. This, rather than a main-
tained status at court, appears to be indicated by the various
texts that we have considered.
Prophecy, Accountability, Ethics

The growing amount of prophetic material coming to light
at Mari in particular renders impossible the claim of H.M.
Orlinsky that 'it is divination, and not prophecy, that finds its
parallels in the Mari and other social structures and
documents in the Fertile Crescent of old'.46 This judgment was
44. See AEM I/I, p. 380.

45. This latter clause is given in the form quoted by Durand, AEM I/I,
p. 380.
46. H.M. Orlinsky, The Seer in Ancient Israel', OrAnt 4 (1965), pp. 153-
74 (170). Such comparisons as Orlinsky allows are between near eastern
'prophets' ('diviners') and Israelite 'seers'—which latter he distinguishes
sharply from the classical prophets.
based on a small number of published texts and, for example,
was pronounced in advance of the publication of volume 10 of
Archives royales de Man'.47 Dismissive accounts of near
eastern prophecy that reject it as in no way comparable with
the biblical phenomenon become more visibly wide of the
mark as the number of available texts increases and as their
contents are more thoroughly analysed. Nor should it be for-
gotten that the multifarious prophecy of ancient Israel was
often nationalistic in outlook, sometimes mundane in its pre-
occupations, and frequently concerned with the royal house.
While the Mari prophets were generally supportive of the
national dynasty, it is not true to say that they were com-
pletely uncritical of the royal house. The unconditional under-
taking of Annunitum to Zimri-Lim in text 214 (A. 671) is bal-
anced by the fact that Zimri-Lim is informed in another (233
[A. 15]) that, if he had been reporting fully to Dagan, the god
'would long ago have delivered the kings of the Yaminites
fully into the power of Zimri-Lim' (lines 29-31).
Again, in a letter from Nur-Sin to Zimri-Lim (A. 1121) the
god Adad declares that, since he had restored Zimri-Lim as
national dynastic ruler in Mari, he was entitled to an estate
(jiifylatum) in return.48
If he does not give (it), I am lord of throne, territory and city, and
what I have given I shall take away. If, on the other hand, he
fulfils my desire, I shall give him throne upon throne, territory
upon territory, city upon city; and I shall give him the land from
the east to the west (lines 21-28).
This is reported as a message relayed through apilum-
prophets, and its implication as regards the possibility of
negative action by Adad is clear. The same is indicated by
Nur-Sin's expression of anxiety lest, in the event of anything
47. This volume, published in 1978, contains the majority of the Mari
prophetic texts published in advance ofAEM I/I.
48. The text is scheduled to appear in Archives epistolaires de Mari 1/3.
For text and translation see B. Lafont, 'Le roi de Mari et les prophetes du
dieu Adad', RA 78 (1984), pp. 7-18; for English translation and discussion
see A. Malamat, 'A Mari Prophecy and Nathan's Dynastic Oracle', in
Prophecy (Festschrift G. Fohrer; ed. J.A.a Emerton; Berlin: de Gruyter,
1980), pp. 68-82.
untoward ever occurring, he should be blamed for not having
communicated important messages to Zimri-Lim (lines 34-45).
While text A. 1121 could in no sense be called a 'judgment
oracle', its tone is far from that of unconditional commitment
or patronal monocularity on the part of the god in question.49
It is a familiar charge against near eastern prophecy that it
lacks the socio-ethical awareness of its biblical counterpart. So
Blenkinsopp turns to Egyptian ethical teaching as a likely
source of inspiration for the social protest of the Israelite
prophets.50 This does not mean, however, that Blenkinsopp
regards the Egyptian texts as in any sense 'prophetic'—
malgre the heading 'Egyptian Oracles and Prophecies' that
introduces a section including the 'Admonitions of Ipu-wer*
and the 'Prophecy of Neferti' in Pritchard's Ancient Near
Eastern Texts.51 Moreover, the point that the proper locus of
Egyptian 'prophetic' material is within the wisdom genre has
been argued in two recent articles by Shupak.52 Furthermore,
if the concept of prophecy is elasticated to include Egyptian
ethical texts, may we not just as legitimately appeal to ethical
material in, say, Mesopotamian non-prophetic texts (e.g.
'Advice to a Prince')?53
There is, in any case, some hint of ethical concern in the
Mari prophecies, as a number of writers have noted in con-
nection with text A. 1121. There Zimri-Lim is counselled by
Adad through an intermediary prophet: 'When a wronged
49. For a comparison of this text with both the Heilswort and the
Unheilswort in 1 Kgs 9.1-9 see A. Schmitt, Prophetischer Gottesbescheid in
Mari und Israel: Eine Strukturuntersuchung (BWANT, 114; Stuttgart:
Kohlhammer, 1982), pp. 65-87 (81-87).
50. J. Blenkinsopp, A History of Prophecy in Israel (London: SPCK,
1984), pp. 55-56.
51. J.B. Pritchard, Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old
Testament (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 3rd edn, 1969),
pp. 441-49 (441).
52. N. Shupak, 'Egyptian "Prophetic" Writings and Biblical Wisdom
Literature', BN 54 (1990), pp. 81-102; idem, 'Egyptian "Prophecy" and
Biblical Prophecy', Shnaton 11 (1990), pp. 1-40. I have not been able to
consult this latter study.
53. See W.G. Lambert, Babylonian Wisdom Literature (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1960), pp. 110-15.
man or woman cries out to you, stand and judge their case'.54
Text 232 (A. 907) shows how this might apply in practice. A
woman whose servant (?) had been abducted was instructed
by Dagan in a dream to carry a message to Zimri-Lim telling
him that he was held responsible for the girl's safe return.
Since there is no suggestion that Zimri-Lim was implicated in
the abduction, it evidently was as king and law-maker that he
was held responsible. We now also have Durand's text 194
(A. 4260) in which Shamash instructs Zimri-Lim through an
dpilum to declare a remission of debts (andurarum) and to
send those who had a legal case to the feet of Shamash (lines
41-46).55 The text is one of a small number collected in a sec-
tion headed 'Echange de lettres avec les dieux', but it is no
less significant on that account.
Prophecy Alfresco
The study of the ancient pre-Israelite prophetic texts tends to
confirm the view voiced earlier in this discussion, viz. that the
more we learn about the non-Israelite version the less wide
the gap between it and its Israelite counterpart appears.
Further illustration of this point may be found in the proph-
etic text 371 (A. 428) published by Charpin in AEM I/2.56 In
the first place, the prophet figure is described as an apilum of
Marduk (a-pt-lum sa damar-utu [line 9]), which, at least on
the surface, associates the phenomenon of prophecy directly
with Babylon and not just with the West Semites. (The text
apparently was written in Babylon.) It may be that a Mari
term has been used for a functionary who bore another title
in Babylon,57 but there is a danger here of special pleading.
This apilum of Marduk does not deliver his oracle within
the confines of a temple as in various other instances (e.g.
texts 195, 199, 209, 214), but at the door of the royal palace
in Babylon and then at the door of Ishme-Dagan's residence,
and in the hearing of the general populace. He differs in this
54. Cf. Lafont, Xe roi de Mari', pp. 10-11 (lines 53-54).

55. See AEM I/I, pp. 405, 418.
56. AEM 1/2, pp. 177-78.
57. So Charpin, AEM 1/2, p. 179.
last respect from the apilum who delivered a message at the
door of the palace in text 208, and even from the mufyfyum
who spoke in the hearing of the elders at Saggaratum (text
206). At the door of Ishme-Dagan the apilum of text 371
addresses him in the second person, using the words of
Marduk himself as the god proclaims his displeasure at
several of Ishme-Dagan's actions. Here prophecy has come out
into the public arena and has, if one may so speak, taken
another step in the direction of its biblical counterpart. We
may expect that, with further publication of texts and their
detailed analysis, the delineation of the Mari prophets will
become still clearer. This could even have uncovenanted
benefits for those members of the goodly fellowship of biblical
prophets who have suffered loss of status amid current
preoccupation with prophetic redactors and with prophecy as
first and foremost a bookish phenomenon.
I am delighted to offer this short study for inclusion in the

Festschrift for Norman Whybray, among whose major contri-
butions to Old Testament scholarship the study of the
prophets has featured prominently.58
58. I should like to thank J. Nicholas Postgate for his helpful com-
ments on this paper, and especially for his advice on some of the finer
points of Akkadian spelling. Since this article went to press a discussion
with a bearing on the concluding paragraphs above has been published by
S.B. Parker ('Official Attitudes toward Prophecy at Mari and in Israel', VT
43 [1993], pp. 50-68).
PROPHECY—TRUE AND FALSE
Richard J. Coggins
1. The topic of 'false prophecy' has been much discussed; all

the standard treatments of prophecy in ancient Israel devote
some attention to it, and there have been numerous articles,
and even books, with false prophecy, and the rivalry between
different prophets, as their basic theme.1 Nevertheless, the
feeling remains that many such discussions, valuable though
they are, fail to address some of the issues at stake in the
problem of false prophecy. This essay makes no claim that it
will address all such issues, but it may serve to provoke
further reflection, partially at least by drawing attention to
some aspects of the problem that tend to be overlooked.
2. There is clearly a sense in which any office can be ineffec-

tively discharged, because the holder is incompetent, or inade-
quately motivated, or has been corrupted by rivals, or for a
host of other reasons. Such limitations are so commonplace as
not to need illustration; it is part of the human condition that
people will from time to time find themselves in, or be chosen
for, offices that subsequent experience shows them to be
incapable of discharging competently. In such cases it may
often be difficult to know where inadequacy ends and falsity
begins, for few will acknowledge openly that they cannot cope
with a task; the temptation to give a false impression that one
is coping is a powerful one, both among the holders of office
1. Among the standard surveys see J. Lindblom, Prophecy in Ancient

Israel (Oxford: Blackwell, 1962), pp. 210-15; J. Blenkinsopp, A History of
Prophecy in Israel (London: SPCK, 1984), pp. 184-88; and, with specific
reference to Jeremiah, R.P. Carroll, From Chaos to Covenant (London:
SCM Press, 1981), pp. 192-97. See also n. 11 below.
COGGINS Prophecy—True and False 81
and among those whose own position is in any way tied up
with the successful discharge of that office.
2.1. There is also a different, and no less important, sense in
which the holders of an office may be regarded as incompe-
tent. That arises when they are the victims of calumny from
their rivals. In the modern West that state of affairs is most
common—at least in public—with politicians, so that we
should feel that those in opposition were scarcely fulfilling
their role unless they were questioning the competence and
integrity of those in government (and, of course, a government
will raise exactly the equivalent doubts about the opposition).
But plenty of examples from the contemporary world show
that in other fields too, not least in religion, rival claims to
understanding of the truth may excite bitter controversy.
2.2. Our knowledge of the ancient world in general and of
Israel in particular suggests that it too could provide plenty of
examples in each of these categories. (The British Museum in
1990 mounted an exhibition on 'Fakes', and it is interesting to
note that the section of the catalogue dealing with the use of
documents to misrepresent reality begins by asserting that in
the ancient world 'the perpetrators of such frauds were often
priests'.2)
2.2.1. In the Hebrew Bible, priests and prophets are often
condemned for their inadequacy in face of the great respon-
sibilities with which they were entrusted. Thus, it appears as
if the condemnation of the 400 court prophets in 1 Kings 22 is
of this kind; particularly would this be true if Jehoshaphat's
scepticism as to the reliability of their advice ('Is there not
another prophet of the LORD of whom we may enquire?', v. 7)
is to be understood as anything more than a literary device on
the part of the narrator. Similar in kind may well be the
dismissal of the prophets, along with other religious figures,
in Hos. 4.4-6; Isaiah's scathing denunciation of drunken
priests and prophets (Isa. 28.7); the scorn of Jeremiah in the
section 'Concerning the Prophets' in 23.9-32; and quite
possibly Amos's apparent rejection of any suggestion that he
2. M. Jones (ed.), Fake? The Art of Deception (London: British

Museum, 1990), p. 59. I am grateful to Professor Alan Millard for sup-
plying me with the details of this reference.
was one of the prophets (Amos 7.14). In all these instances
the 'falsity' of the prophets seems to lie primarily in their
alleged inadequacy to perform the tasks to which they had
been called.
2.2.2. But to some extent in these passages, and still more
elsewhere, we find language that makes it appear as if the
condemnation is nearer to our second category: vilification on
ideological grounds. This may well be the case in all the pas-
sages already referred to, but it can most readily be
illustrated from the attack upon prophets found in Mic. 3.5
('the prophets who lead my people astray, who cry "Peace"
when they have something to eat, but declare war against
him who puts nothing into their mouths'). This is, as we have
seen, one of several such condemnations in the texts dealing
with prophets; we need note only that they are often taken
entirely at their face value by modern scholars, with no
serious consideration being given to the possible underlying
ideological viewpoint. Thus one of the most highly regarded of
recent commentaries on Micah is able to assert of those here
condemned: 'Selfish expediency had become their criterion for
the content of their oracles, on the principle that he who pays
the piper calls the tune. Eventually they were in the prophecy
business for what they could get out of it. Corrupted by cupid-
ity, they turned into religious charlatans, dressing with the
right prophetic trimmings their bogus oracles'.3
2.3. It will be observed that this exegesis is already (and it
goes on at greater length) reading a good deal into Micah's
own much briefer condemnation. Here surely is a clear
example of our second model: calumny of rivals as part of
3. L.C. Allen, The Books of Joel, Obadiah, Jonah and Micah

(NICOT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1976), p. 311. Broadly similar ways
of expressing the matter can be found in many other commentaries; see
for example J.L. Mays, Micah (OTL; London: SCM Press, 1976), pp. 82-
83. More complex is the view of AS. van der Woude, who maintains that
the words of the 'false prophets' can actually be found within our
present book of Micah ('Micah in Dispute with the Pseudo-Prophets', VT
19 [1969], pp. 244-60), a view that he placed in the larger context of the
eighth-century prophets in his essay 'Three Classical Prophets', in
Israel's Prophetic Tradition (ed. R.J. Coggins et al.; Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1982), pp.32-57, esp. pp. 49-50.
one's role expectations. We have no additional information to
enable us to know whether Micah's harsh criticism was
justified. No doubt his strictures have an internal logic; there
will always be those who defy even the most unpromising
circumstances with messages that all is going to be well, and
indeed in many situations the role of religious spokespeople
has been perceived as that of giving messages of encourage-
ment in times of gloom. Micah may well have been right in
warning that the situation was more serious than the
prophets whom he condemned, or those who gladly listened to
them, could really grasp. But it must equally be borne in
mind that Micah's words can be understood as part of an
ideologically based condemnation of those who differed from
himself. (We may in passing note that this condemnation has
often been understood to be part of a more general condem-
nation of groups described as 'official' or 'cultic' prophets; it
may be so, but there is no clear indication of this in the text,
or adequate grounds for such assertions from our knowledge
of the religious structures of ancient Israel. When it is further
asserted that the condemnation is of all 'professional'
prophets, it seems as if the cult of the amateur is being
carried to almost ludicrous extremes, and one is reminded of
Groucho Marx's declining the offer of an operation by a gifted
amateur brain surgeon.)
2.4. It will be evident, therefore, that in ancient Israel, as in
other societies both ancient and modern, different religious
interpretations led to conflict, and that such conflict might
well have been expressed in harsh and bitter terms. Modern
studies that present the pre-exilic prophets, and Hosea in
particular, as part of a *Yahweh-alone movement', making
exclusive claims on behalf of Yahweh that were resisted by
those whose reading of the religious situation was different,
have offered one ground for the bitterness of these divisions.4
Whether or not that particular historical reconstruction of
events is acceptable, it is clear that by the early sixth century
BCE the governing orthodoxy was that Yahweh alone was
worthy of worship, and all those who proclaimed the worship
4. For the *Yahweh-alone' reading of Hosea, see B. Lang, Monotheism
and the Prophetic Minority (Sheffield: Almond Press, 1983), esp. ch. 1.
of other gods, or the worship of Yahweh in a manner that had
come to be regarded as unacceptable, were now to be dis-
missed as false. Here is one element of the theme of 'false
prophecy', a condemnation that could be applied equally to
priesthood and to any other religious office, merely because it
represented a rival view that came to be regarded as not
'politically correct'. It is not by chance that in Isaiah, Hosea
and Micah the condemnations of unacceptable prophets are
closely bound with those passages which speak harshly
against other religious figures.
3. Yet it is clear that 'false prophecy' is a term of condemna-

tion with much more powerful resonances than, for example,
'false priesthood'. In terms of the Hebrew Bible, false priest-
hood was exercised when those who in the speaker or writer's
view had no right to exercise such an office took such privi-
leges upon themselves; one thinks of the chilling stories of the
death of Nadab and Abihu in Lev. 10.1-3 or of King Uzziah's
'leprosy' in 2 Chron. 26.16-21. False prophecy, on the other
hand, came increasingly to be perceived as a problem inherent
in the very exercise of prophecy as such. In other words, the
proper exercise and understanding of prophecy came to be
inextricably tied to an understanding of prophecy as prediction.
3.1. For many modern students of the Old Testament, per-
haps especially those whose origins are in Protestant tradi-
tions, there is a further dimension inherent in the notion of
'false prophecy'. In those traditions priesthood has been
regarded with suspicion; as recently as 1956 the late H.H.
Rowley could write, in a book intended as a popular intro-
duction to the Old Testament and widely used as such, that
*We are accustomed to think of priests as inherently evil'.5 It
is fair to note that Rowley went on to warn against such an
automatic assumption, but it remains a revealing aside.
Presumably the comment arose from the religious tradition in
which he himself was reared, which must have entertained a
deep suspicion of 'priestcraft'. Prophets, on the other hand,
were figures to be held in honour, with, of course, the inherent
5. H.H. Rowley, The Faith of Israel (London: SCM Press, 1956),
p. 37.
danger that any falsity in the exercise of prophecy was of so
much the greater seriousness. The matter of true prediction
was once again of crucial relevance.
3.2. It is neither appropriate nor feasible in a short essay
such as this to rehearse in any detail the different views which
have been held as to the role of prophets in the monarchical
period in Israel. Despite the impressive attempts, particularly
by scholars in the USA, to plot the role and development of
prophetism in anthropological terms,6 it is by no means clear
that all the figures whom tradition has come to bracket
together as nebi'im are correctly so described, or would indeed
have recognized their kinship with one another.7 Insofar as
any common role can be discerned, it seems to consist of the
conveyance of what were claimed to be messages from God to
those in authority. Such a role must contain an element of
futurity: 'If you pursue this course of action, then that conse-
quence will follow'; but that is very different from regarding
their main task as announcing what the future would bring.
3.3. At some point, however, it is clear that a significant
change in perception took place, and prophets came to be
regarded, perhaps by themselves, and certainly by others who
recorded their words, as having a message essentially con-
cerned with future events. It is common to link this change of
perception with the Deuteronomistic movement, and though
it is important to avoid charges of 'pan-Deuteronomism'—the
Deuteronomists have sometimes been praised or blamed for
virtually every significant development within ancient Israel's
religious practice—we can at least say that the book of
Deuteronomy itself and the Deuteronomistic History afford us
6. See especially R.R. Wilson, Prophecy and Society in Ancient Israel

(Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1980); and D.L. Petersen, The Roles of
Israel's Prophets (JSOTSup, 17; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1981). Criticisms
made by C.S. Rodd COn Applying a Sociological Theory to Biblical
Studies', JSOT 19 [1981], pp. 95-106) have been carried further by
R.P. Carroll, 'Prophecy and Society', in The World of Ancient Israel (ed.
R.E. Clements; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), pp. 203-
25.
7. See the discussion of this issue by A.G. Auld, R.P. Carroll and
H.G.M. Williamson in JSOT 27 (1983), pp. 3-44, especially Carroll's
contribution, 'Poets, not Prophets'.
the first clear indications of such a shift.8 Alongside this, how-
ever, we may note that the process of preserving and adding
to the oracles of individual figures—Amos, Hosea, and so on—
provides additional testimony to the idea that a future element
of 'fulfilment' came to be regarded as an important aspect of
their messages. (Some scholars would of course see much of
this editing and redactional process as providing further indi-
cations of Deuteronomistic activity, but that issue need not
concern us here.) It may indeed be that this element was
important in the process by which these figures came to be
regarded as nebi'im, a role that in some cases at least (Amos
7.14 once again!) they had vigorously rejected in their lifetime.
3.4. It will at once be perceived that the prominence of the
idea of prediction adds a new dimension to the prophetic role,
and raises the question of falsity in a drastically new sense. A
prophet may be false because he or she is incompetent or
driven by unworthy motives of different kinds, but that, as we
have seen, is a kind of falsity with which holders of every kind
of office may be charged. Now, in addition, a prophecy, and
therefore the one who uttered it, may be false because its con-
tents are not fulfilled. The two groups of condemnation may
often be bracketed together when a particular individual or
group is accused; in principle, however, they are quite
distinct. In a modern capitalist society a financial adviser may
recommend clients to take particular investments, predicting
that they will prosper; if the investments collapse, that might
be connected with malpractice on the part of the adviser, but
might equally be traceable to other circumstances that could
not have been foreseen. The parallel with the prophets of
ancient Israel must not be pushed too far, but need not be
dismissed entirely; in whatever religious language it was
expressed, surely one element of prophetic prediction was
based on an intelligent assessment of the contemporary politi-
cal situation. There is an uneasy tension in some modern
8. The very extended discussions of prophecy, true and false, in

the volumes devoted to Hosea and Amos by F.I. Andersen and D.N.
Freedman (AB; New York: Doubleday, 1980, 1989) appear to take the
predictive role of prophecy for granted, without any attention to the
questionings of this understanding widely voiced in recent years.
studies of the prophets: on the one hand there is the desire to
praise them as politically shrewd, seeing deeper into the reali-
ties of the situation than their short-sighted contemporaries;
on the other hand the claim is often made that they were
above the sordid details of political life, and concerned only to
call their fellow-citizens back to the demands of the service of
God.
4. With these considerations in mind, it may be revealing to

take a fresh look at the role of prophets as set out in the
Deuteronomistic literature. Whereas in Genesis-Numbers
there is no section giving any systematic attention to the role
of prophets,9 it is clear that in the society described or envis-
aged by Deuteronomy 12-26 prophets had a significant place.
4.1. In the key passages, Deut. 13.1-5 and 18.15-22, it
appears as if two distinctive roles can be traced. In the first,
the prophet appears once again as the messenger between
God/the gods and the community, and the warning here is to
test the credentials of the prophet by ensuring that his or her
messages come from the appropriate God. Here the accuracy
of the prophet's words is not the main criterion; even if 'the
sign or wonder which he tells you comes to pass', that cannot
be any justification for turning to the worship of other gods,
regarded as false by the mono-Yahwistic author of
Deuteronomy.
4.1.2. In the second passage the emphasis is different. It is
in fact twofold. First, whereas in Num. 12.6-8 Moses' office is
contrasted with that of the prophets, here he is explicitly pre-
sented (for the first time in Deuteronomy) as a prophet; sec-
ondly, the role of prophets is very specifically linked with
future prediction. These two themes are, of course, much
more closely linked together than might at first sight appear.
If the Book of Deuteronomy is rightly understood as the
9. The references to prophets in Num. 11-12 are only a very partial

exception to this generalization. In Num. 11.24-29 prophets are highly
esteemed; in 12.6 prophetic inspiration is compared unfavourably with
the direct guidance given by God to Moses. It is impossible here to
examine possible reasons (source-critical, literary, social, etc.) for this
apparent discrepancy.
prelude to the complete Deuteronomistic History, then Moses'
predictive role is very strongly emphasized;10 his predictions
of the fate of the people can be seen as being borne out in the
whole of its subsequent history. By contrast with the false
pretensions of others who claimed to be prophets, Moses' role
was one that was substantiated by subsequent events. As has
often been noted, such a test of prophetic authenticity is of
little value when applied to the community's contemporary
and future situation, for by the time that a prophecy was
validated by being fulfilled the damage would have been done.
But as a means of showing how the community's present
situation had come about, having already been announced by
the true prophet Moses, it represented a powerful claim.
4.1.3. In the Deuteronomistic History itself the two episodes
most obviously relevant to the consideration of true and false
prophecy have often been studied.11 They are to be found in
1 Kings 13 and 22, each in a context concerned with relations
between the Southern and Northern kingdoms, a context, that
is to say, where the proper understanding of Mosaic prophecy
was of special significance. In these passages, too, the picture
of the true prophet as the one whose words came to pass and
the false prophet(s) being shown as such by their non-
fulfilment can readily be seen.
4.2. But the fact that in these stories the establishment of
fulfilment/non-fulfilment is so easily achieved raises an issue
that has not always been given its true significance. The
meaning of the words of the 'old prophet of Bethel', first a liar
and then a speaker of the truth, are unambiguous: Tour body
shall not come to the tomb of your fathers' (1 Kgs 13.22).
Again, Micaiah's message to the king of Israel is clear: 'If you
return in peace, the LORD has not spoken by me' (1 Kgs
22.28). Whatever the historicity of the events described in
10. See R. Polzin, Moses and the Deuteronomist (New York: Seabury
Press, 1980), particularly the discussion of authorial conventions in ch.
2, pp. 25-72.
11. For 1 Kgs 13, see especially J.L. Crenshaw, Prophetic Conflict
(BZAW, 124; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1971), esp. ch. 3, pp. 39-61; S.J. De
Vries, Prophet against Prophet (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979), is a
study devoted to the story in 1 Kgs 22.
these two chapters, the prophets' words are set out in a way
that leaves no room for doubt when we wish to establish who
is true and who false; what is required for their fulfilment is
clear and unambiguous.
4.2.1. The situation in the story of the confrontation between
Jeremiah and Hananiah in Jeremiah 28 is essentially similar.
(Whether the delay implied in w. 11 and 12 is a dramatic
device to heighten the tension of the story, or a clue to
Jeremiah's personality, showing him as liable to uncertainty
at times of strain, need not here concern us.) As the story is
told, Jeremiah announces that Hananiah will die before the
year is out, and 'in that same year, in the seventh month, the
prophet Hananiah died' (v. 17). Again the words of the true
prophet are unambiguously fulfilled.
4.2.2. Where a prophecy relates to the fate of an individual,
particularly if that fate is to be the person's death, the
question of truth/falsity can be established in ways that seem
to be beyond dispute. Disputes in ancient Israel between rival
groups of prophets may have been of this kind, and if so, we
are once again in the area of ideological tension between dif-
ferent understandings of the religious situation that we noted
at the beginning of this essay. Certainly the element of
mockery that is found in the Deuteronomistic stories relating
to false prophets comes in this category; the way in which
Zedekiah the son of Chenaanah and his colleagues are
described in 1 Kings 22 is surely aimed at making them look
foolish. In a sense their falsity is not their own fault, for they
have been deceived by a lying spirit from God's own council
(w. 22-23), but how different is our reaction from that engen-
dered by, say, the prologue to the story of Job, which also por-
trays the human victim of a divine conciliar decision. The
narrator's skill ensures that Job commands our sympathy; the
400 prophets look ridiculous. The account of Hananiah in
Jeremiah 28 is similar; we are again reminded of the powerful
element of ideological rivalry that underlies so much religious
dispute.
4.2.3. Another situation in which fulfilment is the vital
criterion can be noted if we turn once again to Micah, this
time with reference to the passage in which he announces the
inevitable downfall of Jerusalem (3.12). This passage provides
the only unambiguous instance in the Hebrew Bible of a
prophetic message being specifically referred to in another
prophetic collection, for it is discussed in Jer. 26.18-19.
Jerusalem had not fallen; but this does not mean that Micah
was dismissed or condemned as a false prophet on the
grounds that his prophecy had not been fulfilled. Rather, the
claim is made that Hezekiah's repentance had led Yahweh to
change his mind and spare the city, and such a claim cannot
readily be refuted. For those accepted as being within the true
prophetic succession ideological support could be provided,
and non-fulfilment of a particular prophecy was not an
insuperable barrier for those who were so accepted.
4.2.4. The problem of truth and falsity is, however, rarely as
straightforward as this. The stories referred to above are told
in such a way as to make it clear what will count as fulfilment
and non-fulfilment. For the most part, however, prophecies
that have been handed down in writing as part of a collection
of words attributed to an individual are rarely of this kind.
This is a problem to which we must now pay attention in the
context of the understanding of prophecy in the period of the
Second Temple.
5. In Second Temple Judaism it seems clear that the under-

standing of prophets and prophecy had come to be one that
saw them in terms of prediction. In Zech. 1.4-6 traces of what
may well be an older understanding, of prophets as messen-
gers commissioned to give warnings to the people, may still be
detected, but it would be difficult to find such an under-
standing in any material later than Zechariah. Increasingly
their words came to be understood as 'oracles of God'
revealing to his servants God's unfolding purpose for
his people.12 How in such a context was the issue of false
12. J. Barton (Oracles of God: Perceptions of Ancient Prophecy in

Israel after the Exile [London: Barton, Longman & Todd, 1986]) provides
an admirably clear exposition of the chief ways in which prophecy came
to be understood in this later period. This understanding of prophecy
also provides the rationale underlying the application by R.P. Carroll
and others of the psychological theory of 'cognitive dissonance' to
prophets and false prophecy to be dealt with?
5.1. That it was still an issue can perhaps best be illustrated
by the well-known but difficult passage in Zech. 13.2-6. There
is no agreement among scholars as to the date or social back-
ground of this passage, but two points about it may be noted.
First, it appears to reflect a strong antipathy to contemporary
claimants to the prophetic role;13 secondly, it shows this
antipathy by quoting a passage from an established prophetic
collection, for the Id' nabi' 'anokt ('I am no prophet') of Zech.
13.5 is surely to be understood as an allusion back to the
identical words of Amos 7.14. The prophetic texts, that is to
say, are coming to be regarded as authoritative; they provided
a body of material to which allusion and reference could be
made in support of particular claims for the right under-
standing of God's demands.14 When a religious community
has a stake in the reliability and authority of particular
writings, then it is of crucial importance to uphold the
reliability and integrity of those writings—the more so when
the writings are understood as prophetic in this predictive
sense, having reference to events that were to take place at a
time long after the lifetime of the prophets themselves.
5.2. A well-known example of this necessity to maintain the
'truth' of a text regarded as prophetic can be found in Dan.
9.2, with its reference to 'the number of years which,
according to the word of the LORD to Jeremiah the prophet,
must pass before the end of the desolations of Jerusalem,
namely, seventy years'. The phrase 'according to the word of
the LORD' ensures that the prophecy must be understood as a
prophetic words. The very title of Carroll's hook, When Prophecy Failed
(London: SCM Press, 1979), illustrates the understanding of prophecy as
an exercise capable of 'succeeding*, by looking forward to being validated
through accurate fulfilment.
13. Barton's discussions of individual passages are for the most part
very persuasive, but here he may be challenged when he suggests that
Zech. 13.2-6 refers only to 'false claimants to prophetic inspiration'
(Oracles of God, p. 106); the tenor of the biblical passage implies a more
basic antipathy to prophetism than that would suggest.
14. The best study of this development is that of M. Fishbane,
Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1985).
true one. Elsewhere, notably in Haggai and Zechariah 1-8, it
seems as if the 'fulfilment' was understood in terms of the
peaceful conditions brought about under Persian rule, though
there is no explicit reference to Jeremiah. That want is sup-
plied at the end of 2 Chronicles and the beginning of Ezra,
where the reference to seventy years of desolation leads natu-
rally to the rededication of the temple just seventy years after
its destruction (2 Chron. 36.22; Ezra 5-6).15 But for the final
compiler of Daniel in the time of Antiochus Epiphanes it was
only too apparent that the 'desolations of Jerusalem' were far
from being over, and there follows in w. 24-27 the explana-
tion of the prophecy in terms of 'weeks of years'. (Was one
reason for the insertion of Daniel's prayer at this point, w. 4-
19, an awareness of the temerity of what was being under-
taken, the reshaping of an inspired prophecy from of old?)
5.2.1. If the book of Daniel appears to treat the words of
Jeremiah in a somewhat cavalier fashion, that tendency is
carried still further in later writings that had also had an
important investment in claiming the 'truth' of prophetic
words. The obvious examples are, of course, the Dead Sea
Scrolls and the New Testament. As is well known, one of the
first of the scrolls to be discovered was a commentary on
Habakkuk 1-2, a commentary that well illustrates the pesher
type of exegesis engaged in by the Qumran community. Thus,
when we read that Hab. 1.6, 'Lo, I am rousing the Chaldaeans,
that bitter and hasty nation', is to be interpreted of the
'Kittim [Romans] who are quick and valiant in war, causing
many to perish',16 it is clear that the idea of 'true prophecy*
has now become so flexible as to defy anything that modern
westerners would regard as rational criteria of judgment.
15. Strong arguments against regarding Ezra as the continuation of
2 Chronicles have been put forwardin recent years by H.G.M. Williamson
and others; this is not the place to examine these in detail, but the links
between the two books still seem to be sufficiently close to invite their
juxtaposition. Nor is it possible here to enter the discussion whether the
temple was indeed rededicated in c. 516 BCE, or whether that dating has
been shaped by an awareness of Jeremiah's prophecy.
16. M.A. Knibb, The Qumran Community (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1987), pp. 223-25. Knibb provides a discussion of this
and other biblical commentary texts from Qumran (pp. 207-55).
5.2.2. The same point may readily be seen in the New

Testament, not least in the Gospel of Matthew with its fre-
quent use of expressions referring to the fulfilment of words
from God spoken through the prophets. Thus, to take just two
examples: the return of Joseph, Mary and Jesus from Egypt is
presented as fulfilling the words of Hos. 11.1, whereas that
passage in Hosea would normally be taken as having a past
reference, to the Exodus. At the end of the same chapter of
Matthew, Jesus' dwelling in Nazareth is described as taking
place 'that what was spoken by the prophets might be
fulfilled, "He shall be called a Nazarene"'. It would be an
exaggeration to suggest that Matthew actually concocted
prophecy to provide a basis for his presentation, but the
identity of this particular 'prophecy* continues to baffle com-
mentators.17 The use of prophetic material to illustrate and
shape a particular story has now become so flexible that
questions of true and false prophecy barely arise; it has
become impossible to envisage criteria that could be laid down
to establish whether or not a particular prophecy has or has
not been fulfilled.
6. Conclusions of this kind may seem unduly negative, but
they may be necessary, for too often the issue of false pro-
phecy has been approached as if it is an issue that could be
resolved to everyone's satisfaction if only the right scholarly
techniques were applied. To a far greater extent than such an
approach allows, there are ideological factors to be taken into
account—particularly the recognition of the need within the
religious community to legitimate certain voices and to exclude
others—factors that make objective assessment extremely
elusive. Perhaps also at times one feels the need for more
common sense in the discussion of such issues than has
sometimes been evident; and that is one reason why it is a
particular pleasure to offer this study to Norman Whybray,
with whom the quality of common sense has been prominent
17. For a survey of views of this problem, see R.E. Brown, The Birth
of the Messiah (Garden City, NY: Image, 1977), pp. 207-13, 223-25. At
least 15 different OT texts have been proposed as the point of reference
in this citation.
(among many others) in his handling of the material. It is a
great pleasure to acknowledge his capacity for asking awkward
questions and, surely, proposing some lasting solutions in
much study related to the prophetic literature in particular
and the Hebrew Bible in general.
FIRST AND LAST IN ISAIAH
Hugh G.M. Williamson
In the years since the publication of Norman Whybray's

commentary and other works on Deutero-Isaiah,1 a major
focus of study has been on the extent to which the exilic
prophet may have been influenced by the earlier part of the
book of Isaiah.2 Of course, as Whybray himself was aware,
some isolated examples had long been known,3 but the accu-
mulation of further suggestions has now reached the point
1. R.N. Whybray, Isaiah 40-66 (NCB; London: Marshall, Morgan &

Scott, 1975); cf. The Heavenly Counsellor in Isaiah xl 13-14: A Study of
the Sources of the Theology of Deutero-Isaiah (SOTSMS, 1; Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1971); Thanksgiving for a Liberated Prophet:
An Interpretation of Isaiah Chapter 53 (JSOTSup, 4; Sheffield: JSOT
Press, 1978); The Second Isaiah (OTG; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1983).
2. There are useful surveys of research in J. Vermeylen, 'L'unit6 du
livre d'Isai'e', and G.I. Davies, The Destiny of the Nations in the Book of
Isaiah', both in J. Vermeylen (ed.), The Book of Isaiah (BETL, 81; Leuven:
Peeters, 1989), pp. 11-53 and 93-120 respectively, and in M.A. Sweeney,
Isaiah 1-4 and the Post-Exilic Understanding of the Isaianic Tradition
(BZAW, 171; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1988), pp. 1-25. There should now be added
in particular R. Albertz, 'Das Deuterojesaja-Buch als Fortschreibung der
Jesaja-Prophetie', in E. Blum, C. Macholz and E.W. Stegemann (eds.), Die
hebraische Bibel und ihre zweifache Nachgeschichte: Festschrift fur
Rolf Rendtorff zum 65. Geburtstag (Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener
Verlag, 1990), pp. 241-56.
3. For instance, the divine title The Holy One of Israel' is said to be
one that 'he took over from the vocabulary of his predecessor, the eighth-
century Isaiah' (Isaiah 40-66, p. 65), and the use of tdrd at 42.4 is com-
pared with 8.16 (p. 73), a verse also referred to in the commentary on 50.4
(p. 151). These and other examples are not, however, regarded as in any
sense qualitatively different from other influences on the thought and
phraseology of Deutero-Isaiah.
where a number of scholars have concluded that Deutero-
Isaiah may never have existed as a separate book but that it
was conceived from the very first as an integral continuation
of the earlier work. The present article proposes that another
example should be added to the list. It differs from many that
have been advanced, however, in that it goes beyond the
realm of an isolated theme or phraseological echo; indeed, it
may be said to furnish one of the most fundamental theologi-
cal concepts that serves to bind together much of Deutero-
Isaiah's literary legacy.4 If it is accepted, therefore, it will
provide powerful evidence for the particular influence of the
literary deposit of First Isaiah5 on Deutero-Isaiah.
The main passage for consideration in the first part of the
book is 8.23b-9.6 (ET 9.1-7. I shall follow the Hebrew system
of chapter and verse division throughout). The authenticity of
this passage is by no means certain, though most commenta-
tors now reckon with at least a pre-exilic date for its composi-
tion, from the Josianic redaction of the work if not from Isaiah
himself. (I shall have a little more to say about this later on.)
Nor is the translation of the opening of the passage assured.
The RSV (9.1b) represents one widely held approach:
In the former time he brought into contempt the land of Zebulun
and the land of Naphtali, but in the latter time he will make
glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee
of the nations.
4. The question of the unity of Deutero-Isaiah, which is currently

much debated, may be left to one side for our present purposes, since
most, at least, of the passages that will be discussed are widely agreed to
constitute part of the core of Deutero-Isaiah's work; cf. recently
H.-J. Hermisson, 'Einheit und Komplexitat Deuterojesajas: Probleme der
Redaktionsgeschichte von Jes 40-55', in Vermeylen (ed.), The Book of
Isaiah, pp. 287-312, but contrast R.G. Kratz, Kyros im Deuterojesaja-
Buch. Redaktionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zu Entstehung und
Theologie von Jes 40-55 (Forschungen zum Alten Testament, 1;
Tubingen: J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1991).
5. I use this term consciously to refer to the form which the book of
Isaiah had assumed by the time of Deutero-Isaiah. By general consent,
this will have included a good deal more than the actual words of Isaiah
himself.
WILLIAMSON First and Last in Isaiah 97
As has been demonstrated by Emerton,6 this translation slides
over several difficulties, including the facts that the two verbs
in the verse, hql and hkbyd, are in the perfect tense, whereas
the RSV translates the first as perfect and the second as
future, that't, time', is normally a feminine noun,7 whereas it
is construed by the RSV as being complemented by two
masculine adjectives, hr'Swn and h'hrwn, the former* and 'the
latter', and that an ellipse of k't has awkwardly to be pre-
supposed before the second adjective, 'and (in) the latter
(time)'. After a thorough discussion of these and related prob-
lems, together with a consideration of the historical back-
ground presupposed in the verse, Emerton offers the following
translation 'with a certain freedom intended to bring out the
suggested meaning*:
Now has everyone, from first to last, treated with contempt and
harshness the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, the way
of the sea, the region beyond Jordan, Galilee of the nations.
Whatever we decide about the correct translation of the
verse,8 it is clearly divided into two halves by the contrasting
pair hr'Swn and h'hrwn, the first and the last', or the former
6. J.A. Emerton, 'Some Linguistic and Historical Problems in Isaiah

viii.23', JSS 14 (1969), pp. 151-75.
7. However, cf. P. Wegner, 'Another Look at Isaiah viii 23B', VT 41
(1991), pp. 481-84.
8. Emerton has been followed by, for instance, R.E. Clements, Isaiah
1-39 (NCB; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans; London: Marshall, Morgan &
Scott, 1980), p. 104, and to a considerable extent by J.H. Hayes and
S.A. Irvine, Isaiah, the Eighth-Century Prophet: His Times and his
Preaching (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1987), pp. 176-79. Alternative
interpretations, generally closer to the traditional rendering, which at
least take account of his work, include H. Wildberger, Jesaja. I. Teilband.
Jesaja 1-12 (BKAT, 10/1; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 2nd
edn, 1980), pp. 362-64; H. Earth, Die Jesaja-Worte in der Josiazeit: Israel
und Assur als Thema einer produktiven Neuinterpretation der Jesajaiiber-
lieferung (WMANT, 48; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1977),
pp. 143-45; J. H0genhaven, 'On the Structure and Meaning of Isaiah viii
23b', VT 37 (1987), pp. 218-21; H. Eschel, 'Isaiah viii 23: An Historical-
Geographical Analogy', VT 40 (1990), pp. 104-109; N. Na'aman, 'Literary
and Topographical Notes on the Battle of Kishon (Judges iv-v)', VT 40
(1990), pp. 423-36 (434-36).
and the latter', and whether correctly or not this has fre-
quently been taken to refer to contrasting periods of time, one
characterized by 'contempt' and the other by 'glory*. No doubt,
this reading has been influenced by the verse's position
between the gloomy conclusion of ch. 8 and the bright future
envisaged at the start of ch. 9, a point that seems to have
been appreciated as early as the inclusion of the redactional
join in 8.23a: 'But there will be no gloom for her that was in
anguish', if that is the right interpretation of an admittedly
obscure text. In addition, it receives a measure of support from
the use elsewhere in Isaiah 1-39 of the two key words. At 1.26
kbr'Snh refers to days in the distant past, before Zion had
gone so disastrously astray (parallel with kbthlh), while at
30.8, in particular, ywm 'hrwn refers to a future day that
Isaiah anticipates will dawn after the judgment is past. Once
the matter is expressed in these terms, several points of com-
parison with the work of Deutero-Isaiah suggest themselves.
First, God himself is described as 'the first and the last' at
44.6 and 48.12 ('I am the first and I am the last'), using the
very two words that divide 8.23b into two halves. 41.4 is
similar: 'I, the LORD, am the first; and with the last (w't-
'hrnym) I am He'. This title for God appears to be without
parallel; it is distinctive to Deutero-Isaiah. The possibility
should therefore be considered that he took the relevant
words in 8.23b as titles for God—that he read the verse as
signifying that it was 'the First' (with a capital T') who
brought the land into contempt and 'the Last' (with a capital
'L') who would eventually glorify it again.9 It will then have
been this understanding which led him to coin his distinctive
title. It is noteworthy that, so far as I can see, no commentator
has proposed any other possible influence on Deutero-Isaiah
9. If so, he must have taken k't as an independent adverb, meaning

'now*, which Emerton has shown is certainly possible, and in addition he
may have regarded the use of hr'swn and h'hrwn as an example of what
we should now call the breakup of a stereotyped phrase in poetry; cf.
E.Z. Melamed, 'Break-up of Stereotype Phrases as an Artistic Device in
Biblical Poetry1, ScrH 8 (1961), pp. 115-53. Y. Komlosh (Bar-Han 4-5
[1967], pp. 42-49) has proposed that Isaiah himself intended the two
adjectives to refer to God, but this seems improbable.
as regards this title,10 and that in this respect it differs
markedly from all the other divine titles that the prophet uses.
Since the title appears in passages where the form of the
argument suggests that he is appealing to an accepted
characteristic of God in order to build his new revelation upon
it, it would be surprising if the prophet had here introduced a
wholly novel title that might have invited a challenge from
his readers or hearers.
Secondly, therefore, and in development of this last point,
we should note that at 44.6 the title occurs in a short para-
graph (w. 6-8) which introduces a very characteristic theme
of Deutero-Isaiah and one which, moreover, seems certainly
to have been developed in association with it. This is the
theme of the contrast between the former (or first) things and
the new things that are yet to come which is referred to in the
context of the ability to prophesy and which makes up an
important element in the prophet's anti-idol polemic:
Who has announced from of old things to come,
Let them tell him what is yet to be (44.7b).n
Only the God who is himself 'the first and the last' is able to
do such a thing. The occurrence of the title at 48.12 is in a
context that is making a similar point, while at 41.4 the
closely related issue is broached of God's control of history
both in the remote past ('calling the generations from the
beginning') and in the present (Who has performed and done
this?') with reference to the rise of Cyrus.12
10. P. Volz (Jesaia II [KAT; Leipzig: A. Deichert, 1932], p. 16) and

P.-E. Bonnard (Le second /safe: Son disciple et leurs editeurs [EBib; Paris:
Gabalda, 1972], p. 109 n. 4) refer to the first and the last' as a description
of (Ahura) Mazda in the Gathas (31.8), but it is hardly possible to speak of
influence at this stage, even by way of polemic.
11. The first line of the MT 'hardly makes sense' (Whybray, Isaiah 40-
66, p. 97), as attempts to defend it serve only to underline (cf., for
instance, P.A.H. de Boer, OTS 11 [1956], p. 15). I follow the majority of
commentators in making the very slight emendation to ml hismia'
me'dlam 'dtiyydt; cf. BHS. For Imw in the second line, cf. GKC §103/"n. 3.
12. From the Targum to C.C. Torrey, 'Isaiah 41', HTR 44 (1951),
pp. 121-36, there have been those who have referred Isa. 41.2-4 to
Abraham alone. This is unconvincing, however; at best, Abraham is
In these expressions of Deutero-Isaiah's familiar theme, the
vocabulary with which we are here primarily concerned is
used for God himself, and consequently alternative forms of
wording are used for the sharp division of history into distinc-
tive periods. Elsewhere, however, where God is not referred to
in these terms, the same ideas are expressed by using the
language of 8.23b in a manner that suggests that the various
forms of wording are virtually interchangeable. We may
compare the following examples:
Tell us the former things (hrtsnwt), what they are,
that we may consider them,
that we may know their outcome Chrytn);
or declare to us the things to come (hb'wt).13
Tell us what is to come (h'tywt) hereafter,
that we may know that you are gods (41.22b-c, 23a).
Behold, the former things (hr'snwt) have come to pass,
and new things (whdSwt) I now declare;
before they spring forth
I tell you of them (42.9).
Who among them can declare this,
and show us the former things (wr'snwt)'? (43.9b).
Who told this long ago (rnqdrn)!
Who declared it of old (m'z)l (45.2 Ib).
Similar ideas and vocabulary are found throughout the
extended passage 48.3-16, starting with The former things I
declared of old (hr'snwt m'z hgdty)'; cf. especially w. 5, 6, 7, 8,
12, 14 and 16, and at 41.26.14
Thirdly, this polemical theme is closely associated with the
alluded to as a 'type' of Cyrus, as suggested by G.H. Jones, 'Abraham and

Cyrus: Type and Anti-Type?', VT 22 (1972), pp. 304-19, with further
literature.
13. Most commentators conjecturally invert the order of these two
lines on the grounds that it results in better parallelism with the order of
both the preceding and the following lines and that it is metrically more
satisfying. Whether or not this is correct, it is important to recognize, as
the order in the MT makes clear, that the suffix on Tirytn refers to hr'snwt,
not to hb'wt.
14. At 45.11, however, h'tywt is almost certainly the result of textual
corruption; cf. Whybray, Isaiah 40-*66, p. 108, and BHS.
related message of encouragement to the exiles to forget the
former things because now God is doing something quite
1
new:r.15
Remember not the former things (r'snwi),
nor consider the things of old (wqdmnywt).
Behold, I am doing a new thing (hd$h);
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? (43.18-19a).
Equally, it is turned to good use in refuting those who query
God's propriety in raising up Cyrus as his agent of deliverance,
and the continuation of the passage to be cited makes clear
that this is the reverse side of the message of encouragement
that the prophet is striving to get across to his recalcitrant
audience:
Remember this and consider,
recall it to mind, you transgressors,
remember the former things of old (r*snwt m'wlm);
for I am God, and there is no other;
I am God, and there is none like me,
declaring the end from the beginning (mgyd mr'Syt 'hryt)
and from ancient times things not yet done (46.8-lOa;
cf. 12-13).
15. This theme has, of course, been frequently analysed; earlier work is
helpfully summarized by A. Schoors, 'Les choses anterieures et les choses
nouvelles dans les oracles deut^ro-isai'ens', ETL 40 (1964), pp. 19-47.
Though it is not the primary concern of the present essay, the recent
trend to link the 'former things' with the recorded oracles of First Isaiah is
fully compatible with the approach adopted here; see, for instance,
D. Jones, The Traditio of the Oracles of Isaiah of Jerusalem', ZAW 67
(1955), pp. 226-46; J. Becker, Isaias—Der Prophet und sein Buck (SBS,
30; Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1968), pp. 37-38; B.S. Childs,
Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture (London: SCM Press,
1979), pp. 328-30; D.G. Meade, Pseudonymity and Canon: An Investigation
into the Relationship of Authorship and Authority in Jewish and Earliest
Christian Tradition (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987), pp. 35-37; Albertz,
'Das Deuterojesaja-Buch' (above, n. 2), pp. 251-53; C.R. Seitz, Zion's
Final Destiny: The Development of the Book of Isaiah: A Reassessment of
Isaiah 36-39 (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1991), pp. 199-202. An
additional argument in favour of this approach, which does not appear to
have been previously noted, is that when Isa. 65.16b-17 refers to this
aspect of Deutero-Isaiah's thought, it clearly relates 'the former things' to
the time of Israel's judgment.
Now, it is important to notice that all three usages are closely
related to one another and that sometimes they appear to
overlap within a single passage (e.g. at 42.8-9; 44.6-8; 46.9-11;
and in ch. 48). Moreover, Deutero-Isaiah uses a wide range of
vocabulary to express what is basically the same thought (for
the first half of the pair r'snwt; qdmnywt, qualified sometimes
by mr'§', mlpnym; m'wlm\ mr'Syt; m'z\ mqdm; and for the
second half of the pair hb'wt; h'tywt; hdSwt; '§r tb'nh). We
should nevertheless observe that in addition to reflecting three
times the specific vocabulary of 8.23b in descriptions of
God, he also comes very close to it on two other occasions in
these wider contexts when God is not himself referred to in
these terms—at 41.22 (hr'snwt...'hrytn) and 46.10 (mr'syt
'hrytl
In the light of all this material, it may now be suggested
that Deutero-Isaiah could have reflected on and been influ-
enced by 8.23b in at least three ways. First, whether or not
Emerton is right about the verse's original meaning, it is
probable that Deutero-Isaiah read it in his new historical con-
text as referring to two different periods of time, each
characterized by one of the two contrasting verbs.16 This, of
course, is closer to the approach represented by the RSV,
though it differs with regard to the understanding of 'the
First' and 'the Last'. Specifically, he may have been encour-
aged in this direction (as many others since have been) by the
general tenor of the verses immediately preceding and
following with their apparent switch from a period of gloom to
one of hope. Thus, for instance, Isa. 9.1—
The people who walked in darkness (bhtsk)
have seen a great light Cwr);
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
on them has light shined—
will have been taken by him as referring forward to his own
day, when those in the 'darkness' of exile would now be led
back into the bright 'light' of God's salvation:
16. It is worth observing here that 'make glorious' is securely attested

as a possible meaning for hkbyd by Jer. 30.19.
And I will lead the blind in the way [that they have not known],17
in paths that they have not known I will guide them.
I will turn the darkness (mhsk) before them into light (l'wr\
the rough places into level ground (42.16).
Of course, the use of such common words as 'light* and
'darkness' could not in themselves serve as evidence for
Deutero-Isaiah's use of earlier Isaianic material, but provided
it is agreed that it has been established that 8.23-9.6 was of
particular significance for him in the framing of his theology
of the turning of the tide from judgment to salvation, then the
allusion gains weight as a supporting argument. There can
certainly be no doubt that he made frequent use of 'light' as
an image of salvation (usually, though not always, in
association with its converse, 'darkness'); cf. (in addition to
42.16) 42.6-7 (and cf. 49.9); 45.7; 49.6; 50.10; and 51.4.
Similarly, the emphasis in 9.2 on 'joy' (the root smh is there
used three times and gyl twice)18 is also found several times in
Deutero-Isaiah as an appropriate response to what is
happening (cf. 41.16; 49.13; 51.3, 11; 55.12 and the com-
parable uses with run at 42.11; 44.23; 48.20; 52.8, 9; 54.1).
Other links between this passage and Deutero-Isaiah include
the expression hlq §11, 'to divide spoil', which is found only at
9.2 and 53.12 in the prophetic literature; the emphasis at the
end that 'the zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this (t'sh z't)'
may be compared with the similar expression at 41.20 (and cf.
42.16), though it occurs also at Amos 9.12, while the idea of
fire consuming the oppressor (9.4) may be reflected at 47.14
and 50.11. Thus, seeing the contrast between judgment and
salvation in 8.23-9.6 as a whole, he was led to see it also in
what he took to be the contrasting halves of 8.23b itself.
Second, reflection on this contrast may have influenced him
to adopt his sharp and characteristic juxtaposing of 'the
17. The repetition of the phrase 'that they have not known' in the first
and second halves of the line is suspicious and seems to overload the first
half metrically. It should probably be deleted, and the previous word
vocalized badderek in consequence; cf. Whybray, Isaiah 40-66, p. 79.
18. For the standard emendation ofhgwy I' to hgylh, cf. G.B. Gray, A
Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Isaiah I-XXVII (ICC;
Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1912), p. 175.
former things' and 'the new things' in different contexts pre-
cisely on the basis ofhr'gwn and h'hrwn in 8.23. As we have
seen, among the variety of expressions which he used to give
expression to this idea, there is evidence that he drew
specifically on the language of 8.23 itself.
Finally, as already noted, 8.23 provides the only possible
source for one of his characteristic titles for God in a context
where we expect him to be appealing to common ground
between himself and his audience rather than coining some
wholly novel designation.
In the light of this discussion, we may conclude that a con-
nection between Isa. 8.23b and the various passages in
Deutero-Isaiah seems to be probable. Certainly, no other text
can be adduced that could serve as an independent source of
influence in this regard. Attention has sometimes been drawn
to Jer. 50.17, where 'First (hr'swn) the king of Assyria
devoured him, and now at last (wzh h'hrwn) Nebuchadrezzar
king of Babylon has gnawed his bones'. Several considera-
tions rule out this possibility, however. First, the date of Jer.
50.17 is uncertain, many commentators arguing that it is later
than Deutero-Isaiah. This problem is only heightened by the
observation that w. 17b-18 appear to be a prose addition to
their poetic context. Second, it is equally uncertain whether
the adjectives are to be construed as adverbial accusatives of
time, as is usually done, or as personal adjectives; this latter
possibility is entertained by S.R. Driver: The first one (who)
devoured him was the king of A.; and this, the last one (who)
gnawed his bones, was, etc.'19 Thirdly and decisively, however,
this verse in Jeremiah lacks the very features of Deutero-
Isaiah's interpretation of Isa. 8.23b that have been singled out
above as being most significant and characteristic. Whereas
Jer. 50.17 may attest the later influence of Isa. 8.23
understood very much along the lines proposed by Emerton
(i.e. wholly negative) and reinterpreted in the light of the
Babylonian conquest, Deutero-Isaiah appears to have
developed a quite different interpretation of 8.23 in the light
of his new historical situation. His contrasting of a period of
19. Cf. S.R. Driver, The Book of the Prophet Jeremiah (London: Hodder
& Stoughton, 1906), p. 370.
oppression with a following period of deliverance is not found
in Jer. 50.17, and when the passage in Jeremiah goes on in
w. 18-19 to speak of a future hope, it does so in a quite
different way. Finally, as the editors of the present volume
have kindly pointed out to me, 'first' and 'last' in the Jeremiah
passage refer to different things (whether people or times),
whereas in Deutero-Isaiah they refer to the same 'person'
(God). It may thus be concluded that Jer. 50.17 cannot have
served as the inspiration for those features of Deutero-Isaiah's
thought and style which have been examined above.
If this conclusion is sound, it sheds new light on the
question of the date of 8.23b-9.6, which was left on one side
at the start of this discussion.20 Naturally, this procedure could
be charged with arguing in a circle—from the assumption of a
pre-Deutero-Isaianic date to its establishment. Despite this,
however, it seems reasonable to frame the issue in another
way: if there is a literary connection between two bodies of
literature, which can be more easily explained as dependent?
The connection may be observed without recourse to any
assumption about priority, and the question of dependency
may then be resolved on its own merits.
In my judgment, even discounting the specific manner in
which the evidence has been set out above, the material can
be more easily explained in terms of Deutero-Isaiah being the
one who is dependent than the reverse. We have seen that he
uses the theme and its associated vocabulary in several
slightly different ways, and that there is some uncertainty as
to whether any of these exactly represents the meaning of
8.23. It is thus easier to think that he has been led to re-read
the material in the light of his changed circumstances than
that a later editor of First Isaiah has picked up several dis-
tinct, though related, themes in his work, brought them
20. Opinions on this continue to differ radically, and it is not my

intention to deal with all aspects of the debate here. For surveys, see, for
instance, J. Vollmer, 'Zur Sprache von Jesaja 9^', ZAW 80 (1968),
pp. 343-50; Wildberger, Jesaja 1-12, pp. 362-89; Earth, Die Jesaja-Worte,
pp. 141-77; J. Vermeylen, Du prophete /sate a I'apocalyptique: Isafe, I-
XXXV, miroir d'un demi-millenaire d'experience religieuse en Israel (EBib;
Paris: Gabalda, 1977), pp. 232-45.
together and incorporated them in a single passage in Isaiah
1-39 in a manner that does not accurately reflect any one of
them in particular or all three of them together. There are
many other well-known examples of Deutero-Isaiah working
creatively with the material he has inherited, and his pre-
sumed manner of procedure here fits in well with this.
Of course, if an irrefutable case had been made out for the
post-exilic origin of 8.23b-9.6, then we should be obliged to
seek other ways of understanding the method of composition
here. In the light of recent discussions, however, it may be
questioned whether this is so—and in saying that, it is not
necessary to decide whether Isaiah himself wrote the passage,
or whether, as Barth and Vermeylen have maintained, it is to
be attributed to a Josianic redactor; for our present purposes,
either position would be sufficient to account for the evidence.
The strongest counter-argument that could be produced
would be the presence of linguistic features that could only be
explained as deriving from the period of late Biblical Hebrew,
but there are none such. The manner in which linguistic
evidence has been used in this debate is generally unsatisfac-
tory from the point of view of method—in particular, because
some words or phrases are elsewhere used only in passages
generally thought to be late, this cannot settle the issue of
whether those words or phrases must themselves be regarded
as later. As Hurvitz has shown,21 this line of argument should
only be admitted when it is demonstrated that the postulated
later element has consistently replaced some earlier alterna-
tive; otherwise, the whole thing turns into a weak argument
from silence whose dubious nature is made the greater by the
heavily restricted quantity of comparative data available to
us.22 This necessary second step in the argument has not,
however, been undertaken by proponents of a late date.
21. Cf. A. Hurvitz, The Transition Period in Biblical Hebrew: A Study

in Post-Exilic Hebrew and its Implications for the Dating of Psalms
[Hebrew] (Jerusalem: Bialik Institute, 1972), pp. 20-24.
22. Cf. C. Hardmeier, 'Jesajaforschung im Umbruch', VF 31 (1986),
pp. 3-31, who is followed in particular by A. Laato, Who is Immanuel? The
Rise and the Foundering of Isaiah's Messianic Expectations (Abo: Abo
Academy Press, 1988), pp. 21-23 and 182.
Indeed, it is striking that even Vermeylen,23 who is generally

by no means averse to this type of argument, does not find the
evidence at all compelling in this particular case. Conversely,
of course, the fact that much of the vocabulary of the passage
has parallels elsewhere in the writing of Isaiah of Jerusalem
cannot be used to support Isaianic authorship (cf. Wildberger).
The most it can do is to demonstrate Isaianic authorship as a
possibility. In short, the evidence from language cannot settle
the issue either way.
Other arguments for a late date are equally indecisive, and
in this connection it is particularly worthy of note that Werner,
one of the chief advocates of a post-exilic date in recent years,
relies heavily on the argument from vocabulary and then
concedes that 'einzeln genommen mogen die Argumente, die
dem Text die Herkunft von Jesaja absprechen und ihn in die
nachexilische Zeit datieren, nicht durchschlagen'.24 Thereafter,
he concentrates more on seeking to establish that Wildberger
has not convincingly proved Isaianic authorship than on
presenting positive arguments for his own alternative view.
Naturally, his assumption that 9.1 is dependent upon Deutero-
Isaiah begs the question raised by our discussion above.
This being so, the new evidence that has been set out here
may be allowed its prima facie force. The dependence of
Deutero-Isaiah on Isa. 8.23b is the best explanation of the
data. If that be granted, then we may conclude that this pass-
age is of peculiar importance in view of both its widespread
use by Deutero-Isaiah and its centrality to one of his most
characteristic themes. As was pointed out at the start of this
article, many of the similarities that have been observed in
recent years between the first and second parts of Isaiah are
somewhat isolated. Since it is clear that Deutero-Isaiah drew
on a number of earlier traditions and literary works, many
scholars have been reluctant to allow that the literary deposit
of First Isaiah enjoyed a privileged position in this regard. The
evidence advanced above (to which I hope to add more in a
23. Isaie, p. 240.

24. W. Werner, Eschatologische Texte in Jesaja 1-39: Messias, heiliger
Rest, Volker (Forschung zur Bibel, 46; Wiirzburg: Echter Verlag, 1982),
p. 46.
forthcoming monograph) significantly strengthens the case in
favour of those who have argued that Deutero-Isaiah worked
in conscious literary dependence on his predecessor and that
he never intended his work to be read without reference to the
wider context which the early form of Isaiah 1-39 provides for
it
It gives me particular pleasure to contribute to this volume
in honour of Norman Whybray, friend and respected senior
scholar.
MOTHER ZION, FATHER SERVANT:
A READING OF ISAIAH 49-55
Knud Jeppesen
Isaiah 53 is a text that scholars will probably continue to work

upon to the end of the world. One of the most serious problems
is that there are features in the chapter that give the most
satisfactory understanding when read as if Yahweh's Servant
is a metaphor for the people, while there are other features
that seem to show definitely that the Servant is an individual.
Professor R.N. Whybray has carried through the individual
interpretation of Isaiah 53 in his Thanksgiving for a Liberated
Prophet,1 in which he has shown that the historical meaning
is not that the Servant died and returned from the dead.
One thing that supports the notion that the Servant did not
die is the sentence in v. 10, 'He shall see offspring'.2 This is the
only example in the Old Testament of in? as the object of the
verb, mn, but the meaning seems to be clear; B. Duhm, for
example, in his famous commentary, compared this line with
the end of the Book of Job, where Job saw (run) 'children and
grandchildren in four generations',3 and in the context of
1. JSOTSup, 4, Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1978; see also his Isaiah 40-
66 (NCB; London: Oliphants, 1975), ad loc. Chapter 53 *by itself, though
not without problems, makes good sense as a song of thanksgiving for the
deliverance of God's servant, Deutero-Isaiah, from mortal danger* (Isaiah
40-66, p. 169; cf. Thanksgiving, p. 163 n. 1); so 52.13-15 is not treated as
an integrated part of the so-called fourth 'Servant-song*.
2. In Whybraj^s interpretation 'long life' in 53.10 is connected to the
offspring (see e.g. Isaiah 40-66, p. 179).
3. Job 42.16; B. Duhm, Das Buck Jesaja (HAT, 3/1; Gottingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1892), p. 374; see also Gen. 50.23; Ps. 128.6.
In Gen. 48.11 »ir is the object of n*n hiph. On the phrase, see
Thanksgiving, pp. 79-80.
Isaiah 40-66 mr almost always means human offspring,4 and
often the people. On the other hand, in commentaries and
monographs so many different aspects are stressed that one
wonders whether it is only on the surface that the meaning is
clear.5
However, the Servant is not the only figure in Deutero-
Isaiah who acquires children in a situation where it was not
expected.6 A few verses later (54.1), we read about 'the deso-
late one', who shall have more children than a married woman,
and in the following verse her tent is said to be too small for
her offspring; this barren woman's children OTIT) shall inherit
the gentiles and inhabit the desolate towns (v. 3). It is not
stated explicitly who the woman is. But in spite of the fact
that Zion/Jerusalem is not mentioned by name in the pericope,
or for that matter in the rest of Deutero-Isaiah, it is beyond
doubt that we have here an example of Zion-imagery.
Isaiah 53-54 is part of a section in the book that is
connected to both the other Deutero-Isaianic section (chs. 40-
48), and to the so-called Trito-Isaiah section (chs. 56-66).7
4. Isa. 41.8; 43.5; 44.3; 45.19, 25; 48.19; 54.3; 57.3, 4; 59.21; 61.9;
65.9, 23; 66.22, with 55.10 as an exception.
5. I. Engnell, The 'Ebed Yahweh Songs and the Suffering Messiah in
'Deutero-Isaiah' (Manchester: The John Rylands Library, 1948), pp. 36-37
(= BJRL 31 [1948], pp. 54-93): the sentence is part of the mythical
background, where death and offspring so often are connected to
each other. J. Lindblom, The Servant Songs in Deutero-Isaiah (Lund:
C.W.K. Gleerup, 1951), p. 45: the Servant is dead, but shall survive
through his descendants, who are spiritual, not physical. J. de Leeuw, De
Ebed Jahweh-Profetien (Assen: van Gorcum, 1956), pp. 249-50: the words
are first and foremost an expression of the Servant's righteousness
contrary to that of the unrighteous, whose children shall be cut off.
O. Kaiser, Der kdnigliche Knecht (FRLANT, 70; Gottingen: Vandenhoeck
& Ruprecht, 1959), p. 119: they show the *innerweltlichen und inner-
geschichtlichen Horizont' of the Servant song.
6. The name 'Deutero-Isaiah' is used for Isa. 40-55 as a whole, most
of which is in my opinion made up of prophecies from the Babylonian
exile. We cannot know whether the author was a he or a she or indeed one
person, but following the tradition I call the author lie'.
7. Cf. K. Jeppesen, 'From "You, My Servant" to "The Hand of the
Lord is with My Servants". A Discussion of Is. 40-66', SJOT 1 (1990),
pp. 113-29 (114-18).
JEPPESEN Mother Zion, Father Servant 111
Chapters 49-55 may again be divided into at least two
smaller sections. 49.1-52.12 begins with a Servant text with a
universal scope, and it ends with a call to a group of people to
leave the place where they were; the pericopes in between
sometimes deal with the Servant, sometimes with Zion/
Jerusalem, and the people are always within the horizon. This
summary covers the second part (52.13-55.13) too, and it is
hardly a coincidence. On the following pages we shall there-
fore read the two parts in the light of each other, and
especially look for features that can help us understand the
difficult statements about parents and offspring.8
1.1.1
From the beginning the Servant pericope in 49.1-13 is
addressed to people who are far away, and this corresponds
with part of the contents. The Servant's original call was
related to Israel only, but from the present time on he is also
to bring salvation to the ends of the earth (v. 6); he becomes
the 'Servant of the rulers', and kings are to praise him (v. 7).
From v. 8 the addressee, a 'y°u> (masc. sing.) will do the
Servant's job in relation to the people; he shall restore the
country, set some prisoners free, and lead them safely along a
road, which Yahweh will construct for them. The prisoners are
probably the exiles, and the Servant has consequently taken
over the role of Cyrus.9
According to v. 12 the prisoners, the exiles, shall come from
all directions, and not from Babylon only; this, of course,
reflects the universalism of the text, but the way in which it is
expressed is a little disturbing for the line of thought. The text
8. To save space I do not note or discuss all the details in the
pericopes that are of importance for the overall structure of Deutero-
Isaiah. The reader is referred to R.F. Melugin, The Formation of Isaiah
40-55 (BZAW, 141; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1976). The translation of the Bible
used in this article is mainly the AV.
9. See 41.2-4, 25-29; 44.28-45.7; 46.10-13; and probably also 48.12-
14; and cf. Whybray, Isaiah 40-66, p. 138: 'the tasks of the two men,
though entirely different in the methods which they employed, were
identical in their divine origin (Yahweh's call) and in his aim' (cf. also
p. 131). The theme of the miraculous road home through the desert is
known from chs. 40—48 too; see e.g. 40.3-5.
in itself is silent when it comes to the liberated prisoners' goal,
and we are not told either about the actual relations between
the prisoners and the person who is to free them.10
1.1.2
In 49.14 Zion is brought into focus. As the Servant complains
that he had 'laboured in vain' (v. 4), Zion laments that 'the
Lord has forsaken me, and my Lord has forgotten me' (v. 14).
But playing upon the mother-child imagery Yahweh repudi-
ates her lament and tries to convince her that someone shall
'make haste',11 doing something in relation to her (w. 15-17a).
The conquerors shall depart, the ruins shall be rebuilt, and
Zion shall be as happy as a young bride; she shall soon realize
that her place will not be big enough for all the children she
will have (vv. 17b-21). Her children will be taken home, not
by the Servant, but by kings and queens, who will show Zion
the same kind of honour as they will show the Servant
(w. 22-23).12 In the last verses of ch. 49 Yahweh proves that
he is able to free prisoners, and again it is stressed that 'your
(fern, sing.) sons' shall be brought safely home, and the whole
10. 42.1-7 is normally interpreted as an individual Servant-song, and

also other texts in Isa. 40—48 have been interpreted that way; cf. H.-J.
Hennisson, 'Israel und der Gottesknecht bei Deuterojesaja', ZTK 79
(1982), pp. 1-24. Nevertheless, it is possible to understand the Servant as
identical with the people in all cases in chs. 40—48; cf. Jeppesen, SJOT1
(1990), pp. 119-22. A kind of identity between the exiles and the servant
may also be suggested in his name 'Israel' (49.3), but this text is so
disputable that one should not make any decisive conclusions. In my
article (ibid., pp. 113-29), I refer to recent literature about the Servant as
an individual or a collective, and I shall therefore not go further here.
11. 49.17: I'D 'your (fern, sing.) sons'; but, following some of the versions,
the word is often vocalized to mean 'your builders'; see Whybray, Isaiah
40-66, p. 144. Both readings make sense in the context. 'Builders' fit in,
because Jerusalem is in ruins and needs rebuilding. 'Sons' could be an
interpretation of the prisoners brought by the Servant in the previous
pericope. Judging from the parallel clause, where the other part 'go away*,
-pa probably make haste to come to Jerusalem (see C. Westermann, Das
Buck Jesaja: Kapitel 40-66 [ATD, 19; Gottingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht, 1976], p. 176); but if'your builders' is the right interpretation,
they might be making haste to carry out their building job.
12. Cf. the verb form inner (w. 7, 23).
world shall understand that the saviour is Yahweh (w. 25-26).
In 49.20 we read that the 'children of your (fern, sing.)
bereavement' shall not have space enough in the future. The
imagery is the same as in 54.1-3, but here it is obvious that
the future mother with a host of children is the personified
Zion/Jerusalem. From a Deutero-Isaianic point of view the
exile was a period when Jerusalem was bereaved of her
children and did not bear any new children; that is, Jerusalem
was without inhabitants.
The mother-children imagery, used about Jerusalem and
the Jerusalemites, is an aspect of the figurative language of
Zion/Jerusalem as a woman. This language was used in the
exilic period, probably both in Babylon and Palestine. We
know it in an almost vulgar form from texts like Ezekiel 16
and 23, and also in the book of Jeremiah we find a play on
aspects of it (e.g. 4.31), but in a form even closer to the way
the imagery occurs in Deutero-Isaiah; it appears also in
Lamentations, especially in the first verses of the first chapter.
Zion/Jerusalem as a woman is not an unknown metaphor in
the traditions in the first part of the Book of Isaiah; the town
is called a nnr, 'harlot' (1.21), and Zion has daughters (3.16-17;
4.4; etc.), and also otherwise a play with the imagery is
found.13 But it is not a marked tradition in Isaiah 1-39, and
therefore it is more likely that Deutero-Isaiah has elaborated
upon and given his touch to an old idea, which became
popular in his day, than that it was a specific Isaianic tradition
that he took up.14
Already in the opening verses of Deutero-Isaiah, Jerusalem
13. See Isa. 3.25-26; 37.22. In most cases 'Zion's daughter* is a name
only, and not a living part of the imagery; see Isa. 1.8; 10.32; etc.; this
name is used only once in chs. 49-55, viz. 52.2. The tradition is found in
Trito-Isaiah too, but not as a dominant feature; the last example, which
has some connection to the imagery in chs. 49-55, is Isa. 66.7-14; cf.
J.F.A. Sawyer, 'Daughter of Zion and Servant of the Lord in Isaiah: A
Comparison', JSOT44 (1989), pp. 89-107 (96-98).
14. I have elsewhere developed the idea that 'Deutero-Isaiah' has
worked upon and edited the Isaiah tradition in chs. 1-39*, and that Isa.
1-55* is an answer to the problems of the exiles: Grxder ikke saa saare, I
(Aarhus: Aarhus University Press, 1987), pp. 63-84; Jesajas Bog fortolket
(Copenhagen: Det danske Bibelselskab, 1988).
is a 'she', who, as a representative of Yahweh's people ODI?,
40.1), is told that her misery has come to an end. In the
following chapters Zion/Jerusalem is first and foremost a place
in Judah; hardly anything of the imagery is left there. In chs.
49-54, however, Zion/Jerusalem is much more in focus. The
imagery is used and reused, and our impression is strength-
ened that the prophet wanted to carry out his own idea of
how to speak of his capital city and its holy place far away as
a female person.
Isa. 49.21 refers to Zion's lament over her present fate; she
says in her heart, 'who has begotten these for me?' The verb
(i"?11) is masculine; Zion asks for the father of the children of
bereavement and does not seem to recognize herself as the
mother of these children. Instead she presents herself with
four Hebrew words: rfToo, 'bereaved', nno1?:, 'sterile', rib:, 'exiled',
mio, 'gone away'.
The first two words reflect her 'historical' situation as a con-
quered city, left without inhabitants. The last two words take
Zion to the Babylonian exile, to the people's place, but have
no equivalent in the LXX, and therefore commentators often
consider them secondary.15 But scholars who follow the LXX in
this matter, do not normally present the full LXX-text of the
verse. For MT's 'sterile', the LXX has w\pa, 'widow', which
makes the imagery much more homogeneous, and in a way
the question about the father even more relevant.
It is easy to argue for the originality of the LXX version, but
here we shall discuss one matter only. Zion is a kind of
counterpart of Babylon. Zion has been stricken by fatal disas-
ters, Babylon believes she will never suffer (ch. 47); further-
more, Zion is in ch. 49 promised that she will arise again from
the blow of the disaster, while the idea of ch. 47 is that
Babylon shall now suffer the disaster, and probably never rise
from it again. This is much clearer in the LXX; the words eyo)
6e otTEKvog KOC! %iipa reflect directly the LXX wording in 47.8-9.
On the other hand, original or not, the Hebrew text as we
find it in the MT seems to correspond to a Deutero-Isaianic
15. '[Ejine spate und recht ungliickliche Glosse..., derm die Sprecherin
selbst 1st nicht verbannt und vertrieben' (Duhm, Jesaja, p. 348).
way of thinking. The woman-imagery is at least double;16
Zion/Jerusalem is the people's mother, whose children are
taken away, but she is also together with the people in the
golah, or perhaps is herself the golah.17
1.1.3
In 49.18 we touched upon the wedding imagery; this is in the
beginning of ch. 50 replaced by divorce imagery, and the
addressee is a 'you' (masc. plur.), who have "been sold for your
iniquities, and for your transgressions is your mother put
away* (v. 1). Here again, it is not stated explicitly that the
mother is Zion, but in all probability she is.
Zion cannot claim to be a divorcee, and her sons cannot
claim to be children of divorced parents. They ought to have
been there, when God—the father?—called them to help; but
still he has the power and will to save them. In an almost
apocalyptic and somewhat threatening tone God demonstrates
this (v. 3); but the style is in more than one respect abrupt,
and therefore it is difficult fully to appreciate the passage.
1.2.1
In 50.4-9 someone, who in v. 10 is interpreted as the Servant,
asserts in a first-person speech his faithfulness and staying
power under physical suffering. We do not know who did the
beating; but we know that the speaker's opponent is heading
towards a disaster (esp. v. 9). Neither can we see to whom the
words were first directed, but in w. 10-11 the addressee is a
bipartite 'you' (masc. plur.). In the one party the 'you' fear
God, even if 'you' walk in darkness. In the other group are
the bad people, who will be caught in their own fire.
In relation to w. 1-3 it is worth mentioning that the T
stresses his co-operation with Yahweh. The 'sons' did not come
16. Apparently, this is not an innovation in the tradition; already in

Hos. 1-3, which in the OT is the starting point for this imagery, it is not
always clear whether it is the mother or the children who play Israel's
part.
17. Cf. the introduction to ch. 40, where God's people is a very close
parallel to Jerusalem, and where it is Jerusalem and not the people that
has ended the tax; see also 51.16 below.
when they were asked to (v. 2), but this Servant does what he
is expected to do, even if it hurts, and he underlines twice that
Yahweh the Lord is his helper (vv. 7, 9).
1.2.2
In 51.1-52.12 Zion is again in focus, and different themes are
dealt with. First the text is addressed to the good 'you' (masc.
plur.) (51.1). They are told to look into their history to con-
vince themselves that Yahweh is able to comfort Zion and
make her into a garden of Eden, full of song and music. The
author of these prophecies, who liked to talk about Zion with
this maternal imagery, never forgot, when bringing Yahweh's
word of comfort, that it was a geographical place of ruins that
in themselves were in need of good tidings (v. 3; cf. 49.19;
52.9).18
In the MT of v. 4 the righteous 'you' (masc. plur.) is replaced
by 'my people' and 'my nation'.19 This does not of course mean
that God's people as a whole 'follow after righteousness' or
'seek the Lord', but in the ideology it is the whole people who
shall be saved. They should know from history that God's
'salvation shall be for ever' (v. 6), and that therefore they
should have nothing to fear.
Three times in the following pericopes a call to wake up is
found. The first one is a call to Yahweh, or rather to his arm,
the sign of power in history (cf. 50.2). God is asked to do
things like those he did in the past; he 'cut Rahab', that is, he
created the world; he 'dried the sea', that is, he saved the
people at the exodus (51.9-10). Verse 11 is a statement about
the people's return to Zion in gladness and joy;20 but it is not
clear whether it is part of the address to Yahweh reminding
him about his promises, or an introduction to his answer in
the following verses.
God's answer in w. 12-16 is first directed to a 'you' in the
18. The intention of the prophecy is not different from 44.26, for
example, where Jerusalem is a city, about which the prophet speaks
without the metaphorical language.
19. There is no reason to follow the Peshitta in reading plural and no
suffix, as e.g. Westermann, Jesqja, pp. 188, 190.
20. Cf. Isa. 35.10.
masculine plural, which is the people or at least the righteous
part of it: 'I, even I, am the one that comforts you!' Then
follows in the same verse a question to a 'y°u' in the feminine
singular, who is probably Zion/Jerusalem as it is in the
context.21
To make the confusion even greater, the text continues
(w. 13-17) by speaking to a 'y°u> in the masculine sing
who is entrusted to God: 'I have put my words in your mouth,
and I have covered you in the shadow of my hand' (v. 16).
This sounds like an oracle to the Servant,22 and in one of the
previous verses the subject for freedom and survival is some-
one who is bowed down, probably just another image for the
exiles whom this person was sent to free by the power of God
(w. 14-15). However, what is said to the *y°u' in v- 13 is much
more like a reproach to the people.
So, in this pericope we find, on the one hand, an oscillation
between the people and a female figure, who is probably Zion,
and, on the other hand, an oscillation between the people and
a male figure, who is probably the Servant. Zion and the
Servant are not identical,23 but as part of the imagery con-
nected to the two figures each of them can be either identical
with the people or related to the people in other ways. At the
end of the pericope we find an example that shows how the
images are twisted into each other: the creator of heaven and
earth tells the male figure, who, we think, is the Servant, that
21. Again there is no reason to make the text better than it is in the
MT by means of conjectures; see BHS on v. 12, where it suggests to read
the masculine singular all through the verse. In Isa. 40-66 God's people is
the most frequent object of Yahweh's comfort: 40.1; 49.13; 52.9; cf. 61.2,
and especially 66.13, which leads to the other object of Yahweh's comfort,
Zion: 51.3, 19; according to R. Rendtorff ('Zur Komposition des Jesaja-
buches', VT 34 [1984], pp. 295-320 [298-99]), 'comfort' is one of the ideas
that hind together the book of Isaiah.
22. Cf. 'he has made my mouth like a sharp sword; in the shade of his
hand, he has hid me' (49.2).
23. I cannot agree with L.E. Wilshire (The Servant City: A New Inter-
pretation of the "Servant of the Lord" in the Servant Songs of Deutero-
Isaiah', JBL 94 [1975], pp. 356-67), who has called attention to the many
similarities in the Servant-imagery and the Zion-imagery and suggests
identity between the two bodies.
he will say to Zion, who normally is female: Tfou (masc. sing.!)
are my people' (v. 16).
In the second call to wake up (51.17-23), the meaning of the
verbal form goes in the direction of 'pulling oneself together'.
Jerusalem, who is still the subject in the feminine singular,
has been intoxicated by drinking Yahweh's cup of wrath. In
this text she has sons, but these sons were worth nothing to
help and comfort her, when the disasters came. Now, God
shall bring help, take the cup of wrath from her and give it to
nations who earlier afflicted her. Here, as in 49.21, we realize
how Jerusalem and Babylon change roles in the preaching of
Deutero-Isaiah.
The third call (52.1-3) uses the same verb form as the first;
in 51.9 it is the arm of Yahweh who is told to 'put on power',
and here it is Zion/Jerusalem who is told to do the same. She
is described as a prisoner,24 who is told to arise and leave the
place where she is. This means that here Zion or Zion's
daughter/Jerusalem is the golah with her exiles (cf. 49.21),
and not so much the town with its ruins. It is therefore quite
natural that the figure addressed (v. 3) is a 'you' in the
masculine plural.
52.4-6 is a prose text in which Yahweh speaks of'my people'
in both earlier and present salvation history to prove that
they shall return. The present state of degradation will be
changed, and the people will realize God's name, and they
will understand that he is the one who says, 'Here I am!'25
This sentence is really one of the lines God should say to
Zion/Jerusalem and the cities of Judah.26 It is therefore no
24. Reading rraej, 'captive' (fern.), instead of '220, 'sit down' (fern, impv.);
cf. BHS on 52.2; this of course makes the fate of Zion more clearly a
parallel to that of the exiles. But on the other hand, MT as it is, 'Shak
yourself from the dust, arise, and sit down', makes Zion a better contrast
to Babylon (47.1; see Whybray, Isaiah 40-66, p. 165).
25. The pericope is 'probably best seen as a series of later additions
inspired by reflection on [Deutero-Isaiah's] word' (Whybray, Isaiah 40-66,
p. 165).
26. Cf. the message of the female messenger, who announces the
arrival and presence of God (40.9-10). K. Elliger (Deuterojesaja 40,1-45,7
[BKAT, 11/1; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1978], p. 31)
translates 'Frohbotschafterin Zion' and argues that Zion herself is the
surprise that in the following verses (w. 7-10) a male messen-
ger is introduced, bringing words of peace and salvation. He
announces Yahweh's return as king to Jerusalem, with
comfort for the people and freedom for Jerusalem. The ruins
of Jerusalem are summoned to rejoice at what happens to the
city. It is not an isolated and local event; Yahweh will show
his arm in a universal setting, in the sight of all nations, and
so the freedom is realistic from a political point of view also.
1.2.3
The last pericope in the section is short (52.11-12). It is a call
to a 'you9 (masc. plur.) to go away from 'there' (ron).27 It will be
the beginning of a new exodus,28 which, if we do not interpret
it in accordance with the context, could go from anywhere to
anywhere; but in the outline of Deutero-Isaiah it goes from
Babylon to Zion.
They will be able to bring back the vessels taken by Nebu-
chadnezzar, and they will be free to move at their own speed.
But the most important message to the exiles is the end of the
oracle: Tahweh will go before you (masc. plur.), the God of
Israel will be your rearguard'.
2.1
'Behold, my Servant shall prosper!' (52.13). Now, again God
speaks of the Servant, and as in the Servant text in Isaiah 49
he speaks of him in a universal setting (cf. 49.7). The kings
female messenger. It is, however, not probable that it is Zion that says of
God that he 'comes in power, and his arm rules for him'; cf. e.g. 52.7.
27. Cf. the root 110 in 49.21, which means the other direction, from
Judah to Babylon.
28. In the text there are several examples of play upon ideas connected
to the first exodus; see Whybray, Isaiah 40-66, p. 168. H.M. Barstad (A
Way in the Wilderness [JSS Monographs; Manchester: The University of
Manchester, 1989], pp. 102-105) finds that these verses address Zion/
Jerusalem, and that the imagery is that of the holy war, and not the
exodus. Barstad is of course right in stressing that ch. 52 provides a Zion
context, but in my view it is important in the wider context of chs. 49-55
to separate the 'Zion-you' (fern, sing.) from the 'people-you' (masc. plur.).
Moreover, the placing of these verses in the structure of chs. 40-66
makes them a parallel to 48.20-21, which Barstad discusses (pp. 99-101).
will be astonished when they realize to what a degree God
has changed his former poor appearance to an exalted status.
Isa. 52.13-15 is normally treated as the first part of the so-
called fourth Servant song. But it is possible to understand ch.
53 as a closed text (cf. n. 1, above), which deals with the role
of the Servant, not least in relation to the people. By placing
these verses before ch. 53, the Servant's whole work gains an
international context, which was not original.
For the first and only time in Isa. 49-55 we have a *we', a
group of speakers (53.1-6).M The function of the 'we' is to give
voice to a new insight,30 and probably the 'we' corresponds to
the 'you' (masc. plur.) that we have met with several times
since the beginning of ch. 50.
*We' have come to the conclusion that they had misjudged
the person who is interpreted as God's servant in the context
(52.13; 53.11). Their earlier relations to him were determined
by his appearance, which was poor and pathetic, and by
people's attitude towards him, which was one of contempt; he
was 'despised and rejected by men' (v. 3). But it was not 'he',
but 'we', with whom something was wrong. His misery was
related to their sins, and his punishment was a condition for
their peace; he was 'stricken, smitten of God' (v. 4), but the
reason was that Yahweh had 'laid on him the iniquity of us
all'.
The next section (53.7-9) continues the description and inter-
pretation of the fate of the 'man of sorrows'. The 'we' is not the
speaker any longer: 'for the transgressions of my people he
was stricken' (v. 8). The suffix in *D» points to Yahweh, but one
cannot be sure whether the whole section is in his voice.
In these verses we have what is normally understood as the
29. The suffix in irn'jH in Isa. 52.10 and 55.7 does not count in this
connection. See the analysis of the groups and persons and their mutual
interrelations, as expressed in the personal pronouns in Isa. 52.13-53.12,
in D.J.A. Clines, I, He, We, and They: A Literary Approach to Isaiah 53
(JSOTSup, 1; Sheffield: Department of Biblical Studies, 1976), pp. 37-40,
and especially the similarities and differences between 'they' and 'we'
(pp. 39-40).
30. Cf. Isa. 42.24, where it is realized that 'we' had sinned against
Yahweh, and that was why Jacob-Israel was given 'for a spoil'.
proof texts for the notion that the Servant actually died: he
was brought 'as a lamb to the slaughter', 'he was cut off out of
the land of the living*, he made his 'grave with the wicked',
and he 'was with the rich in his death'; but the language is not
at all unambiguous. The result of R.N. Whybray's investiga-
tions is, as already indicated above: The mass of statements
in the poem about the Servant, taken together, make it quite
clear that he was subjected to violence and humiliation, but
these stopped short of his death'.31
Therefore the next verses cannot be proof texts of his resur-
rection either. 53.10-12 deal with the happy future of the
Servant. It is probably not the same subject who speaks in
v. 53.10 and w. 53.11-12. Verse 10 mentions Yahweh in the
third person: it was the will of Yahweh to cause the sufferings
of the Servant and to have success through him.32 This could
be a continuation of the new insight of the 'we', and in this
case it was 'we' who realized that the Servant would gain
offspring.
In the last two verses of ch. 53, the subject is an T, who
talks about 'my servant', and who can do that except Yahweh
himself? God certifies that the Servant 'bare the sin of many,
and made intercession for the transgressors' (v. 53.12), and
that is probably the people.
2.2
I have mentioned mr, 'offspring', as a catchword connecting
ch. 54 to ch. 53; crai, 'many*, is probably another one. In 53.11-
12 God says that the servant does his saving acts for 'the
many*, and in 54.1 a group of the same designation will be the
future inhabitants of Jerusalem.
31. Whybray, Thanksgiving, p. 106. Furthermore, in itself death is

used metaphorically about the sufferings of the exiles; see Ezek. 37.11,
and cf. Jeppesen, SJOT 1 (1990), pp. 124-25.
32. The repeated pan in v. 10 is another sign that the Servant has
taken over the role of Cyrus in the preaching of Deutero-Isaiah. The same
word is used for God's will in connection with Cyrus (44.28; 46.10; 48.14).
The last sentence in v. 10 may refer to Tahweh's plan for the restoration
of his people through imminent historical events' (Whybray, Thanksgiving,
p. 81).
In the imagery, we have met Zion/Jerusalem as a woman
who has given birth (m^), but her sons were worth nothing to
support her in her present poor state (51.18-20). In 54.1 we
find another statement: nYr »*?, 'she has not given birth'.
Logically this nullifies the statement that 'she has given
birth', or vice versa. But in the metaphorical language this is
not the case; historically Jerusalem has 'given birth', but she
has 'not given birth* in the language that pictures Jerusalem
as a widow full of sorrow (54.4); this is the background on
which the happy future should be seen. The woman who has
not given birth is asked to be joyful;33 she will find herself
surrounded by a lot of new children (54.1-3; cf. 49.19-21). A
child born by a barren woman is surely always an unexpected
child; the mere idea of such a child made a Sarah laugh (Gen.
18.12),34 the prayer for such a child made a Hannah suffer
the accusation of being drunk (1 Sam. 1.13).
Zion/Jerusalem was already, as we have seen, mother to a
group of people with whom God could argue (50.1). She has
sons and daughters (49.22), of course especially sons (e.g.
49.25), who will be saved for a happy future. But still the
situation is dark; then, as trump card, the most impressive
part of the mother imagery is played again as in ch. 49. Zion/
Jerusalem will be a mother by surprise*. This is a way in which
it is possible to stress that the initiative belongs exclusively to
God.
In 49.12 the captives whom the Servant shall bring home
will come from all directions; now, the new inhabitants of the
mother town shall spread in all directions, and the offspring
shall inherit the gentiles (54.3); God has redeemed Jerusalem
with consequences for the whole world.
Yahweh will take away the shame of the town: 'your maker
is your husband!' She is, after all, God's wife of his youth. For
a short period he gave her up, as he for a while gave up
33. It is in itself a surprise: 'Wie konnte man eine unfruchtbare zum

Jubel rufen?' (Westermann, Jesaja, p. 219). By this terminology 54.1-3 is
related to 52.9-10, where the ruins of Jerusalem are with the same verbs
summoned to break out in joy.
34. This is not the only example of a connection to the stories of the
patriarchs in this imagery; cf. Sawyer, JSOT44 (1989), p. 95.
humanity in the days of Noah, but now he will restore her in
a covenant of peace (54.4-10).
The afflicted and sorry town, still addressed in the feminine
singular, is promised a glittering future: God himself will
rebuild her with precious stones (w. 11-12), her children will
be taught by God, and all causes for fear will disappear. The
town will not be threatened any more; she shall not suffer
oppression or disaster, because God is her protector; he has
made both the enemy and his weapons.
2.3
Most of ch. 55 is addressed to a *y°u' in the second-person
masculine plural; they are thirsty and poor, probably again a
way of describing the exiles. They are told to come to God to get
what they need, including life and a new and an everlasting
Davidic covenant with consequences for the nations (w. 1-4).
In v. 5 suddenly another 'y°u' in the masculine singular
turns up,35 to disappear again in the rest of the chapter, where
the addressee is plural. The theme of the following verses is
the return to Yahweh. Not only the faithful will be saved, but
also the unfaithful36 have the possibility of returning to
Yahweh. God is much better than the Israelites, and his word
and promises will always be fulfilled.
This section, too, ends with a call to leave a place in peace,
probably again Babylon. Nature will cheer, and the future will
be happy and bright, 'and it shall be for Yahweh for a name,
for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off (55.12-13).
It is impossible to arrive at a clear conclusion after this
relatively quick reading of Isaiah 49-55; but this is of course
not surprising when dealing with metaphorical language. It is
not possible in one sentence and without contradictions to
develop how Deutero-Isaiah used the metaphors in question,
but it would be wrong either to stress the differences in his
use of the metaphor too much or to level them—or for that
35. It is impossible to say whether the singular here is a variant way

of addressing Israel, or whether it is part of a 'new David' oracle. So far
'you' (masc. sing.) in chs. 49-55 has been the Servant.
36. ueh. The preaching is here related to that of Ezek. 18 and 33.
matter to attribute them to different sources.
I have said above that the imagery that speaks of Zion and
the people and the imagery that speaks of the Servant and
the people are twisted into each other, but we have also seen
that they are not identical. The similarities and the possibili-
ties of mingling are probably caused by the fact that 'Servant'
and 'Zion' were both used in the same prophetical tradition as
metaphor for the people.
However, as metaphors dealing with the problems they are
not even coordinated. The Servant is the one who has the call
on Yahweh's behalf to save the people. When he has set the
exiles free and sent them on their way back, it is never said
that he leads them directly to Zion, and, when the people
comes back to Zion, it is never said that they are led there by
the Servant. And the people that the Servant has freed is
never called by the name Zion.
The two groups of metaphors run parallel and never cross
each other's lines. When, for instance, we arrive at the point
where the problems of the people's future are dealt with in the
parent-child language, it is worth noticing that the two
'parents' are never connected. The husband of mother Zion is
not the father Servant, but God.
The marriage aspect is not dominant in Deutero-Isaiah's
preaching, but still it is there. The existence of children
obviously implies a marriage, but is mentioned only in connec-
tion with the mother, who sometimes is said to live in widow-
hood. In the OT tradition the marriage imagery apparently
was a starting point for the preaching of the relation between
the woman-people and Yahweh; the relation was a marriage,
but a bad one. In the book of Hosea the woman was simply a
Tiarlot' (Hos. 1.2), and therefore she was sent away. In Ezekiel
16 Jerusalem was Yahweh's foundling girl, whom he took as
his wife when she had developed and matured. But she
played the harlot, and therefore God judged her according to
the law for adulteresses and gave her into the hands of her
lovers (Ezek. 16.38-39).
It is probably of importance, then, that in the preaching of
Deutero-Isaiah Zion/Jerusalem never played the harlot. 'The
shame of youth' refers probably to what happened in history
and not to her sins. In Deutero-Isaiah there are no bills of
divorcement for the mother; the children are sent away for
their own iniquities, and the mother is sent away for the same
reason. It is not like the proverb of the sour grapes eaten by
parents and causing pain to the teeth of the children (Jer.
31.29; Ezek. 18.2). As Zion/Jerusalem is not a harlot and not a
figure who is responsible for the disaster, in Deutero-Isaiah
no guilt is placed upon the Servant. In a way it is the guilt-
lessness of the mother and the father that forms the back-
ground of the salvation, but the children must also recognize
their own guilt. But it is also suggested that the parents can
gain new offspring, if the present children are worth nothing.
The important insight is that the guilt is placed upon the
present generation. We are close to the explanations in the
book of Ezekiel: 'A son shall not bear the iniquity of the father,
neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son; the
righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the
wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him' (Ezek. 18.20).
Zion is Zion, but is used as a female figure in the meta-
phorical language; she is the counterpart of Babylon. But the
persistent question, which these readings have not answered,
is, What was the Servant? Was he some kind of a mysterious
figure? Sometimes, when he is identical with the people, one is
tempted to understand him as a symbol of the same type as
Zion. But when he has his job to do for the sake of Israel, one
cannot avoid the feeling that Deutero-Isaiah still had a person
in mind, especially when the Servant takes over the role of
Cyrus.
KNOWLEDGE, HUMILIATION OR SUFFERING:
A LEXICAL, TEXTUAL AND EXEGETICAL PROBLEM
IN ISAIAH 53
Anthony Gelston
The lexicography of Biblical Hebrew has been enriched at a

number of points through the application of comparative
philology. James Barr*s Comparative Philology and the Text
of the Old Testament1 subjected this methodology to a search-
ing critique, and exposed weaknesses in a number of specific
proposals made in its light. On pp. 19-21 he mentions one of
the best known proposals, that of D. Winton Thomas, who
claimed that the common verb irp did not always mean 'to
know', but in a number of passages was a different verb,
cognate with the Arabic root wd', meaning 'to become still,
quiet, at rest'. While the meaning 'to know' suits the vast
majority of occurrences of the root in' in the Hebrew Bible,
Thomas suggested that the proposed second root is to be found
in some 39 passages in all, including one in Ecclesiasticus,
three where the root :rp is a minority reading, and four where
it is obtained only by emendation. Even when allowance was
made for doubtful instances, the proposal seemed to be
sufficiently broadly based to be plausible.
The root in' occurs twice in the notoriously difficult prophecy
of the Servant in Isaiah 53. In v. 3 urn seems to contain the
passive participle qal of irr, and it is rendered 'acquainted
with grief in both RV and RSV. In v. 11 inim incorporate
either the infinitive construct qal of in' or the cognate verbal
noun run, and RV and RSV accordingly render *by his knowl-
edge'. (Italics in these and subsequent renderings are my own,
and are provided to highlight the translation of the root irp).
1. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968.
GELSTON Knowledge, Humiliation or Suffering 127
The fact that both of these renderings pose difficulties for the
understanding of the passage will be apparent from the sub-
sequent discussion. Shortly before his death, Thomas delivered
a paper to the Society for Old Testament Study, which was
subsequently published in two places;2 in this he presented a
detailed study of the text and interpretation of Isaiah 53. His
renderings of the two passages in question are respectively
'brought low by sickness' (v. 3) and 'received his full measure
of humiliation' (v. 11). These are reflected in the REB, which
renders 'afflicted by disease' and *by his humiliation'.
It cannot be denied that these renderings are apposite to the
context. Norman Why bray 3 followed Thomas in rendering
'humbled by' in v. 3 and 'humiliation' in v. 11. In a recent
article4 I too followed Thomas, rendering 'laid low with sick-
ness' in v. 3 and 'by his humiliation' in v. 11. It has been a
matter of personal satisfaction to me that, although Norman
and I have differed over a number of questions in the inter-
pretation of Second Isaiah, we have agreed in our acceptance
of Thomas's theory, which seemed to illuminate a difficult
passage.
Thomas himself presented the evidence for the second root
irr in a number of publications, but never reviewed the whole
of it together. In 1970 John Emerton published a long and
searching study5 of the passages relevant to Thomas's theory,
and concluded that 'there were some problems to which it
supplied the best solution. On the whole, Thomas's suggestion
about the meanings of irp seemed to be the most satisfactory
working hypothesis.'6 In an important recent article,7 however,
2. D. Winton Thomas, 'A Consideration of Isaiah LIII in the Light of

Recent Textual and Philological Study", ETL 44 (1968), pp. 79-86; and in
H. Gazelles (ed.), De Man a Qumran (Paris: Lethielleux, 1969), pp. 119-26.
3. R.N. Whybray, Isaiah 40-66 (NCB; London: Oliphants, 1975).
4. A. Gelston, 'Isaiah 52.13-53.12: An Eclectic Text and a
Supplementary Note on the Hebrew Manuscript Kennicott 96', JSS 35
(1990), pp. 187-211.
5. J.A. Emerton, 'A Consideration of Some Alleged Meanings of BT in
Hebrew', JSS 15 (1970), pp. 145-80.
6. Emerton, 'Some Alleged Meanings of in'', p. 179.
7. W. Johnstone, 'YD' II, "Be humbled, humiliated"?', VT 41 (1991),
pp. 49-62.
William Johnstone has exposed the weakness of the Arabic
basis of Thomas's suggestion that I>T can denote *be humbled,
humiliated'. Johnstone fully explored the semantic range of
the Arabic root wd\ and concluded that, while 19 of the
passages in the Hebrew Bible might legitimately be explained
in its light, the meanings proposed in the other 20 could not
be sustained in the light of the semantic range of the Arabic
root. The two passages in Isaiah 53 are among those where
the philological basis is shown to be invalid. Emerton himself
published 'A Further Consideration of D.W. Thomas's Theories
about ydda"B almost immediately. In this article he agreed
with Johnstone that Thomas's theory must be abandoned, but
pointed out that the difficulties that Thomas sought to remove
by postulating a different root have not disappeared. In the
course of a general discussion of this problem Emerton was
able to devote only eight lines9 specifically to the two passages
in Isaiah 53. The present study, which I am glad to offer in
honour of Norman Whybray's distinguished contribution to
the study of the Old Testament, is an attempt to reconsider
these two passages in the light of Johnstone's refutation of
Thomas's theory.
One of the attractions of Thomas's theory was that irum in
Isa. 53.11 could be seen as a deliberate reference back to BIT
in v. 3, which John Day10 compared to several other examples
of verbal repetition in the chapter. It is not necessary, how-
ever, that the root should have the same meaning in both pass-
ages. Peter Ackroyd11 suggested that there might have been a
conscious intention to convey a different sense in the two pass-
ages. Following Johnstone's refutation of Thomas's theory, it is
wise to begin by examining the two passages separately, and
8. J.A. Emerton, 'A Further Consideration of D.W. Thomas's Theories

about yada", VT 41 (1991), pp. 145-63.
9. Emerton, 'A Further Consideration', pp. 160-61.
10. J. Day, 'Da'at "Humiliation" in Isaiah liii 11 in the Light of Isaiah liii
3 and Daniel xii 4, and the Oldest Known Interpretation of the Suffering
Servant', VT 30 (1980), pp. 97-103 (98).
11. P.R. Ackroyd, 'Meaning and Exegesis', in P.R. Ackroyd and
B. Lindars (eds.), Words and Meanings (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1968), p. 13.
only to interpret them in the light of each other if suitably
convergent or contrasting meanings suggest themselves. It is
also wise to begin in each case by enquiring whether a
meaning suitable to the immediate context can be found
within the normal semantic range of the root jrr = 'to know*.
At first sight 'acquainted with grief is only a lighter state-
ment of the Servant's condition than *brought low*, 'humbled'
or 'afflicted' by sickness, disease or suffering, and does not
therefore require a radical rethinking of the passage in its
immediate context. For our present purposes we need not con-
cern ourselves with the precise connotation of the noun
rendered variously 'grief, 'sickness' or 'disease'. Its semantic
range covers all these meanings, and if we opt for a more
specific translation like 'pain' or 'sickness' it remains likely
that in this context it is to be understood in a metaphorical
sense. English usage might suggest that the word 'acquainted'
means simply that the Servant was not entirely a stranger to
the experience of suffering, which would be a relatively weak
statement in the general context of this chapter, and distinctly
weaker than Thomas's interpretation. The Hebrew word,
however, has no such overtones of only slight knowledge, and
this nuance must be discounted.
The real difficulty with this word lies in its grammatical form.
It is most probably to be regarded as the passive participle qal,
and as such it denotes 'known' rather than 'knowing*. The
traditional 'acquainted' is again misleading, because its
passive form suggests 'brought into a state of knowledge' and
expresses the Servant's experience of knowing rather than
the content of his knowledge. Such a concept would be more
naturally expressed in Hebrew by the niph'al of in1 as in Jer.
31.19, or, even more naturally, by the pu'al of no'? as in Cant.
3.8. The passive qal of JTP suggests more naturally the object or
content of the knowledge rather than the cognitive experience
of the agent. G.R. Driver12 refers to Deut. 1.13, Deut. 1.15, the
only other instances of the passive participle qal of this verb
in the Old Testament, where the meaning is certainly
'known', and where, as in Isa. 53.3, it describes persons. The
12. G.R. Driver, linguistic and Textual Problems: Isaiah i-xxxix', JTS
38 (1937), pp. 36-50 (49).
context refers to the selection by Moses of heads over groups
of 10, 50, 100 or 1000, and those selected had to be both wise
and 'known'; REB renders 'men of... repute'. Accordingly,
Driver states that if the verb »T in Isa. 53.3 is the verb 'to
know*, 'the only possible meaning for *m BIT is "known, famous
for sickness"', a meaning that Emerton dismisses as 'manifestly
absurd'.13 It would seem, however, to fall within the para-
meters of the semantic range of the passive of jrr to translate
here 'notorious for suffering', and to understand the phrase as
indicative of the extraordinary degree of suffering experienced
by the Servant. This seems to be how the text is interpreted
by the later Greek translations of Aquila, Theodotion and
Symmachus. It is certainly not necessary to follow North14 in
translating 'known by sickness', where 'sickness' is regarded
as a personification.
The traditional rendering 'acquainted with grief, however,
despite its passive form, more naturally implies in English an
active knowledge or experience on the part of the Servant.
Such a sense is reflected in several of the versions: LXX
av, Peshitta yd' hs', and Vulgate scientem infir-
mitatem. All of these read as if they were translating the
active rather than the passive participle. This can be
explained in two ways. lQIsa reads the active participle inv,
the position of the vocalic waw indicating beyond doubt that
the active participle is intended. lQIsb reads simply irr, with-
out vocalic waw either before or after daleth, and is thus
ambiguous; since, however, the passive participle is generally
written with vocalic waw, this MS too may be thought impli-
citly to support the reading of the active participle. It may,
therefore, be the case that the Hebrew Vorlage from which
the LXX, Peshitta and Vulgate translations were made also
read the active participle.
Emerton,15 however, points out that the traditional text
itself need not be interpreted as a passive participle. He refers
13. Emerton, 'Some Alleged Meanings of irr', p. 175.

14. C.R. North, The Second Isaiah (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1964),
p. 238.
15. Emerton, 'Some Alleged Meanings of irp', pp. 175-76; 'A Further
Consideration', p. 160.
to GK §50f for an alternative possibility, that this is a distinct
pa'ul form with an active meaning. Most of the examples
given in GK are from intransitive verbs, but three are from
transitive verbs, one being the present instance (rendered
'knowing*). The other two are nrw ('handling') in Cant. 3.8,
which seems to be a clear case, and TOT ('mindful') in Ps
103.14, where there is some uncertainty about the text. In
view of the slender evidence for this form in transitive verbs it
is probably preferable to follow the evidence of the Qumran
MSS and the Versions and read the active participle than to
retain the traditional text and interpret it as a pa'ul, although
this must remain a possibility.
The traditional rendering 'acquainted with grief may there-
fore be regarded as a legitimate translation of either of the
known readings of the consonantal Hebrew text. If one gives
preference to the reading of the active participle, or under-
stands the traditional text as a pa'ul form rather than as a
passive participle, the basic meaning is 'knowing' sickness or
suffering, and it might even be reasonable to paraphrase
'versed' in suffering. This would yield a meaning not much
weaker than brought low*, liumbled' or 'afflicted' by suffering,
which has been shown by Johnstone to lack a secure philolo-
gical basis. At the same time, if the traditional text is retained
but interpreted as a passive participle, a satisfactory sense can
again be obtained: Toiown' or possibly 'notorious' for suffering.
Both the active "knowing* suffering and the passive Tmown' for
suffering are thus soundly based in the textual evidence, and
both interpretations can be nuanced in translation so as to
underline the extraordinary degree of the Servant's suffering.
Targum Jonathan also renders the verb as a passive
participle, but uses a verbal root (pr), whose meaning seems to
be to 'designate'. The Servant is thus described as 'designated'
or 'destined' for suffering. This meaning would also seem
appropriate in the context, and it is just possible that the ordi-
nary Hebrew verb irr could be understood in this sense. There
are a few passages where such a nuance seems appropriate,
and Walter Moberly16 puts the case succinctly when he writes
16. R.W.L. Moberly, At the Mountain of God (JSOTSup, 22; Sheffield:

JSOT Press, 1983), p. 70.
of this verb: 'When used of God's relationship to man it can
have the force of "to elect"'. Moberly is discussing Exod. 33.12,
17, of which J.P. Hyatt17 writes: '"I know you by name" here
means virtually to "single out", to "choose"'. Both refer to Gen.
18.19, perhaps the clearest example of all, where RSV renders
'I have chosen him' and REB 'I have singled him out'. Other
passages where this meaning is possible are: 2 Sam. 7.20 =
1 Chron. 17.18; Jer. 1.5 (where REB renders 'I chose you');
Hos. 13.5 (where the text is uncertain); Amos 3.2. Moberly
refers to the last three of these passages. In some of them the
sense 'recognize' or 'acknowledge' as of a vassal by a suzerain
may be more appropriate. It is interesting that the Targum
recognizes the sense 'choose' in Amos 3.2. It would certainly fit
the context for the Servant in Isa. 53.3 to be described as
'singled out' or 'designated' for suffering, and such an inter-
pretation could claim the support of Targum Jonathan.
Moberly, however, pointed out that the passages where »T
may have this sense are passages where the verb is used of
God's relationship to human beings, and this is not the case in
Isa. 53.3. Too much needs to be read into the phrase here to
make this a natural interpretation.
A number of Jewish mediaeval commentators interpreted
the root ITP in the sense 'break', 'discipline' or 'punish',
explaining the word with reference to the verbs nae? and no'
(pi'el). The evidence has been listed succinctly by Emerton,18
and its significance has been considered by him19 in the light of
Johnstone's refutation of Thomas's theory. He concludes that
the explanation of JJT by ~iao was influenced, if not entirely
caused, by the Targumic rendering of jm in Judg. 8.16 by ~iam
(cognate with Hebrew nato), and he describes as attractive the
theory (suggested by L.J. Liebreich20 and accepted by
Johnstone 21 ) that the Targumic rendering in Judg. 8.16
17. J.P. Hyatt, Exodus (NCB; London: Oliphants, 1971), p. 316.

18. Emerton, 'Some Alleged Meanings of in'', pp. 151-52.
19. Emerton, 'A Further Consideration', pp. 153-57.
20. L.J. Liebreich, 'Observations on "Some Rabbinic Evidence for a
Hebrew Root JJT = wd' (JQR XXXVII, 177-8)"', JQR NS 37 (1946-47),
pp. 337-39.
21. Johnstone, 'yd' II', pp. 60-61.
derived from a Hebrew Vorlage im (from »m to 'break', i
having been read in place of T). Several of the Jewish com-
mentators who interpret the root irp in Isa. 53.3 in the sense
'break' refer explicitly to Judg. 8.16. What seems to have
happened is that an apparently satisfactory unusual meaning
of in1 had been discovered in the difficult passage Judg. 8.16,
and that it was then found appropriate in other passages as
well, of which Isa. 53.3 was one. There is in that case a curi-
ous parallel to the development of Thomas's theory, in that
Isa. 53.3 was not one of the passages where difficulty in render-
ing irp in the sense to *know' initially inspired the search for a
different meaning, but once the meaning Tiumbled' had been
apparently established in other passages Driver22 suggested
its suitability in this passage too, and Thomas23 subsequently
accepted the suggestion and applied the new meaning to inim
in v. 11 as well. However suitable in themselves either
*broken' or Immbled' may be to the context in Isa. 53.3, we
have seen that there are no insuperable difficulties in gaining
a satisfactory interpretation of this passage within the para-
meters of the ordinary meaning of the root irr. In view of the
dubious basis of the Jewish mediaeval interpretation of irp in
terms of "mo, and the absence of any serious difficulty in
translating the root irr in Isa. 53.3, there is no need to con-
sider this Jewish mediaeval interpretation further here.
The interpretation of irr with reference to the pi'el of "10% on
the other hand, Emerton suggests, is most naturally to be
seen as a development from the ordinary sense to 'know*, viz.
to 'teach a lesson'. While this might be regarded as a satisfac-
tory explanation of the difficult Judg. 8.16, it is not a natural
way of reading irm in Isa. 53.3. We have already seen that the
niph'al of JTP or the pu'al of itf? would be the natural way of
expressing in Hebrew the idea that the servant had been
brought into a state of knowledge by suffering, and the same
would apply to the special nuance 'taught' or 'disciplined'. It
has become clear that there are no serious difficulties standing
in the way of interpreting urn in Isa. 53.3 within the para-
22. Driver, linguistic and Textual Problems', p. 49.

23. D. Winton Thomas, TMore Notes on the Root srr in Hebrew', JTS 38
(1937), pp. 404-405.
meters of the ordinary semantic range of BT to 'know5. Several
interpretations have proved possible, and it is unwise as well
as unnecessary to invoke unusual meanings when the usual
meaning affords satisfactory sense in the context.
Before leaving Isa. 53.3 mention should finally be made of
the reading of one mediaeval MS, de Rossi 319, which reads
jrm (i for i). This would presumably be a passive participle of
jrv, which occurs only once in the Old Testament, at Isa. 15.4
where, however, the LXX implies i rather than •>. This reading
was proposed by J. Reider24 as an emendation, and he trans-
lated the phrase 'weak from sickness'. He seems to have been
unaware of the presence of this reading in de Rossi 319,
where, however, it is much more likely to have arisen as an
error in copying. Since the proposed meaning of the phrase is
weak, and the existence of the supposed root in Biblical
Hebrew is doubtful, it seems best to ignore this possibility.25
The problem of iruna in Isa. 53.11 is a good deal more com-
plex. For one thing, this part of the passage bristles with
textual and exegetical problems, and it is impossible to con-
sider this word in isolation. It is, however, impracticable and
unnecessary to review all the problems of this verse in the
present discussion.26 The main point to notice is that this
particular word can be construed either with what precedes or
(following the traditional accentuation) with what follows. In
both constructions the normal translation 'knowledge' is
problematic. If the word is construed with the preceding word,
the meaning appears to be: 'he will be satisfied with his
knowledge'. Apart from the fact that the context gives no indi-
cation of what knowledge in particular affords the Servant
satisfaction, it is difficult to see how the concept of satisfaction
in knowledge affords meaning in the context of the rest of the
24. J. Reider, 'Etymological Studies: DT or in' and Din', JBL 66 (1947),

pp. 315-17.
25. See further the comments by Emerton, 'Some Alleged Meanings of
DT', p. 176.
26. My own position on the other problems in the verse may be seen in
'Some Notes on Second Isaiah', VT 21 (1971), pp. 517-27 (524-27), and
'Isaiah 52.13-53.12', pp. 187-204.
verse. T.H. Robinson27 suggested that the knowledge was that
gained through the vision, that is, that implied in the
immediately preceding statement, Tie will see light' (following
the reading of IQIs8, lQIsb and LXX). It is more likely,
however, that if this reading is correct its meaning in this
context is essentially *he will live', that is, come to life again
after his death in w. 8-9. If, on the other hand, mina is
construed with what follows, the meaning appears to be: *by
his knowledge shall my Servant justify the many* (ignoring
the problematic pns, which does not bear on the immediate
question). Once again it is difficult to determine what particu-
lar knowledge is envisaged, and the concept of justification or
vindication of others by one's own knowledge is not only
without parallel but difficult in any case to comprehend at all.
In the light of Johnstone's exposure of the inadequate philo-
logical basis of the rendering ^humiliation', we are compelled
either to search for some other meaning of nin within the
normal semantic range of the word that will yield a satis-
factory meaning in the context, or to resort to emendation of
the text.
A further ambiguity resides in the suffix of inim; it may be
either subjective or objective. Retaining for the moment the
translation "knowledge', we thus have four theoretical possibi-
lities. If the word is construed with what precedes—*he will be
satisfied with his knowledge'—the reference might be either to
the Servant's own knowledge of some unspecified object
(subjective suffix) or to the knowledge which others, again
unspecified, have of him (objective suffix). The second inter-
pretation, however, is tortuous, and this concept would have
been much more clearly expressed by a niph'al infinitive: iirnn?-
If the word is construed with what follows—*by his knowledge
shall my Servant justify the many*—the presumption must
again be in favour of a subjective suffix, since the verb is active
and singular. It is difficult to see how it could be construed as
an objective suffix at all, since his own action of justifying
could hardly be carried out by the knowledge which others
have of him. Nor could the reference be to God's knowledge of
27. T.H. Robinson, 'Note on the Text and Interpretation of Isaiah liii.
3.11', ExpTim 71 (1959-60), p. 383.
the Servant, since in that case the suffix would have to be in
the first person, to agree with 'my Servant' and the Servant
himself would have to be denoted by a separate info, the whole
phrase reading info Tiiro. It seems, therefore, that the suffix
must be construed as a subjective one, whatever the meaning
of run.
Little help is available from the ancient versions. The LXX
and other Greek versions translate by ovveoiq or YV&ON; and
construe the word with what precedes, as does the Peshitta.
Targum Jonathan, on the other hand, renders *by his wisdom'
and construes it with the following words, which it para-
phrases and expands. The whole clause is thus rendered: *by
his wisdom shall he justify the just, in order to subject many to
the law'.28 This seems to imply an interpretation along the
lines of the Servant bringing about the justification of others
by teaching them to accept the obligation of obedience to the
Torah, but such an interpretation clearly reads a good deal
into the Hebrew text, and cannot be said to be a natural
exegesis of it. It finds echoes, however, in some of the Jewish
mediaeval commentators. David Kimhi, for instance, explains
inn as the Servant's knowledge of the Lord, referring to Isa.
11.9 and Jer. 31.34. Construing the word with the following
clause, he interprets the whole in terms of Isa. 2.3: 'that he
may teach us his ways'. The Vulgate alone among the ancient
versions renders the word in such a way that it can be con-
strued with either what precedes or what follows; the transla-
tion itself is literal and raises all the problems of interpretation
that the Hebrew does. One has to conclude that the ancient
versions offer no hint of either an alternative Hebrew Vorlage
or an unusual meaning of the word nin; all of them render it
with terms like "knowledge', 'understanding* and 'wisdom'.
In the quest for an alternative meaning of the word nin we
may begin by asking whether anything may yet be salvaged
from Thomas's theory. Johnstone has demonstrated beyond
doubt the untenability of the interpretation 'humiliation', but
his discussion left open the possibility that in 19 of the 39
passages in which Thomas suggested that the Hebrew root irp
28. The translation is that of J.F. Stenning, The Targum of
Isaiah (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1949), p. 180.
might be cognate with the Arabic root wd" the semantic range
of the Arabic root might afford justification for the meanings
suggested by Thomas for the Hebrew. On closer examination,
however, six of these passages must be excluded as irrelevant
to the present passage; they all derive from parts of the verb
other than the qal, and three in any case rest on emendations
on the basis of LXX (Jer. 24.1; Amos 3.3; Prov. 10.21). In fact in
only three passages (Ps. 35.15; Job. 9.5; Eccl. 10.20) is a
meaning from jrp II marginally preferable to 'know'. The
range of meaning claimed for the passages in which the qal
occurs is as follows: be still, quiet, at ease; have rest; care for,
keep in mind; lay down; leave alone, have nothing to do with,
let go on, continue; leave alone, neglect.29 One could not render
'by his stillness' in the sense of patient submission to
undeserved suffering, as in v. 7, because the meaning 'still-
ness' has the overtones of *being at ease'. Hugh Williamson30
suggests *he will be satisfied with his rest', but is this not an
anticlimax after the statement that *he will see light (i.e. live)*?
The only other meaning that might be thought remotely suit-
able is 'leave alone, neglect', but this would need to be
expressed in the passive to make it clear that it was neglect of
the Servant rather than neglect of others by him. While 'by
his humiliation' would have suited the context well, we are
driven to the conclusion that none of the meanings of a
second root irr attested by the actual usage of the supposed
cognate Arabic root wd' will afford a satisfactory sense in Isa.
53.11.
One of the passages where Thomas suggested the occur-
rence of the second root jrr was 1 Sam. 6.3: ccb irrm, where LXX
has the striking rendering: KCU eîtaxaOfiaeiai ujuv. If this
could have been taken as evidence that the niph'al of irr could
be used to express the passive sense of atonement being
made, and if it could have been assumed that the qal could
express the corresponding active sense of making atonement,
it would have made possible a highly suggestive translation in
Isa. 53.11: 'by his making atonement my Servant will justify
29. See Johnstone, 'yd' II', pp. 59-60.

30. H.G.M. Williamson, 'Da'ai in Isaiah liii 11', VT 28 (1978), pp. 118-
22 (120).
many*. Such a rendering might be linked with DDK in the pre-
vious verse (if this itself is indeed a correct reading). It has
become clear, however, as Emerton points out,31 that the LXX
translation in 1 Sam. 6.3 is of a variant Hebrew Vorlage "1SD3
now attested in 4QSama. There is therefore no evidence that
in' can mean 'to make atonement', and no basis for an inter-
pretation of Isa. 53.11 on such lines.
Are there then any unusual meanings of the ordinary root
UT that might make sense in Isa. 53.11? In v. 3 we found that
the special sense to 'designate', 'single out' or 'choose' might
possibly be relevant, but it is difficult to see how this could fit
in v. 11, where the active form is found, and would presum-
ably denote the Servant's choice of some other unspecified
person.
Another possibility that is attractive at first sight is the
special sense of the knowledge of God found in a small number
of passages, where the meaning seems to be that knowledge
of God is shown in obedience to his will and commandments.
BDB, p. 395b, under the noun run, gives the meaning (§2, b)
'knowledge of God (incl. obedience)'. Perhaps the clearest
example of this meaning is to be found in Jeremiah's eulogy
of Josiah (Jer. 22.15-16): Tie... dealt justly and fairly; all went
well with him. He upheld the cause of the lowly and poor;
then all was well. Did not this show he knew me? says the
LORD' (REB). Other examples may be seen in Hos. 4.1, 6; 6.6;
Isa. 1.3. In the light of this Bo Reicke32 suggested the trans-
lation of our passage: 'Through his obedience my servant
proves to be truly righteous to the advantage of the multi-
tude'. He argued that such an interpretation is appropriate in
the context of the chapter as a whole, which 'indicates that a
practised knowledge of God in the sense of "submission" and
"obedience" is to be expected here'. It is interesting to find the
sense of 'submission' suggested here, without any invoking of
the second root sn\ L.C. Allen,33 however, when considering a
31. Emerton, 'A Further Consideration', p. 148 and n. 2.

32. B. Reicke, The Knowledge of the Suffering Servant', in Das feme und
nahe Wort (BZAW, 105; Giessen: Topelmann, 1967), pp. 186-92 (188-89).
33. L.C. Allen, 'Isaiah liii. 11 and its Echoes', Vox Evangelica 1 (1962),
pp. 24-28 (26).
similar line of interpretation, makes the pertinent comment
that 'although the knowledge of God in the Old Testament
implies and leads on to obedience, "obedience" is not easily
substituted for "knowledge"'. In other words, could the single
word nin convey this particular nuance without anything in
the immediate context to suggest such a specific meaning?
Would it not in any case need to have the divine object
expressed to make the sense clear, i.e. 'nfc inim, 'by his
knowledge of me*?
A meaningful translation of inirn within the parameters of
the normal meaning of the root in' that will fit the context in
Isa. 53.11 has thus proved elusive. We have found no plausi-
ble interpretation that does not require a good deal of reading
between the lines. Nor, as we have seen, is there any evidence
in the ancient versions of a different Hebrew Vorlage. We are
driven therefore to consider whether resort should be had to
conjectural emendation.
The first English edition of the Jerusalem Bible contained
the rendering: 'By his sufferings shall my servant justify
many', and a footnote explained that 'sufferings' was the
reading of one Hebrew MS, while the rest read 'knowledge'.
The New Jerusalem Bible has reverted to *by his knowledge'
without any mention of the variant reading. The reading in
question is inirn (~i for i), and is found in MS Kennicott 89. It is
recorded in the apparatus of BHK, but not in that of BHS.
The evidence of one mediaeval MS, unsupported by any other
Hebrew MSS or by any of the ancient versions, is quite inade-
quate to substantiate the reading. It is far more likely to have
arisen as a simple copyist's error than to represent a genuine
survival of an otherwise lost original reading. But the very
ease with which such an error might occur raises the possi-
bility that the opposite error may have occurred at a very
early stage in the transmission of the Hebrew text. In other
words it is possible that MS Kennicott 89, may, paradoxically
contain the original reading after all, even if it came about as
the result of a double and therefore self-cancelling error. If
L.C. Allen34 and John Day35 are right to see in Dan. 12.4 a
34. Allen, 'Isaiah liii. 11', p. 26.
35. Day, 'Da'at "Humiliation" in Isaiah liii. 11', pp. 97-103.
deliberate reference to Isa. 53.11, the reading vum must pre-
sumably have already been established in the latter passage
by the middle of the second century BCE. The case for a hypo-
thetical original irunn must rest almost entirely on the
difficulty of finding a satisfactory meaning of the traditional
reading in its context, and the appropriateness to that context
of the meaning of the alternative reading suggested. The
presence of the alternative reading in MS Kennicott 89 can be
regarded at most as supporting evidence, showing how easily
the letters i and i can be interchanged in the process of
copying.
The word nin is the ordinary word for 'evil', with a wide
semantic range, and certainly including the kind of evil that
consists of suffering or adversity as well as moral evil. The
translation 'by his suffering* falls well within the semantic
range of the noun, and several passages in the Hebrew Bible
can be cited to illustrate its use with a pronominal suffix
denoting the person suffering. Three examples with third
person suffix are: Obad. 13 irons (RV 'on their affliction'), Jon.
4.6 ironn (REB *his discomfort') and Eccl. 5.12 (EW 5.13)
(REB 'to his own hurt'). An example with first-person suffix
may be found in Ps. 35.4 'nm 'son (RV 'that devise my hurt',
REB 'who plan my downfall'), while an example of the plural
noun with second-person plural suffix may be found in
1 Sam. 10.19 CD'miri (RV 'your calamities'). A rendering *by his
suffering shall my Servant justify the many* fits the context of
Isa. 53.11 as well as Thomas's rendering of mn by 'humiliation'
(although of course Thomas had a different view of the
syntax of the verse). The concept of the Servant's suffering as
vicarious seems to be clearly expressed at least in 53.4-6, and
to afford an appropriate background for understanding the
restored irons in v. 11.
We are now in a position to assess the consequences for the
interpretation of Isaiah 53 of Johnstone's refutation of
Thomas's theory that the root irp can denote humiliation. In
the case of v. 3 it has proved possible to interpret :rm in
several ways within the ordinary meaning of in' 'to know'. The
Servant is represented as either knowing suffering through
his own experience, or being known for his suffering. Either
interpretation fits the context, and the active interpretation
may be obtained from either the traditional text or the
reading of IQIs8. In the case of v. 11, on the other hand, the
difficulties of interpreting inim within the semantic range of
the ordinary root irp 'to know' have proved insuperable, and
we have had to resort to conjectural emendation of one letter
in the consonantal text. This is not the only passage where a
similar emendation seems the best solution to the difficulties
of rendering the root, as Emerton points out.36 Hypothetical
emendation is always a last resort, but it is preferable to an
unintelligible text. In this case not only is the miscopying
supposed one of the simplest imaginable; we have the positive
evidence that the reverse error in copying actually occurred in
MS Kennicott 89. Both passages in Isaiah 53 can now be
interpreted meaningfully within the context of the chapter as
a whole, and no radical reinterpretation has been necessitated
by the withdrawal of Thomas's explanation of the two occur-
rences of the root irp. The main casualty is that the reference
back from v. 11 to v. 3, which Thomas's explanation made
possible, is no longer tenable, since the same root is no longer
found in the two passages. The refutation of Thomas's theory
has deprived us of an attractive interpretation, but has not
left us with any insuperable problems in the interpretation of
this chapter, nor has it necessitated a radically different line
of interpretation. The many other uncertainties of interpreta-
tion of this passage will no doubt continue to exercise the
minds of scholars, and it is always possible that fresh manu-
script discoveries will bring further readings to light. In the
meantime I hope the present study will have helped to clarify
the issues in these passages.
36. Emerton, 'A Further Consideration', p. 162.

METACOMMENTATING AMOS
David J.A. Clines
The hallmark of Norman Whybray's scholarship, in my

opinion, is its quizzicality. He takes nothing for granted, he
listens to others with a benevolent scepticism, he believes in
demystifying. No egotist, he even turns the same arched eye-
brow towards himself and his earlier work. He is a great
debunker. But he is not a cynic. He believes in the common
scholarly enterprise, and he knows the literature; but he
knows that we will only make progress if we are all the time
bending the searchlight of common sense on our assumptions.
He would make a great metacommentator; or perhaps, one
should say, he is already, but sees no need for the fancy
modern jargon.
Metacommentary, what is that? Let me try this formulation:
When we write commentary, we read what commentators say.
When we write metacommentary, we notice what commen-
tators do.
This plain and symmetrical account of metacommentary
seems to begin immediately to collapse, however, the moment
it has been formulated. For what do commentators do apart
from what they say? Apart from playing squash or lying late
in bed, which we do not want to know about, what do com-
mentators do other than what they say?
Well, the main thing they do but do not say is not say what
they don't say. Not many say, Of course, I am failing to ask
this question of the text, or, I am hiding from you, dear
reader, my own opinion on the matter, or, I come to this text
with a prejudice about what it ought to mean. So, since we
innocent members of the public, who go on laying out good
money on commentaries, need protection against these
CLINES Metacommentating Amos 143
commentators who are failing to tell us what it is they are
failing to tell us, it becomes an urgent public duty to create a
neighbourhood watch committee of metacommentators who
will tell us how we are being shortchanged.
You can search high and low for metacommentary on Amos
and Amos commentators, for it is a rare scholar who will step
outside the ideology of the text and notice how severely tradi-
tional commentary has been constrained by the outlook of the
text. But I did find one, whose feminist perspective gave her a
vantage point, outside the text, from which the Amos land-
scape suddenly took on new and surprising contours. Judith
Sanderson, in The Women's Bible Commentary, noticed, as
everyone else has, how the oracles of Amos vigorously con-
demn the wealthy women of Samaria for oppressing the poor,
but also, as no one else has, that they they do not champion
the women among those poor. And when Amos condemns the
wealthy women of Samaria, because Sanderson is a feminist
reader she does not automatically adopt the prophet's
standpoint, but suspects that his condemnation is yet another
scapegoating of women, who are being blamed now not only
for sexual sins (as usual) but for social and economic injustices
in society as well.1 'A survey of modern commentaries on Amos
4.1 reveals the alacrity with which women are blamed for
societies' evils, [and] their relative powerlessness is dis-
regarded', she writes, metacommentatingly.2 She is quite
right; but her feminist critique is only a paradigm for several
types of criticism that can be made.3
1. These women, we must recall, are 'the pampered darlings of society

in Israel's royalist culture...ruling the society of Israel from behind the
scenes with sweet petulant nagging for wealth to support their indolent
dalliance' (James L. Mays, Amos: A Commentary [OTL; London: SCM
Press, 1969], p. 72).
2. Judith Sanderson, 'Amos', in The Women's Bible Commentary (ed.
Carol A. Newsom and Sharon H. Ringe; London: SPCK, 1992), pp. 205-
209 (205-206).
3. I am speaking here only of more or less contemporary commenta-
tors. Some older commentators, especially when writing from an avowedly
Christian perspective, did not feel the same degree of inhibition towards
evaluation of their text. Here, for example, is R.S. Cripps: '[T]he Prophet's
conception of God is not perfect. One of the mistakes which the Christian
Metacommentating Amos myself, I propose noticing some of
the things commentators do. First, they adopt the view of the
text regarding the social and economic situation in ancient
Israel. Secondly, they adopt the ideology of the text regarding
the existence of God and the authenticity of the prophetic
vocation. Thirdly, they conceal from their readers that this is
what they are doing.
1. Commentators and the Social Critique of Amos

I take here the woe against the rich in 6.4-7:
Alas for those who lie on beds of ivory,
and lounge on their couches,
and eat lambs from the flock,
and calves from the stall;
who sing idle songs to the sound of the harp,
and like David improvise on instruments of music;
who drink wine from bowls,
and anoint themselves with the finest oils,
but are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph!
Therefore they shall now be the first to go into exile,
and the revelry of the loungers shall pass away (NRSV).
Let me engage first in a little Sachkritik as a backdrop to
reading some commentators. There is undoubtedly a great
deal of anger in this passage against the rich in Samaria, and
its spirit of denunciation against idleness and luxury strikes a
chord with democratically minded and hard-working readers.
But a reader who has not yet opened a commentary pauses,
at least long enough to ask, What exactly is the crime of these
Samarians for which they are being threatened with exile? Is
there some sin in having expensive ivory inlays on your
Church has made, resulting in damage impossible to calculate, has been

to standardise as eternal and ultimate truth that which was but a stage—
however lofty—in the slow process of its revelation and discovery... If
any picture of God found within the O.T. had been perfect, then one of the
reasons for the appearing of Jesus would have become unnecessary' (A
Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Amos [London: SPCK,
1929], p. 25). However unacceptable today the theory of 'progressive
revelation' may be, at least it enabled its adherents to adopt a critical
stance toward their texts.
bedframe? (Amos, we presume, is not worried about the fate of
elephants.) No doubt meat of any kind was something of a
delicacy in ancient Israel, and these people are eating the meat
of choice animals prepared for the table; but is that wrong?4
(Again we can suppose that Amos is not vegetarian and that
the text has no fault to find with the farming methods.)5 And
as for singing idle songs, who among the readers of Amos can
cast a stone? Has karaoke suddenly become a sin, as well as a
social disease?6 Drinking wine out of bowls instead of cups does
4. Oh yes, say Andersen and Freedman (F.I. Andersen and

D.N. Freedman, Amos: A New Translation with Introduction and
Commentary [Anchor Bible, 24A; New York: Doubleday, 1989], p. 562).
"The details of the menu supplied by v 4b indicate the unconscionable
extravagance of the feast... The sumptuous provision of beef and lamb,
and young and tender animals as well, points to eating on a scale far
beyond the means of the ordinary worker or farmer.' But are we to read a
'menu' in the reference to 'lambs from the flock' and 'calves from the
stall*? Can we even say that Amos means that both are eaten at the
same feast? In any case, would it be 'unconscionable extravagance' to
have two kinds of meat served at the one banquet? How many uncon-
scionably extravagant restaurants have Andersen and Freedman eaten
in, I wonder, and shall we say that if Andersen orders lamb and Freedman
veal that their 'excessive behavior* is 'its own condemnation' (cf. p. 563)?
And, incidentally, exactly how many items are on this 'menu' anyway?
Either it is *beef and lamb' or it is 'young and tender animals', but it is not
'young and tender animals as well'. And is there something reprehensible
in eating lamb rather than mutton, Wienerschnitzel rather than
Hungarian goulash? Or is it perhaps that the reference to 'young and
tender* animals—whom we all feel sensitive about—is nothing more than
a rhetorical ploy to make the unsuspicious reader take sides uncritically
with the prophet against his opponents?
5. The cryptic remark of Hammershaimb, however, gives pause for
thought (Erling Hammershaimb, The Book of Amos: A Commentary
[trans. J. Sturdy; Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1970], p. 100). 'It hurts the
feelings of the shepherd of Tekoa that good animals are used for feasts of
this sort', he says, and the reader wonders whether Amos perhaps thinks
the rich should serve diseased animals for dinner, or whether he is against
them having opulent feasts but would find no fault with, shall we say,
humble feasts—or whether, perhaps, the 'shepherd of Tekoa' entertains
tender vegetarian feelings toward his charges.
6. The commentators think that the phrase 'like David' is an
inauthentic addition to the text; but they would say that, wouldn't they,
admittedly sound greedy, and anointing yourself with the
finest (and presumably most expensive) oil rather than bargain
basement value-for-money oil is certainly self-indulgent. But
how serious is self-indulgence? Is it a crime? Is it a sin that
deserves a sentence of deportation? Does being wealthy and
conspicuously consuming renewable natural resources (wine,
oil, mutton and elephant tusks) put you in line for exile, by
any reasonable standards? What are the rich supposed to
have been doing? If expensive oil is on sale in the market and
you have the money in your pocket to buy it, where is the sin?
Ah well, say the commentators, it's more serious than that.
The prophetic criticism is that these people have been indulging
themselves and at the same time not feeling any pain at the
ruin of their people (6.7). So, says the metacommentator, if
they had been worried about the fate of the nation, it would
have been all right for them to be self-indulgent? Well, no, not
quite. Actually, they are being hit on both counts. Anyway,
says the metacommentator, how does the prophet know that
they do not feel pain about their nation? He is presumably not
invited to their parties—surely he wouldn't have the nerve to
complain about the extravagance if he were—so how does he
know what they feel and don't feel? Ah well, it's obvious that
if they felt any pain they wouldn't be having parties. Is it? If
Rome really is burning, what else is there left to do except
fiddle?
Would it perhaps be just as true to say, Amos hates the rich
because he is not one of them? If he were richer, he would be
using more expensive aftershave himself. It's easy to condemn
other people's lifestyle and to blame the ills of society on them.
But the truth about political and economic disaster and well-
being is probably far too complex to be explained by the
behaviour of individuals. The fate of nations is determined
much more by structural matters, the operation of markets,
demographic changes, disease, war and chance. To be sure,
the personal behaviour of other people is not a negligible
factor in everyday life; we would all like our fellow citizens to
behave better, and we know we would feel less envy and less
because otherwise it would be altogether too hard to say what was wrong
with it.
fear if they were all more like us. But if you are a little coun-
try being targeted for annexation by a big one, as Israel was
by Assyria, the highmindedness and moral sensitivity of the
average citizen are not going to make a lot of difference.
In short, it would be uncritical of us to accept Amos's analy-
sis of his society, to simply buy the ideology of the text.
Somehow we need to distance ourselves from the prophetic
voice, and recognize that the prophet's is only one voice in his
community. The prophet, and the text, have a corner to fight,
a position to uphold, and we for our part need to identify that
position, and to relativize it, not so as to discard it but only so
as to give it its proper due. But, hardly surprisingly, most of
the books about Amos simply take Amos's point of view for
granted. Amos is right, his opponents are wrong; Amos is fair;
Amos is accurate; Amos is immensely perceptive; Amos is
inspired.7
7. Here is a striking example of commentators' incapacity to distin-

guish between the text and themselves. Andersen and Freedman (Amos,
pp. 88-97) have a section on The God of Israel in the Book of Amos'. It
opens by saying, 'Our purpose is to present Amos' picture of the deity, not
ours, and to keep it within the thought world of the ancient Near East and
the Bible rather than to translate it into contemporary theological or
philosophical language' (p. 88). That sounds scholarly and objective enough.
But the section concludes by saying: 'What it finally comes down to is the
nature of the God of the Bible, the person with whom the prophet must
deal (and vice versa) and the person around whom everything turns.
When all of the superlatives have been exhausted and when all of the
authority or majesty have been accorded and the recognition given to the
one incomparable deity who stands uniquely alone and against everything
that is perishable, vulnerable, corruptible, and the rest, he nevertheless
remains a person. That is the fundamental and ultimate category in the
Bible, as without it nothing else matters...Once it is agreed that this
God—creator and sustainer of heaven and earth, sole and unique—is the
God of the Bible and Israel and Amos and the rest of us, then we may
draw closer and ask him who he is, what he is like, and how things run in
this world' (p. 97). By this point, plainly, we readers are not reading any
more about Amos and the ancient world, for Amos had no Bible and thus
no God of the Bible. Nor are we reading about Amos's God when we read
that God is 'against everything that is perishable, vulnerable, corruptible'
—for are those terms not true of humanity, and is Amos's God 'against'
humanity in general? And when, at the end, we start to read about what
In order to practise metacommentary, we need to do some
close reading of commentaries. Here is my first exhibit:
In eighth-century Israel the rich got richer and the poor got
poorer... Amos sketches the well-being enjoyed by the upper
classes in the capital cities, the splendid society that was built
upon the misery of the weak and poor... Expensive furniture,
indolent ease, succulent food, the sound of music, and extra-
vagant indulgence—so the affluent in Samaria live. Every item
represents a luxurious sophistication that had been possible in
earlier times only for royalty, and remained a world apart from
the life in the villages. The hollowness of it all only becomes
apparent in 6c where this heedless hedonism is thrown into
relief against the 'ruin of Joseph' from which it is completely
insulated.8
Such a rich text repays close reading.
In eighth-century Israel the rich got richer and the poor got
poorer.9
If it is true that the rich got richer, can we be sure that the
poor got poorer? The gap between rich and poor can widen
even while everyone's standard of living is improving. What
about those who were neither rich nor poor (? the majority).
And in any case, how can we possibly know whether the
poverty portrayed in Amos was widespread; how can we know
whether the rich were in some way responsible for the poverty
of the poor or whether there was some structural cause, which
was really no one individual's fault, for the poverty of a
minority?
Amos sketches the well-being enjoyed by the upper classes in

the capital cities, the splendid society that was built upon the
misery of the weak and poor.10
'Splendid' is ironic, is it not? It is not an objective scholarly
description, is it? It is actually representing Amos's (ironic)
is 'agreed' and told that 'we' may 'draw closer and ask him who he is'
(how?), we can feel sure that the authors' trumpeted scholarly interests in
the ancient world have been submerged by their own ideological beliefs.
8. Mays, Amos, pp. 114, 116.
9. Mays, Amos, p. 114.
10. Mays, Amos, p. 114.
point of view in the guise of a scholarly description, is it not?
And does the author literally mean, *built upon the misery of
the weak'? It is no doubt true enough that in a competitive
and entrepreneurial society the weakest go to the wall if there
are no programmes for social care; but we cannot simply
assume that a prosperous society owes its prosperity to the
deprivation of its poor.11 You couldn't say that about modern
Switzerland, for example. Should not biblical commentators
have to do a course in economics before they deliver them-
selves of opinions about Israelite society that they proffer in
their own voice? Certainly, they shouldn't be allowed to parrot
the prophets and pretend they are doing scholarly analysis.
Expensive furniture, indolent ease, succulent food, the sound

of music, and extravagant indulgence—so the affluent in
Samaria live. Every item represents a luxurious sophisticatio
that had been possible in earlier times only for royalty, and
remained a world apart from the life in the villages. The
hollowness of it all only becomes apparent in 6c where this
heedless hedonism is thrown into relief against the 'ruin of
Joseph' from which it is completely insulated.12
What authority has the commentator to take this high moral
tone? Would he care to compare his own living standards in,
let's say, Richmond, Virginia, with those of the affluent in
Samaria of the eighth century BCE? Why does he seem to
sneer at the spread of wealth and sophistication from the
court to a wider section of the populace? Why does he not
approve, as a loyal American, of the democratization of privi-
lege that his text attests? Why does he suggest that if the
villages cannot have cable TV no one else should? And what
right has he to talk of 'heedless hedonism' when he himself, if
he is anything like most of us academics, has probably never
contributed to the gross national product, having devoted
11. Mays actually says that The economic base of such luxury is
violence... against the poor* (p. 117). What economic theory, we suddenly
wonder, does Mays subscribe to? Can it be perhaps that he is a Marxist?
Or is this not a serious economic and political remark, but only preacher's
rhetoric?
12. Mays, Amos, p. 116.
himself to the selfish pursuit of non-practical knowledge, and
being parasitic, like most scholars, upon the wealth-creating
sectors of the community for his own bread and butter?
And here is my second exhibit:

The prophet brutally smashes the attraction of these banquets
of the chosen few in society which go on long into the night, by a
mournful hoy ['woe*]. He disturbs the fastidious and dubious
atmosphere of these ceremonies where the other man's fate is
completely disregarded...There are some who profit at the
expense of the community; they enjoy life while the rest weep in
misery. Amos does not desire a prosperity founded on
oppression. That is why this fastidious set will be deported and
this refined but rotten society will vanish away.13
From whose point of view does Amos 'brutally smash the
attraction' of these banquets? Not that of the readers, pre-
sumably, since they will not be very attracted to a party
where everyone has long since gone home. It will be that of
the partygoers themselves; Amos thinks the national situation
too serious for people to be enjoying themselves. And so,
apparently, does the commentator. Without thinking, without
questioning, he assumes that if Amos says it, it must be right.
And what is more, it must be effective. So if Amos stands out-
side the window and shouts hoy, 'woe' (remember, he hasn't
been invited to the party), everyone inside finds the party
entirely spoiled, its attraction smashed and its fastidious
atmosphere fatally disturbed. Really?
Amos doesn't desire a prosperity founded on oppression,
says the commentator, no doubt quite correctly. But he omits
to mention that neither do the wealthy of Samaria, in all
probability. No one except the most depraved and cynical
people walk around boasting about founding their prosperity
on oppression. So the difference between Amos and those he
opposes is not that he is evidently in the right and they are
evidently in the wrong; it is a difference in conviction about
what is and is not fair dealing. Perhaps Amos is in the right,
13. R. Martin-Achard, A Commentary on the Book of Amos, in

R. Martin-Achard and S. Paul Re'emi, God's People in Crisis (International
Theological Commentary; Edinburgh: Handsel Press, 1984), pp. 48,49.
but perhaps he is not. All I am saying is that to jump to the
conclusion that he is in the right is not a scholarly procedure;
it is simply the reflex of an uncritical religious belief that
assumes that what a prophet in the Bible says must be the
truth. And yet that very Bible gives us plenty of evidence
about the existence of false prophets in ancient Israel, and
about the capacity for error even of those who are genuine.
2. Commentators and the Religious Ideology of Amos

Amos, or the book of Amos, is full of religious ideology (or
theology, as we tend to call it when we are not being critical
but giving our implicit assent to it). The question the meta-
commentator asks is whether the commentators on Amos
recognize ideology when they see it. Here are some ideological
statements you find in the book and in the commentaries.
a. The Prophetic Sense of Vocation

The book of Amos is founded on the belief that Amos the
prophet had actually been spoken to by God. This is what he
claims when he says, Thus says Yahweh'. It is an amazing
claim, and a shocking one. Most of our acquaintances, we
ought to recall, think that people who claim to hear voices
from the sky should be locked up. Commentators are hardy
souls, however, not easily alarmed, and generous of spirit.
How else to explain the fact that almost every textbook on
Amos accepts Amos's claim, the book's ideology?
Here is the commentary of that learned German, Hans
Walter Wolff. Under the heading The Man Amos' he tells us,
with due scholarly caution:
When Amos was born and when he died, we do not know. How
old he was at the time of his appearance around 760 BC remains
hidden from us...Amos was not a native of the northern
kingdom, but a Judean come from Tekoa... As a sheep breeder
(and as such to be distinguished clearly from a lowly shepherd)
he was probably not exactly poor.14
14. Hans Walter Wolff, Joel and Amos: A Commentary on the Books of
the Prophets Joel and Amos (Henneneia; Philadelphia: Fortress Press,
1977), p. 90.
'Probably not exactly'; it is the very quintessence of scholarly
reserve. But then, in the very next paragraph, scholarship is
thrown to the winds and pious statements of belief in the
intangible and unknowable are paraded as if they belonged to
the same world of discourse:
It was the hand of Yahweh which uprooted him temporarily
from his familiar realm and made him break the silence of the
wise in evil times (5.13). Whenever he reveals the basis for his
prophetic appearance, he points exclusively to Yahweh's
irresistible insistence.. .To those who attribute his appearance
to his own brazen self-will, he directs the question whether then
terror at the sudden roar of a lion could be self-willed; it is
Yahweh's address that has irresistibly impelled him to make
proclamation (3.8)...[B]ecause he has been constrained by
Yahweh to proclaim his judgment, Amos also exposes Israel's
guilt as reason for this judgment.15
So there is a God, and his name is Yahweh, and Yahweh did
indeed speak to Amos, just as Amos claims, and I am telling
you this with all my authority as a German professor.16 There
were those, no doubt, in Amos's own time who 'attributed his
appearance to his own brazen self-will'—though the text, if I
read it rightly, tells us only of those who demanded that Amos
go home and stop prophesying at Bethel; whether they
implied that it was not God who brought Amos to Bethel but
Amos's own self-will is rather harder to determine. Anyway,
says Wolff, Amos has the better of that exchange because he
can whip out the lines, The lion has roared; who will not fear?
The Lord GOD has spoken; who can but prophesy?' (3.8).
Somehow that proves that Amos is in the right, that he has
been sent by God, that there is a God, and all the rest of it.
15. Wolff, Joel and Amos, p. 91.

16. American professors are no different, of course. Says Mays, opening
his section on 'The Message' of Amos: 'Amos was Yahweh's messenger to
Israel' (Amos, p. 6)—which six words, being interpreted, mean, Yes, there
is a Yahweh, and yes, Amos is his authentic prophet and Amaziah is a
fraud; I know, and I am telling you. It has all the critical finesse and
scholarly sobriety of the muezzin's call to prayer: There is no god but God
and Muhammad is the prophet of God. There is of course nothing wrong
about the muezzin's claim, especially if you are a believer (I don't dis-
believe it myself, actually); it's just that it's not critical scholarship.
And any modern readers, by the same token, who attribute

Amos's appearance at Bethel to his own brazen self-will—or
even say, more modestly, that they suppose Amos just thought
it was a good idea to go to Bethel and say what he believed—
they too stand condemned by the prophet himself. Amos's
rhetorical question is unanswerable. No matter that it is only
a claim. No matter that you can't prove the validity of one
claim by making another. Amos has been impelled by God, he
has been constrained by Yahweh; this is historical fact. No, we
do not know when he was born, and no, we cannot be sure
whether he was rich or poor, but yes, we do know he was sent
by God and that he was in the right and Amaziah was in the
wrong.
b. Inner-Religious Conflict
There's another thing, the matter of Amaziah. I don't mind
admitting that my own antipodean sympathies and prejudices
every time are with the rough-hewn prophet from down
under by comparison with the smooth authoritarian toady,
the priest Amaziah. But I can't help thinking, But this
Amaziah wasn't an atheist, he wasn't a pagan, he wasn't an
irreligious man. He worshipped the same God as Amos, and
he and Amos believed in almost all the same things. From my
perspective, from the perspective of an Assyrian, from the
perspective of almost anyone who is not caught up in the
political and religious situation of the eighth century BCE, the
conflict between them was no more than a minor sectarian
dispute. And since we only have Amos's side of it—and that,
moreover, is couched in the colourful rhetoric of poetry—how
can we ever decide where right and wrong lay? and what, for
that matter, would right and wrong in matters of this kind
actually be?
c. Knowledge versus Belief

Let me try a rather more subtle example, this time from the
Danish scholar Erling Hammershaimb. The reader is invited
to detect the point at which the scholarship stops and the
religious assumptions begin:
Amos not only knows the land of Israel...; he is also familiar
with his people's history and the accounts of Yahweh's acts of
kindness to the people. For him Yahweh is the creator God, who
has led the people out of Egypt and preserved them during the
forty years of wandering in the wilderness, and then defeated the
Amorites in the land of Canaan, so that Israel could dwell there
(2.9ff.; 9.7). He knows too that Yahweh has continuously cared
for the spiritual well-being of the people, and sent prophets to
speak to the people and remind them of his commandments
(2.11). Amos does not therefore regard himself as proclaiming
something completely new...1?
Amos is familiar with his people's history—that is an uncontro-
versial inference from the text of the book itself (provided, of
course, that we leave aside the trifling matter of whether the
author of the book is actually the prophet Amos). He knows
the 'accounts' of the national god's deeds; no problem there.
'For him' Yahweh is this and that—which is the scholarly way
of representing the views of others without at the same time
committing oneself to them. But when we read, 'He knows too
that Yahweh has continuously cared for...his people', we are
bound to ask, 'Knows, does he?' How can he know something
that is not a fact? He knows the tradition that Yahweh has
cared for his people, but Hammershaimb cannot say that Amos
Tmows' it unless Hammershaimb believes it. He cannot mean
that Amos knows it but Amos might be wrong; we don't say
someone *knows' it is four o'clock if we ourselves believe it is
six. Hammershaimb, though he hasn't done anything very
wicked, has let his guard slip nevertheless. He persuaded us
at the beginning of the paragraph that he was speaking purely
as an 'objective' scholar, dispassionately describing the views
of Amos, but by the third sentence he let us see that in fact he
was not a disinterested observer of Amos at all, but an adher-
ent and promoter of Amos's theological ideas. Any reader who
thinks that such an analysis of the scholar's religious commit-
ment is hypercritical might like to consider how the sentences
would sound if we substituted Zeus for Yahweh, and, shall we
say, Aeschylus for Amos. For Aeschylus, Zeus is the creator.
Fine, we say. He knows too that Zeus has continuously
17. Hammershaimb, Amos, p. 12.

sustained the Greek people. Has he indeed?, we cannot help
asking.
d. The Contrast between 'True' and 'False' Prophets

Take another example, the matter of the terms in which the
contrast between Amos and the 'professional prophets' is cast.
In insisting he is not a prophet nor a prophet's son, Amos,
says Hammershaimb, 'means that he is not a prophet by pro-
fession, does not belong to a band of prophets, and has not
uttered his prophecies for financial gain like the professional
prophets'.18 Does this mean that Amos claims that the
'professional prophets' utter their prophecies for financial
gain, or that Hammershaimb believes that the 'professional
prophets' did so? Given that sentence alone, it is hard to tell.
Certainly, when we read that 'Amaziah himself forbids Amos
to prophesy in the Northern Kingdom, and orders him out, as
being a professional prophet who had appeared there for the
sake of gain',19 we have no doubt that the point of view being
reported is that of Amaziah and not of the modern critic. But
when we read, a few pages on, that Amos 'wishes to protest at
being included in the same class as the professional prophets,
whose preaching was not dictated by Yahweh, but by the
wish to earn money',20 the relative clause beginning 'whose
preaching' can only be taken as the words of the scholar.21 It

21. It is the comma after 'professional prophets' that proves it: if there
had been no comma, the 'whose preaching* clause could be understood as
denning the professional prophets, and in that case could be representing
the perspective of Amos; but the comma turns the clause into a descrip-
tive clause, which can only represent the perspective of Hammerschaimb.
The distinction is the same as that between 'that', which introduces a
denning clause, and 'which', which introduces a descriptive clause. If it is
protested that the comma may have been introduced by the translator, I
offer my apologies to Hammerschaimb, and fasten the blame on the
translator. And if is protested that I am making a lot of fuss about a
comma, I will reply that, in this case, on that comma hangs the difference
between giving the impression that one is uncritically adopting the
opinions of Amos or being a critical scholar. Real critical scholars will go
is the scholar who advances the view that the prophets Amos
dissociates himself from are false prophets ('not dictated by
Yahweh'), and not even sincerely mistaken, but corrupt, and
motivated only by the desire for money. Amos himself (the
character Amos in the text, I mean) never says that other pro-
phets are false prophets, and never hints that the preaching
of prophets and the sons of prophets is dictated by the wish to
earn money. He only says that he is not a 'professional'
prophet.22 As far as we know, he may have nothing against
professional prophets; the sum and substance of his reply to
Amaziah might well be simply his affirmation of the genuine-
ness of his own calling. And we too might do well to think
twice before assuming that 'professional' prophets are in the
business of prophesying just for the money; Hammershaimb
was a professional biblical scholar, but we wouldn't dream of
saying that he was motivated by the wish to earn money.
e. Punishment
It is an essential element in the text's ideology that sin should
be punished. The book opens with a powerful indictment of the
nations that surround Israel for their crimes, and a repeated
threat of punishment. As each nation comes into focus, the
prophetic message is: 'For three transgressions of X and for
four, I will not turn away the punishment thereof (e.g. 1.3).23
Any 'departure' from God is visited with punishment, as in
to any lengths to prevent a comma cheating them of their reputation.

22. He may even be saying that he was not a professional prophet, but
he is now. If the LORD has taken him from following the flock, he is not
being a shepherd any longer, is he? And if he is not earning a living from
shepherding, is he perhaps earning it from prophesying?
But where does the idea of 'professional prophet' come from,
anyway? Does nabi mean that? Was Ezekiel, who was a professional
priest, also a professional prophet? And in any case, is Amaziah implying
that Amos is prophesying for the sake of income, and is he urging Amos
to earn his living from prophesying elsewhere, or does ceat bread' mean
what it means everywhere else, 'eat', not 'earn'? In sum, has the whole
idea of'gain' perhaps been entirely imported into the text?
23. Actually, the Hebrew text does not have a word for 'punishment',
but it is obvious—from the ideology of the book as a whole, really—that it
can only be punishment that is inevitable after a crime.
the catalogue of disasters in ch. 4 (famine and plague and
war) that failed to make Israel 'return' to the Lord. And the
repeated 'therefore' is a further sign of the prophetic ideology;
the familiar pattern is: an account of a sin, followed by the
'therefore' that introduces the punishment. The denunciation
of the rich that we have already looked at, *Woe to those who
lie on beds of ivory', likewise comes to a conclusion with such a
'therefore': 'Therefore they shall be the first of those to go into
exile' (6.7). And to the sin of Amaziah in forbidding Amos to
prophesy, there is the same 'therefore' of punishment:
'Therefore thus says the LORD, Your wife shall be a prostitute
in the city...' (7.17)—which Amos, interestingly enough, thinks
of as a punishment of him.
What do the commentators make of this ideology? They
never discuss it; they only repeat it. They agree with Amos
that both Israel and the surrounding nations deserve to be
punished, and that such punishment should be capital. Here,
for example, is John Bright:
Amos's message was a devastating attack on the social evils of
the day, particularly on the heartlessness and dishonesty with
which the rich had ground down the poor..., but also on the
immorality and the careless pursuit of luxury which had sapped
the national character—all of which he viewed as sins that
Yahweh would surely punish.24
The metacommentator is bound to ask whether modern
scholars are aware of what they are doing. They are adopting
the view, and presenting it as their own, that the best way, or
perhaps the only way, of dealing with heartlessness, dis-
honesty, immorality and luxury (to adopt Bright's terms) is to
wipe the offenders out of existence. The metacommentator
observes (but is not surprised) how, when it is the deity who is
punishing, highminded commentators who would not harm a
fly themselves suddenly join the hanging and flogging
brigade and think no punishment too severe.
Nor do the commentators seem to notice the conflict between
the apparent justice of punishing those who deserve it and the
24. J. Bright, A History of Israel (London: SCM Press, 2nd edn, 1972),
p. 259.
obvious injustice of punishing those who do not. Mays, for
example, can write that the 'prophecy of Amos can be heard
as Yahweh's response to their [the poor's] cry, for the weak
and poor are the special objects of Yahweh's compassion and
concern';25 but at the same time he can say that 'the consis-
tent burden of his [Amos's] oracles is to announce the disaster
that will fulfil Yahweh's decree of an end for his people'.26 He
doesn't seem to notice that Yahweh can't be very compas-
sionate to the poor if he intends them to be carried into exile
because of the wrongdoing of their leaders, or that the
prophet's demand for justice does not seem to apply to the
deity.27
These commentators surely know that they have many
options open to them when they themselves are wronged by
someone else, and that inflicting injury on others is either a
raw instinctive impulse or else a cruel cold-blooded decision
that they come to at the end of their tether, feel guilty about,
but try to justify nevertheless on some rational grounds. But
once they start commentating on Amos they accede to Amos's
simple moral defeatism. Not one of them has the courage—or
the intellectual capacity—to extract himself (they are all
males) from the ideology of the text and to pronounce a moral
27. Here is a typical commentatorial utterance on the subject: The
conception of Yahweh which Amos entertains is that of a god of justice...
[Amos] makes the idea the very centre of his conception of God...
Righteousness being a vital element in Yahweh's character, he not only
will demand it in those who profess to be his followers, but will also enforce
the demand... It is a demand for justice, which, in its simplest and most
natural form, includes honesty, integrity, purity, and humanity... It
demands the utmost consideration of the poor and weak,—moral justice'
(W.R. Harper, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Amos and Hosea
[ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1905], pp. cxvii-cxviii, cxx). It simply does
not occur to this commentator to ask whether in Amos's conception this
moral standard applies to Yahweh, and whether the threats of famine,
fire, exile and the like can be accommodated with 'the utmost considera-
tion of the poor and weak'. At least Harper does not try to argue that the
punishments are 'a token and proof of divine concern and commitment'
(Andersen and Freedman, Amos, p. 383), a disingenuous claim if ever
there was one.
judgment upon the prophecy. To be sure, the future was very
much as the prophecy says—whether it predicted it or wrote it
up in hindsight. Things were awful, for rich and poor alike.
But it is even more awful to ascribe the destruction of a state
and the forceable deportation of its citizens to an avenging
God. If that is how a believer finds himself or herself impelled
to conclude, that it is a terrible thing to fall into the hands of
the living God, the metacommentator can respect that. But to
affirm it casually, to pretend that it is unproblematic—that is
not scholarly, it is not even human.
Must the metacommentator be so waspish?, readers are likely

to be asking themselves. Does everything have to become so
personal, and is it truly scholarly to question the motives and
interests of our colleagues, as I have been doing throughout
this paper?
The answer is yes. It must be, once we admit that we are
not all engaged in some objective quest for determinate
meanings, and that our ideologies, our locations, our interests
and our personalities determine our scholarship—and separate
us from one another.28 Strip away the bonhomie that passes
for scholarly interchange in the corridors of the international
congresses, and we find that there is a lot we don't like, don't
28. I may be permitted to refer to some recent work of my own where

the theme of this sentence is further developed, in various directions and
in various settings: 'God in the Pentateuch', in Studies in Old Testament
Theology: Historical and Contemporary Images of God and God's People
(Festschrift for David L. Hubbard; ed. Robert L. Hubbard, Jr, Robert
K. Johnston and Robert P. Meye; Dallas: Word Books, 1992), pp. 79-98;
'Haggai's Temple, Constructed, Deconstructed and Reconstructed', in
Second Temple Studies (ed. Tamara C. Eskenazi and Kent H. Richards;
JSOTSup, 117; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1993), and in SJOT (1993);
'Possibilities and Priorities in Biblical Interpretation in an International
Perspective', Biblical Interpretation 1 (1993), pp. 67-87; 'A World Founded
on Water (Psalm 24): Reader Response, Deconstruction and Bespoke
Interpretation', in The New Literary Criticism and the Hebrew Bible (ed. J.
Cheryl Exum and David J.A. Clines; JSOTSup, 143; Sheffield: JSOT
Press, 1993); 'The Ten Commandments, Reading from Left to Right', in
David J.A. Clines, Interested Parties: The Ideology of Writers and Readers
of the Old Testament (forthcoming).
approve of, and will not stand for, in our colleagues, a lot that
has yet to be brought into the light, taken the measure of,
and fought over. Managing personal conflict within the
academy may well be the new skill, harder still than
Assyriology or deconstruction, that scholars will need to
acquire in this decade.29
29. Examples of the 'new brutality', as we might term it, in biblical

scholarship, may be found in the recent pages of the Journal of Biblical
Literature; witness the paper of Ben F. Meyer against E.P. Sanders ('A
Caricature of Joachim Jeremias and his Scholarly Work', JBL 110a
[1991], pp. 451-62), and that of Meir Sternberg against Danna Fewell and
David Gunn ('Biblical Poetics and Sexual Poetics: From Reading to
Counter-Reading', JBL 111 [1992], pp. 463-88). I neither welcome it nor
deplore it; the tensions that come to the surface in such acerbic reviews
are already in existence, and no good can come of suppressing them.
WISDOM LITERATURE: RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT
James L. Crenshaw
The publication of the volume entitled The Sage in Israel and

the Ancient Near East1 and the updated reprint of La sagesse
de I'Ancien Testament2 offer an occasion to reflect on the status
of research in wisdom literature.3 Anyone remotely familiar
1. John G. Gammie and Leo G. Perdue (eds.), The Sage in Israel and
the Ancient Near East (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1990). The
imprecise notion of wisdom characterizing many essays in this massive
work detracts from its value and threatens to retard the progress of
research in this area. Part of the problem derives from the impossible
design: the underlying assumption that sapiential influence has permeated
the entire Hebrew Bible. A few scholars struggled valiantly to carry out
their assigned task, especially in section IV; others approach the
ludicrous, e.g. Loren R. Mack-Fisher's concluding remarks about what
constitutes a sage; and still others put forth highly dubious interpreta-
tions of the facts, e.g. Walter Brueggemann's hypothetical construct
drawn from sociology, Leo Perdue's identification of Ezra as a sage (!) and
John Gammie's wide-ranging inclusivism.
2. Maurice Gilbert (ed.), La sagesse de I'Ancien Testament (BETL, 51;
Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1990). In addition to the authors'
updating of their articles and bibliography, the editor has written a brief
survey of wisdom research during the decade from 1979 to 1989. He
treats (1) introductions and collected works, (2) texts, (3) ancient
commentaries, (4) modern commentaries, (5) studies on intertextual
relations, and (6) studies devoted to the individual wisdom books.
3. My own assessment of the past and future of sapiential studies
was completed before I read Glaus Westermann's Forschungsgeschichte
zur Weisheitsliteratur 1950-1990 (Abhandlungen zur Theologie, 71;
Stuttgart: Calwer Verlag, 1991). His focus on the social locus of wisdom
and its literary form corresponds to my own isolation of social world and
language of discourse as the central issues under discussion in recent
publications, although we articulate the matter somewhat differently. For
him, the fundamental questions are: 'Did Israelite sages function within
the family or in a professional setting such as school or court?' Were the
earliest proverbial sayings oral or written?' I share his conviction that the
with the subject must surely be amazed at the sheer quantity
of publications, all the more surprising because of earlier
neglect.4 Maurice Gilbert's introduction to La sagesse de
I'Ancien Testament5 catalogues this vigorous activity over the
past decade, so I shall restrict my remarks to analyzing funda-
mental issues underlying much of the published research.
Mirroring the interpretation of the Hebrew Bible in general,
a spate of publications about ancient wisdom addresses two
questions: (1) did Israel's sages constitute a professional class,6
oldest biblical aphorisms derive from the family and were transmitted
orally, and I also have serious doubts about the prominent role attributed
to wisdom of the clan by Hans Walter Wolff and others. Incidentally,
Westennann is mistaken that his essay, Weisheit im Sprichwort', was
ignored for many years. I certainly cited it soon after its publication.
Holger Delkurt's analysis of the fundamental issues underlying
sapiential scholarship ('Grundprobleme alttestamentlicher Weisheit', VF
36 [1991], pp. 38-71) is devoted to the following topics: (1) the definition of
wisdom; (2) the place of wisdom; (3) prophecy and wisdom; (4) wisdom as
a theology of creation; (5) speech about God in Proverbs; (6) specific
themes such as 'the appropriate moment for speech and silence', 'the
poor', and fate'; (7) Qoheleth.
4. One could hardly find a better example of interpretive bias, the
point made so often today by practitioners of literary interpretation. The
imperialism of a particular view of theology excluded wisdom literature
from consideration. Dissatisfaction with salvation history coincided with
revived interest in Israel's wisdom, which had earlier captured the imagi-
nation after its intimate connection with Egyptian wisdom literature was
recognized.
5. He builds on the survey of S. Pie i Ninot, 'La literature sapiencial
biblica: Una actualidad bibliografica creciente', Actualidad Bibliogrdfica
44 (1985), pp. 202-11 and 46 (1986), pp. 163-74. To this may be added
the long section by J. Vilchez Lindez in Sapienciales. I. Proverbios (Madrid:
Editiones Christiandad, 1984), pp. 39-92, preceded by L. Alonso SchokePs
analysis (pp. 17-37).
[BZAW, 135; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1974]) has posed the most vigorous
challenge to the dominant view, although he appears to moderate his
opinion in The Sage in the Israelite Royal Court', in The Sage in Israel and
the Ancient Near East, p. 139 ('It is possible, on the other hand, that some
parts of Proverbs, especially parts of chaps. 1-9 and 22.17-24.22, were
composed as "text books" for young pupils—though not necessarily at a
royal scribal school').
CRENSHAW Wisdom Literature: Retrospect & Prospect 163
and (2) what characterizes their language of discourse?7 In
other words, what was the social world of the sages and how
did they express themselves? Although sociological and
literary interests have prevailed, occasional voices have echoed
earlier conceptual analyses, particularly about the sages' idea
of God.8
1. The Social World of the Sages

As R. Norman Whybray's recent essay on this topic shows,9 no
one has succeeded in positioning the sages in any distinct
social group. To be sure, scholars use phrases like 'elite class',
'intellectuals', 'urban owners of landed estates', 'courtiers' and
*professional counselors or teachers'.10 In addition, interpreters
usually acknowledge an early period when wisdom's origin
and transmission occurred within family units11 and a late
7. Walter Biihlmann (Vom rechten Reden und Schweigen [OBO, 12;
Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1976]) shows how self-consciously
the ancient sages reflected on speech and its absence.
8. Johannes Fichtner's synthesis of ancient wisdom literature, Das
altorientalische Weisheit in ihrer israelitisch-jildischen Auspragung
(BZAW, 62; Giessen: A. Topelmann, 1933), includes a lengthy section on
the sages' understanding of God (pp. 97-123).
9. R.N. Whybray, The Social World of the Wisdom Writers', in The
World of Ancient Israel (ed. R.E. Clements; Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1989), pp. 227-50. Whybray characterizes the dilemma
facing contemporary scholars in this way: (1) Why would royal scribes,
even under foreign influence, have ignored the folk wisdom in Israel
covering the same topics? (2) Yet the literary quality and clear depen-
dence on foreign models of most of the aphorisms in Proverbs cannot be
denied. (3) If education was actually widespread, why limit the authorship
of wisdom literature to professional sages (pp. 234-35)?
10. The book of Job is particularly problematic as a source for
discerning the status of sages, as Whybray recognizes. Why are Job's
three friends not identified as members of a professional class of the wise
(The Social World of the Wisdom Writers', p. 240)? Moreover, why do the
proverbial collections primarily address adults instead of schoolboys?
11. Claus Westermann (Wurzeln der Weisheit [Gottingen: Vandenhoeck
& Ruprecht, 1990]) argues forcefully for the prominence of the family in
early wisdom instruction. He notes the concentration on topics of central
interest to rural populations of simple people (p. 75) and their focus on the
'private' life (p. 43). Nevertheless, he rejects the hypothesis of clan
epoch during which teachers administered their own private
schools,12 with a possible intermediate stage associated with
the royal court.13 A noticeable lack of agreement stands out
above all else, and the imprecise dating of the wisdom corpus
complicates matters even more.14 Indeed, disagreement over
the limits of wisdom literature,15 reflected in the tendency in
some quarters to identify sapiential activity from Genesis
through Esther,16 bears witness to the mingling of various
groups in Israelite society.
Ancient Near Eastern parallels throw light on the phe-
wisdom (p. 35) and downplays the cult, asserting that address to God and
by God belongs to a wholly different realm of language (p. 142).
12. Ben Sira's allusion to a building devoted to instruction (51.23) is
ordinarily taken literally in contrast to the rhetoric attributed to and
descriptive of personified wisdom (Prov. 1.20-33; 8.1-36; 9.1-12; Sir. 24;
Wis. 6.12-16; cf. Isa. 55.1-3).
13. The strongest evidence for professional sages at the royal court,
the superscription in Prov. 25.1, seems to refer to transcriptional activity
(he'ttqti) rather than to literary composition.
14. The persistence of views that society in general has discarded only
exacerbates the difficulty of postulating even relative chronologies for the
several wisdom texts. The task becomes impossible when one takes into
account the present state of knowledge about Israel's religious pilgrimage,
e.g. the beginnings of personal piety, which Franz Josef Steiert (Die
Weisheit Israels—ein Fremdkorper im Alien Testament1? [Freiburger
Theologische Studien; Freiburg: Herder, 1990]), following J.Assmann
(Weisheit, Loyalismus, und Frommigkeit [Freiburg: Herder, 1979]), takes
as a decisive clue for understanding the wisdom corpus. Michael V. Fox
astutely comments: 'But he never comes to grips with the fact that
whatever their beliefs and assumptions, the Israelite sages never invoke
God's law, never reinforce their teachings by appealing to the promises or
demands of the covenant, and never draw upon the lessons of Israelite
history... Wisdom's avoidance of the particularities of Israelite law and
history is a noteworthy and apparently deliberate practice' (Review of
Steiert, Die Weisheit, inJBL 111 [1992], p. 135).
15. I am firmly convinced that the caveat offered in my article on
'Method in Determining Wisdom Influence upon "Historical" Literature'
(JBL 88 [1969], pp. 129-42) was well placed and that many who cite it
approvingly have not really heeded its warning.
16. Bonn Morgan (Wisdom in the Old Testament Traditions [Atlanta:
John Knox Press, 1981]) tries unsuccessfully to legitimate this hermeneu-
tical enterprise.
nomenon of professional sages,17 while at the same time
highlighting distinct differences between Israelite wisdom and
Egyptian or Mesopotamian wisdom.18 From the period of the
Old Kingdom learned counselors advised the Pharaoh and his
court; the New Kingdom witnessed a growing pietism among
the sages responsible for royal instruction and temple ritual,19
together with a democratizing of the teaching; and the Dem-
otic period saw a ruralization of sages and a growth of skep-
ticism,20 approaching fatalism. Over the years Mesopotamian
wisdom underwent comparable shifts, wisdom's primary locus
changing from the tablet house (edubba) to the exorcist's
17. Two articles by Ronald J. Williams (The Sage in Egyptian Litera-

ture', pp. 19-30, and The Function of the Sage in the Egyptian Royal
Court', pp. 95-98, in Gammie and Perdue [eds.], The Sage in Israel and the
Ancient Near East) update his earlier article, The Sages of Ancient Egypt
in the Light of Recent Scholarship', JAOS 101 (1981), pp. 1-19 (cf. also
Helmut Brunner, Altagyptische Weisheit [Zurich: Artemis, 1988], and
Miriam Lichtheim, Late Egyptian Wisdom Literature in the International
Context [Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1983]). The Mesopotamian
scene is treated by Rivkah Harris, The Female "Sage" in Mesopotamian
Literature (with an Appendix on Egypt)'; Samuel Noah Kramer, The
Sage in Sumerian Literature: A Composite Portrait'; Ronald F.G. Sweet,
The Sage in Akkadian Literature: A Philological Study* and The Sage in
Mesopotamian Palaces and Royal Courts', in The Sage in Israel and the
Ancient Near East, pp. 3-18, 31-44, 45-66, 99-108.
18. At least two things about Mesopotamian wisdom points to its
similarity with and difference from biblical wisdom respectively: (1) the
vigorous skeptical tradition in Ludlul, The Babylonian Theodicy and The
Dialogue between a Master and his Slave', (2) the centrality of magic. In
Egypt scribalism and royal courtiers achieved prominence never enjoyed
in Israel.
19. Lichtheim, Late Egyptian Wisdom Literature, rejects the claim that
late Demotic works such as Ankhskeshonky and Papyrus Insinger
represent a failure of intellectual nerve that takes refuge in piety, but the
conclusions of Hans Heinrich Schmid (Wesen und Geschichte der Weisheit
[BZAW, 101; Berlin: Tdpelmann, 1966]) cannot easily be set aside.
20. The first claim stands even if Lichtheim is correct that the sayings
in Ankhsheshonky are not overwhelmingly concerned about rural exis-
tence (Late Egyptian Wisdom Literature, p. 4), for they certainly differ
dramatically from earlier royal authorship or court instructions. The
second claim hardly excludes belief in a deity's benevolence, for its absence
fuels the skeptic's comments about fate.
place of activity,21 although some evidence also points to other
loci, e.g. Sumerian folk proverbs and Babylonian counsels to a
prince.22
As is well known, wisdom in Egypt and in Mesopotamia was
essentially bureaucratic.23 Instruction, primarily pragmatic,
sought to ensure success in the exercise of governmental
responsibilities. In the land along the Tigris and Euphrates
rivers, professional scribes zealously guarded their unique
skills with respect to the complex writing system and secret
magical lore, at the same time eroding interest in literature by
their very esotericism.24 Available evidence does not support
Gerhard von Rad's hypothesis,25 reiterated by Walter Bruegge-
mann,26 that intellectual bureaucratism took hold in Israel
during the Solomonic era. Only the eighth century comes close
to such complex organizational securing of royal interests.27
21. Kramer, The Sage in Sumerian Literature', p. 38, brings together

the two competing emphases, for he thinks exorcists studied in the tablet
house and learned from an ummia (cf. Sweet, The Sage in Akkadian
Literature', pp. 60-61).
22. Were folk proverbs held in less esteem than literary products of
professional sages, as Lichtheim thinks was true in Egypt (Late Egyptian
Wisdom Literature, p. 25)? Perhaps the answer depends on the audience,
whether an ordinary citizen or a trained scribe.
23. In this respect it contrasts sharply with biblical wisdom, which gives
almost no evidence of serving bureaucratic ends—unless its conservative
and anti-revolutionary ethic aimed at preserving the status quo.
24. A. Livingstone, Mystical and Mythological Explanatory Works of
Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1986).
25. G. von Rad, Wisdom in Israel (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1971).
His hypothesis about the sweeping away of pan-sacralism in a virtual
Enlightenment during Solomon's regime has little to recommend it and is
increasingly rejected.
26. The Social Significance of Solomon as a Patron of Wisdom', in
Gammie and Perdue (eds.), The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East,
pp. 117-32. Brueggemann's neat types have rhetorical appeal, but they
run roughshod over historical probabilities.
27. David W. Jamieson-Drake (Scribes and Schools in Monarchic
Judah:A Socio-Archaeological Approach [JSOTSup, 109; Sheffield: JSOT
Press, 1991]) has demonstrated the improbability that Solomon had the
sort of bureaucracy assumed by Brueggemann.
As for esoteric knowledge, the simple Hebrew alphabet
discouraged any moves to withhold literature from the people
at large, and magic played a less sanctioned role in Israelite
religion than in Egypt or Mesopotamia.28
The debate over literacy in ancient Israel has introduced
exciting new data into the discussion of the sages' social
world.29 Andre Lemaire eloquently promotes a complex system
of education during the monarchy embracing most cities in
Israel and extending to many remote villages. Drawing on
inscriptional data, he imagines the existence of schools as the
precondition for the biblical canon, for students needed texts.
Others have interpreted the data differently, seeing in them
decisive proof of illiteracy throughout the land (misspellings,
crude drawings, transpositions of letters). William V. Harris's
recent study of Ancient Literacy puts Lemaire's optimism
under a dark cloud,30 for, if literacy in classical Greece never
exceeded 10%, then one is entitled to ask how Israel ever
reached the high level of literacy that many, if not most,
interpreters assume. J. Baines's estimate that literacy in
Egypt rarely exceeded 1% is even more sobering.31
Stated simply, mass literacy, a recent phenomenon, is a direct
result of the invention of the printing press, of Protestantism's
emphasis on private reading of the Bible, of state and religious
funding of education, and of the industrial revolution, which
28. Various biblical allusions to magical practices among the populace

indicate that the official position regarding magic and divination did not
necessarily commend itself to ordinary citizens.
29. Andre Lemaire, The Sage in School and Temple', in Gammie and
Perdue (eds.), The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East, pp. 165-81,
argues for widespread schools in Israel from early times, but my
'Education in Ancient Israel', JBL 104 [1985], pp. 601-15, and Menahem
Haran, 'On the Diffusion of Literacy and Schools in Ancient Israel', in
VTSup 40 (Congress Volume, Jerusalem) (1988), pp. 81-95, take a much
more conservative view.
30. William V. Harris, Ancient Literacy (Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press, 1989).
31. J. Baines, 'Literacy and Ancient Egyptian Society1, Man NS (1983),
pp. 572-99. I am indebted to Rivkah Harris, 'The Female "Sage" in
Mesopotamian Literature', p. 15, for this reference.
made available tangible rewards for educated workers.32
Ancient Israel lacked these inducements to literacy, at the
same time possessing several hindrances to the mastering of
reading and writing. First, writing materials were either
cumbersome or prohibitively expensive. Secondly, acquiring
an education was not cost-effective, especially in an agri-
cultural economy where seasonal work determined one's daily
activity. Thirdly, nothing in the economy demanded a literate
populace, and participation in society at large depended on
one's oral skills. Fourthly, no patron of education assumed the
cost of private instruction, and one searches in vain for any
mention of philanthropic gifts to education comparable to
those in third-century Greece. Fifthly, members of crafts and
guilds requiring literacy of some sort undoubtedly kept
membership to a minimum, thus protecting their earning
power.
In short, neither a strong desire for literacy nor an oppor-
tunity to become literate existed in ancient Israel, with the
possible exception of a few guilds.33 In all likelihood, some
moral instruction took place in the family, probably in the
form of oral teaching.34 The overwhelming sense of oral
instruction persists into the third century, if by we'izzen (12.9)
Qoheleth's epilogist alludes to the teacher's manner of listen-
ing for insights worthy of dissemination.35 The legend about
the seven apkallus in Sumer and the claim that Marduk had
four ears at birth emphasize the importance of hearing, as
32. Harris, Ancient Literacy, p. 12.

33. Economic interests would have led to protectionism with respect to
the special knowledge by which guild members earned their wages.
Professional pride also encouraged exclusivism, sometimes reinforced by
magical rites as in metallurgy. Rivalry resulted from exclusivity, e.g. the
struggle for power within priestly circles.
34. The language of Deut. 6.4-9 mentions written signs within an over-
whelmingly oral instructional context, and even Prov. 1-9, presumably a
product of a literary composition as opposed to folk origin, describes the
process of learning as oral instruction. The dominance of the verb 'hear*
(e.g. in 4.1, 10; 5.13) stands out, along with the paucity of references to
writing (cf. 3.3).
35. C.F. Whitiey, Koheleth (BZAW, 148; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1979).
does the phrase designating professional sages as 'wide of
ears'.36
The situation in Alexandria, the probable setting of the
Wisdom of Solomon, is unique, as Alan Mendelson's Secular
Education in Philo of Alexandria31 effectively demonstrates.
There mastering the encyclicals was a means of upward
mobility, but knowledge of creation enabled students to move
beyond sensory data to what Philo called knowledge of God.
Small wonder the Wisdom of Solomon actually rattles off the
subjects in the school curriculum and dramatically emphasizes
the importance of correctly interpreting the *Book of Nature'.
The Hebrew Bible does not even provide sufficient data to
enable critics to ascertain the identity of those to whom
teaching was addressed. Curiously, the proverbial collection
that seems to comprise instruction for students, Proverbs 1-9,
actually employs language of family discourse,38 whereas the
oldest collections lack such vocabulary and give the impres-
sion of application to adult members of society. In ancient
Egyptian and Mesopotamian wisdom, the clientele of proverbs
is exclusively masculine. Rivkah Harris has exhaustively
documented the exceptions to this masculine hegemony in the
ancient Near East.39 She refers to educated daughters of
royalty and to female scribes who ministered solely to women
of the harem, serving as a buffer between the wives of rulers
and non-kin males. Although goddesses were patrons of the
scribal art in both these lands (Nisaba in Mesopotamia and
36. Tour were his eyes, four were his ears. When he moved his lips, fire
blazed forth. Each of his four ears grew large and (his) eyes likewise, to
see everything' (Sara Denning Bolle, Wisdom in Akkadian Literature:
Expression, Instruction, Dialogue [PhD dissertation, University of
California, Los Angeles, 1982], p. 58). Erica Reiner, The Etiological Myth
of the "Seven Sages'", Or 30 (1961), pp. 1-11, treats the apkallus.
37. Alan Mendelson, Secular Education in Philo of Alexandria (MHUC,
7; Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 1982).
38. An exclusively metaphorical understanding of vocabulary such as
'my son' and 'father' in the sense of student and teacher requires one to
ignore clear indications that some of these instructions took place within
a family setting (cf. 1.8; 6.20; 4.3-9).
39. Harris, 'The Female "Sage" in Mesopotamian Literature (with an
Appendix on Egypt)', pp. 3-18.
Seshat in Egypt), this fact did not translate into widespread
literacy for women any more than a comparable phenomenon
did in the Middle Ages in Europe. On rare occasions women
actually composed literature, for example, Sargon's daughter
Enheduanna, who described her literary activity as 'giving
birth', and Ninshatapada, the daughter of Sin-Kashib, the
founder of the Old Babylonian dynasty of Uruk.40 Graphic
imagery depicting women as literate, such as scenes showing
females with writing implements or written texts, may reflect
an ideal rather than the actual state of things. At least one
Egyptian text mentions a wise woman, but this expression
suffers from the same ambiguity that hakam does in the
Hebrew Bible.41 Does the word in its various forms ever bear a
technical sense, 'the wise'? Most critics think it does, but few
agree on which uses belong to this category. Recent research
has cast doubt on the supposed technical use of 'counselor' in
Mesopotamia,42 undercutting the claim—already on shaky
ground textually—that the biblical expression 'wise woman'
refers to a professional sage.43 Now and again certain remarks
reveal the extent to which women suffered from low self-
esteem ('Disregard that it is a mere woman who has written
and submitted [this] to you') or from calumny (Egyptian
graffiti that compare earlier graffiti to the 'work of a woman
who has no mind').44
40. Not one female name appears in Dandameyev's study of more

than three thousand scribes from the Neo-Babylonian period. In Egypt
the New Kingdom witnessed the rise to prominence of several remarkable
women, among whom were Hatshepsut, Tiy and Nefertiti.
41. Hans-Peter Muller and M. Krause, 'Chakham; chakham; chokmah;
chokmoth', TDOT, IV, pp. 364-85.
42. Sweet, The Sage in Akkadian Literature', p. 64.
43. P. Kyle McCarter, Jr, The Sage in the Deuteronomistic History*, in
Gammie and Perdue (eds.), The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East,
p. 291, characterizes the woman of Tekoa as an actress 'since Joab tells
her what to say and do'. Does the adjective 'wise' in this story simply
mean 'clever* or 'calculating* (cf. also the adjective describing Jonadab)?
44. The Egyptian Satire of the Trades contains an incidental observa-
tion more telling than most direct remarks about the status of women
(The weaver in the workshop, he is worse off than a woman...' [Miriam
Lichtheim, Ancient Egyptian Literature, I (Berkeley: University of
A different method for discovering the social world of the
sages has been applied to Job and Qoheleth, with interesting
results. In the book of Job Rainer Albertz discerns in-fighting
between rival groups of upper-class citizens, which he charac-
terizes as an unscrupulous enclave bent on amassing wealth
at the expense of less fortunate individuals versus a pious
group who cannot condone such harsh treatment of helpless
citizens.45 How this latter attitude squares with the fact that
the book is written from the standpoint of a wealthy suffering
innocent who expresses contempt for the scum of the earth in
ch. 30 needs to be explained, for only with great reservation
can it be said that this book champions the cause of the poor, a
point overlooked by J. David Pleins and Gustavo Gutierrez in
their otherwise perceptive studies.46 With respect to Qoheleth,
Frank Crusemann has rendered a verdict of 'guilty' on
charges of heartless surrender to the profit motive regardless
of the consequences.47 Other readers may concur with Elias
Bickerman that Qoheleth lived in an acquisitive society, an
age characterized by economic ventures aimed at making a
fortune,48 but they recognize that Qoheleth criticized all such
mercenary endeavors as futile or absurd. In my view, Qohel-
eth's remarks about victims of oppression with none to deliver
California Press, 1973), p. 188]). The washerman also suffers the
indignity of having to clean women's clothes (p. 189).
45. 'Der sozialgeschichtliche Hintergrund des Hiobbuches und der
"Babylonischen Theodizee"', in J. Jeremias und L. Perlitt (eds.), Die
Botschaft und die Boten: Festschrift H.W. Wolff (Neukirchen-Vluyn:
Neukirchener Verlag, 1981), pp. 349-72.
46. J. David Pleins, 'Poverty in the Social World of the Wise', JSOT 37
(1987), pp. 61-78, and 'Rhetorics of Opposition: Exploring the Diverging
Social Visions of the Hebrew Bible, with Special Reference to the Wisdom
Tradition', unpublished paper presented in Vienna at the Society of
Biblical Literature International Meeting; and Gustavo Gutierrez, On Job
(Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1987).
47. Frank Crusemann, 'Die unveranderbare Welt. Uberlegungen zur
"Krisis der Weisheit" beim Prediger (Kohelet)', in Der Gott der kleinen
Leute (ed. Willi Schottroff and Wolfgang Stegemann; Munich: Gelnhausen,
1979), pp. 80-104 (ET, The God of the Lowly [Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books,
1984]).
48. Elias J. Bickerman, Four Strange Books of the Bible (New York:
Schocken Books, 1967), pp. 139-67.
them convey pathos rather than contempt.
Udo Skladny's pioneering efforts to apply a sociological
approach to Proverbs did not persuade many critics,49 but
more recent applications of this perspective appear promising.
Joseph Blenkinsopp understands the preoccupation with
foreign women in Proverbs 1-9 by reference to the struggle
under Ezra and Nehemiah to rid the community of a per-
ceived threat posed by non-Jewish wives.50 Pleins and others
have analyzed the vocabulary of poverty in Proverbs, with
some surprising results.51 All these efforts to clarify the social
world of the sages underline the necessity of postulating
different centers of sapiential teaching from time to time. Such
diversity gives rise to still another question: Did the sages in
their several locations use rhetoric that set them apart from
the rest of society?
2. The Sages' Language of Discourse

Carol A. Newsom's penetrating analysis of the discourse
in Proverbs 1-9 illustrates the power inherent in a literary
study of sapiential texts.52 Using categories drawn from Mik-
hail Bakhtin, Emile Benveniste, Jacques Derrida, Mieke Bal,
Toril Moi and others, she focuses on the speaking self and the
silent addressee, as well as the feminine subject of that talk.
In doing so, Newsom highlights the hidden struggle for power
in shaping a world view and the subtle appeal to tran-
scendental authority. Under her critical eye these moral
teachings take on their character as life and death decisions
by competing generations. Aware of the social consequences o
49. Udo Skladny, Die altesten Spruchsammlungen in Israel (Gottingen:

Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1962).
50. Joseph Blenkinsopp, The Social Context of the "Outsider Woman"
in Proverbs 1-9', Bib 72 (1991), pp. 457-73.
51. Pleins, 'Poverty in the Social World of the Wise'; R.N. Whybray,
Wealth and Poverty in the Book of Proverbs (JSOTSup, 99; Sheffield:
JSOT Press, 1990); James L. Crenshaw, 'Poverty and Punishment in the
Bible', Quarterly Review 9 (1989), pp. 30-43.
52. Carol A. Newsom, 'Woman and the Discourse of Patriarchal
Wisdom: A Study of Proverbs 1-9', in Gender and Difference in Ancient
Israel (ed. Peggy L. Day; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1989), pp. 142-60.
actions, the teachers use every means at their disposal to

place the enemy on the margin of existence. In my view, no
other interpreter has succeeded to this degree in clarifying the
discourse as it unfolds in Proverbs 1-9.
I have discussed the compositional nature of the sayings of
Agur in Prov. 30.1-14 under the title 'Clanging Symbols'.53 It
seems that this entire unit builds on a principle of frustrated
expectation, as again and again the anticipated conclusion to
a familiar expression does not appear and in its place some-
thing wholly unexpected completes the thought. Here both
form and content mesh, for the shocking skepticism corresponds
to the stylistic iconoclasm.
David Penchansky's The Betrayal of God interprets the per-
ceived dissonance in the Book of Job by using categories from
Frederic Jameson, Michel Foucault and Pierre Macherey.54
For Penchansky, dissonance functions to emphasize the real
gaps in divine activity and character, and hence it should not
be explained away as editorial tampering with a seamless text.
Such an approach implies that a cloud of darkness hovers
over the book from start to finish, and this cloud heightens
the mystery and terror associated with the deity depicted in
Job. Robert Alter has traced an intricate connection between
Job's initial lament and the subsequent theophany; in
exquisite detail the divine speech mirrors the earlier human
complaint.55 Alter's sensitivity to the imagery of the text
approximates the powerful thrust of Othmar Keel's discussion
of Egyptian symbolism for chaos, the hippopotamus and the
crocodile.561 have noted an additional feature of the theo-
phany, the clash between form and content.57 The anticipated
53. James L. Crenshaw, 'Changing Symbols', in Justice and the Holy:
Essays in Honor of Walter Harrelson (ed. Douglas A. Knight and
Peter J. Paris; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989), pp. 51-64.
54. David Penchansky, The Betrayal of God (Louisville: Westminster/
John Knox Press, 1990).
55. Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Poetry (New York: Basic Books,
1985), pp. 85-110.
56. Othmar Keel, Jahwes Entgegnung an Ijob: Eine Deutung von Ijob
38-41 vor dem Hintergrund der zeitgenossischen Bildkunst (Gottingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1978).
57. James L. Crenshaw, 'When Form and Content Clash: The
comforting presence generated by the theophany in context is
mitigated by words that ridicule Job and describe a universe
virtually devoid of human beings, yet one in which Yahweh
takes great pride.
Michael V. Fox has given a new interpretation of multiple
voices in Qoheleth, which he understands as various personae
of the author.58 Appealing to a common stylistic device in the
ancient world, as well as in more modern works like
Joel Chandler Harris's The Tales of Uncle Remus, Fox thinks
of a single narrator who assumes different personae. The
speaker who frames the story then shifts from third person to
first person and addresses others as Qoheleth. This approach
enables Fox to argue for unity throughout the book, despite
contradictions and apparent epilogues.
Two recent dissertations have examined ancient Near
Eastern rhetoric in Sumerian and Akkadian wisdom litera-
ture. Robert S. Falkowitz claims in The Sumerian Rhetoric
Collections that so-called proverb collections are misnamed,
for they contain many genres besides proverbial sayings—
specifically maxims, riddles, enthymemes, fables, tables and
incantations—and he insists that the rhetoric collections were
used as texts in schools.59 Their purpose, in his opinion, was to
train scribes in the art of persuasion. Falkowitz thinks many
of these genres fluctuated; for example, a proverb became
familiar, lost its metaphoric essence, and became a maxim. He
also insists that the difference between one genre and another
was often hardly noticeable, for metaphors meant to be enig-
matic identify riddles and metaphors meant to be understood
indicate proverbs. Falkowitz denies that these rhetoric collec-
tions ever existed outside the school, despite the traditional
appearance akin to folk wisdom, and he supposes that rhetoric
Theology of Job 38.1-40.5', in Creation in the Biblical Tradition (ed.

J.J. Collins and R.J. Clifford; CBQMS, 1992), pp. 70-84.
58. Michael V. Fox, Qohelet and his Contradictions (JSOTSup, 71;
Bible and Literature Series, 18; Sheffield: JSOT Press; Almond Press,
1989), and 'Frame-Narrative and Composition in the Book of Qohelet',
HUCA 49 (1977), pp. 83-106.
59. Robert S. Falkowitz, The Sumerian Rhetoric Collections (PhD
dissertation, University of Pennsylvania, 1980).
collections were learned after basic sign lists, lexical lists, and
grammatical texts. If he is correct, two observations will
impinge heavily on wisdom research: consistency was not of
great importance, and one cannot deduce a society's values
from its proverbs alone, for they do not necessarily express
commonly held truths.60
The other analysis of discourse in Akkadian wisdom, Sara
Denning Belle's Wisdom in Akkadian Literature: Expression,
Instruction, Dialogue', interprets the texts from the stand-
point of dialogue as understood by Plato and Bakhtin.61 Bolle
first looks at dialogue in Akkadian narratives such as The
Gilgamesh Epic, then turns to cult texts (incantations), instruc-
tions, contest literature, and dialogical texts, e.g. Theodicy, A
Dialogue of Pessimism and A Dialogue between a Man and
God. Bolle isolates three features of Platonic dialogue:
(1) Socratic elenchus, or questioning to expose ignorance,
(2) epagoge, or arriving at a universal from a particular, and
(3) Socratic definition, or searching for the essence. Using
Bakhtin's emphasis on polyphonic dialogue, one that never
ends, Bolle analyzes ancient dialogues, including inner
dialogues and dialogues within dialogues. She recognizes the
rich potential of rhetorical questions, which effect transitions,
communicate philosophical, timeless truth, enhance drama,
draw readers into the narrative, emphasize, and startle.
Noting that instructions address a fictitious audience, Bolle
perceives that, at a deeper level than the monologue, they
address the inner worlds of mind and heart. Taking issue with
her teacher Giorgio Buccellati, she understands the Theodicy
to be internal dialogue carried on within the heart of a single
person (like Qoheleth and The Dialogue of a Man with his
60. If wisdom and law are integrally related, one would expect pro-
verbial prohibitions to express ancient values. I have explored this putative
relationship in an essay entitled 'Prohibitions in Proverbs and Qoheleth',
in Priests, Prophets and Scribes (Festschrift Joseph Blenkinsopp;
ed. Eugene Ulrich et al.; JSOTSup, 149; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1992),
pp. 115-24.
61. Sara Denning Bolle, Wisdom in Akkadian Literature: Expression,
Instruction, Dialogue' (PhD dissertation, University of California, Los
Angeles, 1982).
Soul). She sums up the importance of dialogue as follows:
Wisdom is a matter of communication, enlightening, and
instructing: dialogue is its vehicle'.62
Returning to the question with which we began this discus-
sion of literary analysis, did the sages use distinctive rhetoric?
As the preceding comments on dialogue indicate, we cannot
claim exclusive use of these literary features by ancient sages,
but we can affirm special rhetoric in some instances.63 Still, we
lack conclusive criteria for distinguishing in every case exactly
which text derives from a sapiential milieu and which one
does not. The continuing debate over the provenance of the
Book of Job illustrates the slippage in this regard.64
3. The Concept of God in Wisdom Literature

Traditional approaches to wisdom literature have by no
means vanished from the contemporary scene. Lennart Bost-
rb'm's The God of the Sages looks at the view of God in Pro-
verbs, concentrating on the notion of creation and the belief
in a personal relationship between believer and High God.65
Bostrom replaces the descriptive term 'act-consequence' with
'character-consequence', which he thinks more accurately
reflects the ancient teaching about order as subject to
Yahweh's activity.66 Bostrom also discerns a higher degree of
62. Bolle, Wisdom in Akkadian Literature', p. 280.

63. I have attempted to provide some observations on the sages'
rhetoric in Wisdom and Authority: Sapiential Rhetoric and its Warrants',
in Congress Volume, Vienna 1980 (ed. J.A. Emerton; VTSup, 32; Leiden:
Brill, 1981), pp. 10-29.
64. Katharine J. Dell, The Book of Job as Sceptical Literature (BZAW,
197; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1991), pp. 57-107; Bruce Zuckennan, Job the
Silent (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991); Edwin M. Good, In
Turns of Tempest (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1990).
65. Lennart Bostrom, The God of the Sages (ConBOT, 29; Stockholm:
Almqvist & Wiksell, 1990). T.N.D. Mettinger, In Search of God
(Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1988), pp. 175-200, emphasizes the transi-
tion in the book of Job from a hidden to a revealed God.
66. On the place of'order* in current research, see my essay, 'Murphy's
Axiom: Every Gnomic Saying Needs a Balancing Corrective', in The
Listening Heart: Essays in Wisdom and the Psalms in Honor of Roland E.
Murphy, O. Carm. (ed. Kenneth G. Hoglund et al.; JSOTSup, 58; Sheffield:
readiness in Israel to speak of an intimate relationship with
the creator than in Egypt, even during the period of deep
piety there.67 In some respects Bostrb'm joins hands with Jon
Levenson, whose Creation and the Persistence of Evil high-
lights the resistant force of chaos alluded to in many biblical
texts.68
In a paper in memory of John Gammie,69 I looked once more
at Johannes Fichtner's conclusions concerning Israelite sages'
reluctance to attribute grace to the deity, in contrast with
Egyptian and Mesopotamian wisdom literature. On the basis
of a fresh analysis of key texts, it is possible to nuance
Fichtner's hypothesis somewhat differently without denying
its essential validity.
Conclusion
In this brief survey of recent research, I do not claim to do
justice to the many fine articles on wisdom literature falling
outside the rubrics selected for discussion. Perhaps I shall be
forgiven if I mention one further area of research: the endea-
vor to locate larger units within collections of proverbs.70 Of
course, such studies deploy the roguish 'reader response' theory
of literary critics,71 but the supposed connections between
quite diverse sayings also raise the issue that H.-J. Hermisson
JSOT Press, 1987). One can posit the importance of order in the ancient
sapiential worldview without deifying the concept. In Israel Yahweh had
the final word, and the same can probably be said of Egypt's High God.
67. Williams, The Sage in Egyptian Literature', p. 22.
68. Jon Levenson, Creation and the Persistence of Evil (San Francisco:
Harper & Row, 1988).
69. James L. Crenshaw, 'The Concept of God in Old Testament
Wisdom', in In Search of Wisdom: Essays in Memory of John G. Gammie
(ed. Leo G. Perdue and Brandon Scott; Philadelphia: Westminster/John
Knox), forthcoming.
70. Ted Hildebrandt, 'Proverbial Pairs: Compositional Units in Proverbs
10-29', JBL 107 (1988), pp. 207-24; Raymond C. Van Leeuwen, Context
and Meaning in Proverbs 25-27 (SBLDS, 96; Atlanta: Scholars Press,
1988).
71. David W. Cotter, A Study of Job 4^5 in the Light of Contemporary
Literary Theory (SBLDS, 124; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992), pp. 97-105.
tried to lay to rest,72 namely the differences between folk and
literary proverbs, on which some light has now come from
Africa.73 Michael Fishbane's perceptive studies on inner-
biblical midrash relate to this problem,74 for his approach
assumes wide familiarity with a written biblical text by many
ancient readers. If my conclusions about literacy in Israel are
reasonably accurate, scholars will need to exercise consider-
ably more restraint in regard to citations of biblical texts.75 In
any event, scholarly interest in sociological and literary inter-
pretations of wisdom promises to enrich more conventional
approaches. Perhaps all of these endeavors will clarify the
manner in which ancient peoples achieved knowledge and
explain the esteem in which learning was held.
72. H.-J. Hermisson, Studien zur israelitischen Spruchweisheit

(Neukirchen—Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1968).
73. Glaus Westermann, *Weisheit im Sprichwort', in Schalom: Studien
zu Glaube und Geschichte Israels, Alfred Jepsen zum 70. Geburtstag (ed.
K.H. Bernhardt; Arbeiten zur Theologie, 46; Stuttgert: Calwer Verlag
(1971), pp. 73-85; F.W. Golka, 'Die israelitische Weisheitsschule oder "des
Kaisers neue Kleider"', VT 33 (1983), pp. 257-70; 'Die Konigs- und
Hofspriiche und der Ursprung der israelitischen Weisheit', VT 36 (1986),
pp. 13-36; 'Die Flecken des Leoparden. Biblische und afrikanische Weisheit
im Sprichwort', in Schopfung und Befreiung: fur Claus Westermann zum
80. Geburtstag (ed. R. Albertz; Stuttgart: Calwer Verlag, 1989), pp. 149-
65; and Lawrent Nare, Proverbes salomoniens et proverbes mossi
(Publications Universitaires Europeens; Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang,
1986).
74. Michael Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1985).
75. Contrast the monograph on the book of Joel by Siegfried Bergler,
Joel als Schriftinterpret (Beitrage zur Erforschung des Alten Testaments
und des antiken Judentums, 16; Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 1988).
MEMORY AND ENCOUNTER: AN EDUCATIONAL IDEAL
John Eaton
The prevailing educational tradition of our time discourages

memorization and dutiful reproduction. Students from other
traditions are sometimes surprised to find that, having repro-
duced their lecturer's words exactly, they fail their examina-
tion, even though the same lecturer was among the examiners.
How bewildering, after childhood years in the home country
when education was all learning and repeating! How difficult
to develop the required 'critical ability* and 'originality*! But
even more bewildering is the idea that 'teaching* itself may be
frowned on as a handing down from the top! Better, the
theory goes, if nothing positive is imposed! Rather create a
situation in which something may emerge from below!
Are we here touching on a clash of cultures—new against
old, west against east? At all events, it is likely that not all the
trends presently prevailing in education will be permanent.
Social changes and crises will ensure that educational meth-
ods are reconsidered. There may be fresh interest in the prac-
tice of former generations. And so this essay, in honour of one
who has written much on the intellectual tradition of biblical
times, will concern some Israelite approaches to the education
and formation of the individual and the society. Where did
the Israelites stand in matters of learning by heart, recitation,
critical ability, originality, teaching with authority, the effort
to form character?
1. At the Feet of the Sage

No doubt the characteristic 'wisdom* sayings, brief and poetic,
were well suited for memorization. They were, says the sage
180 EATON Memory and Encounter
in Prov. 22.18, pleasant to take deep into one's belly, ready to
be deployed fluently upon the lips. But the sages stressed the
need for critical ability in their use:
Limp hang the legs of the lame—
no less a proverb from the mouth of fools (Prov. 26.7).
Wise judgment was needed to match word to situation:
Apples of gold in silver filigree—
so the saying said in its right moment (25.11).
The sayings were not to be learnt without being pondered.
They were meant to stimulate meditation, to provoke the
mind to habits of discernment. The sayings of the wise were
like goads (Eccl. 12.11). Their sharpness would hurt the
unthinking user like a brier clutched by a drunk (Prov. 26.9).
So the teacher strove to cultivate discernment in the recep-
tion and use of proverbs; the aim was to 'discern discerning
sayings' (1.2), 'to discern proverb and figure' (1.6). Discern-
ment, bina, was synonymous with wisdom. It was the fault of
Job's counsellors that they trotted out the teachings without
discernment. Theirs were sayings not fitted to the occasion,
proverbs hanging limp from the mouth of fools. The skill of
the dramatist here almost makes us forget the folly of this
misapplication, but it is plainly denounced in the end in the
speech of God (Job 42.7).
For the development of discernment, the sage considered
several things necessary.1 Important here was a realistic
appraisal of the limits of human understanding. One had to
be aware that, however much effort was put into thought and
planning, it was the divine purpose that would stand (Prov.
19.21). The wisest may attain to wonder at the God who
stretches out the sky-vault over the void and hangs the earth
on nothing, yet these are but the fringes of his ways, and how
small a whisper do we hear of him (Job 26.7-8)!
The worst bar to developing discernment is to think oneself
1. We meet here the interrelation of the sage's favourite themes,

which I have tried to display in my The Contemplative Face of Old
Testament Wisdom (London: SCM Press; Philadelphia: Trinity Press
International, 1989).
EATON Memory and Encounter 181
wise (Prov. 26.12). The sage treats with heavy irony the one
who speaks as though having mastered the mysteries. Such a
know-all might well be called Mr I-am-God (Ithi-el, cf.
Aramaic 'yty 'I am') or I-am-God-and-I-can-do-it (Ithi-el-wa-
ukal); perhaps he would kindly explain to us who have not
yet attained wisdom all about the divine work in heaven and
earth which he seems to have a decisive hand in (30.1-4)!2
The key to discernment could be expressed as the Clearing
heart'. Such was the one thing in all the world which the
ideal young king desired in order to 'discern' (1 Kgs 3.9). This
wonderful educational ideal implies a teachable and open
mind, the gift of sympathetic attention, the power of observa-
tion, and above all an ear for truth, a listening to the divine
voice and a readiness to follow it.
Nowhere does the sage speak of his educational aim as
being to inculcate a body of knowledge. Little trace has he left
of his syllabus. The goal of his course is expressed as his
pupil's attainment of 'the fear of the LORD' and 'the
knowledge of God', the fruit of much attention, asking and
seeking (2.1-5). This fear will be something to 'discern', and
this knowledge something to 'find' (as something graciously
given). Such is the 'wisdom', 'knowledge' and 'discernment'
that are in view (2.6). It would not seem that one could com-
plete the sage's course, unlike some of ours, in an atmosphere
of pride, self-congratulation, honours and titles.
2. Education in the Worshipping Community

Deuteronomy and several kindred texts attach great impor-
tance to the teaching of the history of the nation's dealings
with God. At first sight this might well seem to be a case of
2. The name Ithiel is found also in Neh. 11.7 and may originally have
meant either 'El exists' or 'El is with me' (see L. Koehler, Hebraisches und
aramaisches Lexikon zum ALten Testament [Leiden: Brill, 3rd edn, 1967],
p. 43). The latter meaning would fit my general interpretation here, but
the weight of the irony in this passage and the contrast with the
preceding 'the man* incline me to think the name is here understood as I
have rendered it.
sheer indoctrination, as each generation was taught the

heavily interpreted version of history from an early age. But
again, we shall see that the undertaking had some aspects
worthy of note in a consideration of formative education.3 For
convenience we may distinguish six such aspects as follows.
1. Obligation was laid on the community to perpetuate
remembrance of the events of its origin. The events were
recounted as purposeful deeds of God that must be rehearsed
and taught to each new generation. At their heart was the
deliverance from slavery in Egypt, the covenant of God and
people established at Mount Sinai, and the leading into a
homeland.
Such stress was laid on this obligation to remember that it
was even said that the deeds of salvation were done to create
the remembrance. The miracles in Egypt, it is said in Exod.
10.2, were done in order that Moses, and indeed every
Israelite, might tell in the ears of their children and grand-
children what God had done. From the first, according to
Deut. 4.9, the Israelites were taught to guard their soul lest
they allow what their own eyes had seen at Horeb to slip from
their heart; all through their life they must so beware, and be
sure to make these things known to their descendants.
2. The story that must be thus taught and kept in the active
memory included within it a call to a way of life. For at the
heart of the narration is the proclamation of the command-
ments, expressing God's will for the shaping of the new life of
this rescued people. They have been freed from the service of
tyrants into the service of the Lord. Deliverance and command-
ments merge in the story of redemption. Thus the Israelite is
told in Deut. 6.20-24:
3. An interesting treatment of Israel's narrative recitals has been

given by Walter Brueggemann, Abiding Astonishment: Psalms, Modernity
and the Making of History (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press,
1991). His starting point is in Psalms 78, 105, 106 and 136. He finds the
recital grating against the 'Establishment' in that it exalts the
independent, overruling will of God, while from another point of view it jars
with the experience of the innocent oppressed. He gives good extensive
bibliography in the area of history and rhetoric, memory and recital.
When in time to come your child asks you, 'What is the meaning
of the testimonies, statutes and orders which the LORD our God
has commanded you?', you shall say to your child, 'We were
Pharaoh's slaves in Egypt, and the LORD brought us out of
Egypt with a mighty hand, and the LORD gave signs and
portents, great and harmful, on Egypt, Pharaoh and all his
household before our eyes, but he brought us out from there in
order to bring us in, to give us the land as he had sworn to our
fathers. And the LORD commanded us to do all these statutes
to fear the LORD our God for our good always, that he might
give us new life as we have this day.
Similarly in Ps. 78.3-7 divine works and commandments are
woven together.4 Not without a note of mystery, the singer
tells of the deep events,
which we heard and knew
for our fathers recounted them to us.
We will not hide them from their children,
recounting for a future generation the LORD'S praises
and his strength and the miracles he did.
And he established a testimony in Jacob
and appointed a law in Israel,
commanding our fathers
to make them known to their children,
that the coming generation should know them,
the children yet to be born,
so that they in turn should tell them to their children
and set their hope in God,
and not forget the deeds of God,
but keep his commandments.
It is not just that salvation is followed by allegiance to the
Saviour; rather, it consists in such allegiance. His tora and
commandments—his guiding words—are thus a necessary
feature of the life of salvation, showing how the relationship
4. In a carefully argued treatment, Otto Eissfeldt shows the affinity

of Psalm 78 with the Song of Moses (Deut. 32), and gives good grounds for
dating these recitals back to the Davidic-Solomonic period: Das Lied
Moses Deuteronomium 32.1-43 und das Lehrgedicht Asaphs Psalm 78
(Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 1958). Aubrey R. Johnson also argues for a
Solomonic date for Psalm 78, giving a good exposition, in The Cultic
Prophet and Israel's Psalmody (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 1979),
pp. 45-66.
can be maintained. So Moses concludes his rehearsal of the
sacred teaching (Deut. 32.46-47):
Set your heart on all the words which I testify to you today,
which you shall command your children... for it is no empty
speech—it is your very life.
3. The work of remembrance, involving learning, reciting
and handing down, brings the original experiences into the
present. What happened then becomes the experience of those
engaged in the remembrance. To them, now, God is disclosing
himself with his same 'I am the LORD' (Exod. 10.2).
This aspect is clear in the observances of worship where
remembrance was made both by recital and by elements of
dramatic re-enactment. The Passover meal, for example, links
with the meal of the ancient story. For the participants, down
through the generations, the past becomes present; the
ancient freedom is known now.5
4. But there is an important qualification in such identifi-
cation that the worshippers make with the first generation.
True, the celebrating worshippers easily pass from 'them' to
'us' as the characters in the story. In Ps. 66.5-6 they say:
Come and see the deeds of God,
as he shows himself terrible in action over mankind.
He turns the sea into dry land,
they cross through the river on foot.
There let us rejoice in him!
And the speech of the manifest God makes the same
transition in Ps. 81.7-8:
I removed his shoulder from the load,
his hands went free from the brick-tub.
In the affliction you called and I delivered you,
I answered you from the thunder-cloud,
I tested you beside the waters of Meriba.
5. On re-enactments and creative drama a basic discussion is pro-

vided by Sigmund Mowinckel in his Religion und Kultus (Gottingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1953), pp. 73-80. See also my The Psalms
Come Alive (Oxford: Mowbray, 1984; Downers Grove, IL: Inter-Varsity
Press, 1986), pp. 116-29.
Hear, my people, as I admonish you!
If only, Israel, you would listen to me!...
I am the LORD your God
who brought you up from the land of Egypt—
open wide your mouth and I will fill it full!
But such identification of present rememberers with the
original generation is not without critical awareness. There is
no heroic generation to serve as role models. The aim of the
remembrance is to come to the place where the fundamental
salvation is given and make the response that the ancestors
failed to make. The account handed down had a critical spirit.
In remembrance one must discriminate. One must set one's
hope in God—unlike the fathers, that stubborn and rebellious
generation, devious in heart, fickle in spirit (Ps. 78.7-8).
5. The activity of remembrance, with its work of teaching,
receiving and reciting, is a continual work of formation. It is
not done just to initiate a new generation, nor to renew the
knowledge in great seasonal celebrations. It is to extend
through every day, so that society and all its members may be
formed in a disposition towards God and maintained in it. In
Deuteronomy it is stressed again and again that any genera-
tion or individual that neglects the rehearsing and remem-
bering will soon fall away from awareness of the life-giving
revelation and so become a slave to human folly:
Only be watchful regarding yourself, and guard your soul with
great care, lest you forget the things your own eyes have seen,
and they slip away from your heart all the days of your life
(Deut. 4.9).
The healthful, formative words of God are to be remem-
bered so constantly that they become woven with the stuff of
daily routine. In 6.6-9 this is expressed in vivid metaphors
based on such practices as tattooing and wearing of pendants
as a sign of cultic allegiance:
And these words which I command you today must be upon
your heart, and you must impress them upon your children, and
speak of them when you sit down in your house and when you
walk along the way, when you lie down and when you rise up.
And you must bind them for a sign upon your hand, and they
shall be as frontlets between your eyes, and you must write
them upon the doorposts of your house and upon your gates.
6. The whole undertaking of remembrance is understood to
flow from the initiative of God and to be sustained through
co-operation with him. It is seen as his chosen means for his
historic salvation through all generations, uniting thus all
descendants in the community of the freed, the fellowship of
those who walk with him, having his words upon their heart.
We have noted the idea that he planned this remembrance
in advance of the great deliverance (Exod. 10.2) and we have
seen how earnestly his prophet enjoins his will for its mainte-
nance. The priesthood too, the sanctuary, the liturgy, and the
sacred observances in family life—all receive their validity
from divine ordinance, and all contribute to the remembrance.
Strenuous as is the human part in fixing the mind on the will
and work of God, it is made possible by the divine power
which runs through the whole undertaking. Loving him so
'with all your strength', you are constantly embraced and
upheld by him. To take part in this divine work is indeed to
receive life from God.6
6. A similar analysis can be made of the New Testament's version of

remembrance—evidence of the continuing importance of such recital in
religion: (1) There was now a careful handing down of the apostolic
account of the divine acts in Jesus from which the community had sprung
(Lk. 1.1-2; 1 Cor. 15.3-7). (2) With the narratives of Jesus were bound his
words. His people are freed into a new obedience (Lk. 1.74-75). They live
in a 'pattern of teaching" in which they have been traditioned' (Rom. 6.17).
(3) Receiving the tradition, they also receive Christ, learn him, are united
with him (Col. 2.6-7; Eph. 4.20-24). In baptism and eucharist, along with
recital of the original acts, comes experience of the Saviour. (4) The
identification of the believer with Christ is not a glib assumption of
superior being but an exposure to the creative might of God. The believer
shares the fellowship of Christ's death and resurrection through faith in
the working of God (Phil. 3.10; Col. 2.6-12). Critical awareness governs
regard for the pioneer generation. Their inadequate behaviour is frankly
remembered. One joins with them only to come close to the Saviour's
presence. (5) The community and its members, through the rehearsal and
reliving of the sacred story, are ever in process of formation (Eph. 4.11-
16; Gal. 4.19), in opposition to the fashioning influences of a godless world
(Rom. 12.2). The process continues until God's final work of conformation
(1 Cor. 15.62; Phil. 3.21). (6) The commemorating tradition is 'from the
Lord' (1 Cor. 11.23). God's Spirit teaches, brings to remembrance,
witnesses of Christ, guides (Jn 14.26; 15.26; 16.13-14). The apostles are
3. Songs of Devotion to the Lord as Teacher

Ideas of education and formation through memory, recital
and reflection are illumined also by psalms that exalt God as
teacher and guide. The most obvious psalms with this theme
are Psalms 1, 19, 25 and 119, and we shall now consider
these in turn from this point of view.
Psalm 1 pictures the pious person as absorbed day and
night in an intoned recital (verb haga) of the Lord's teaching
(tora). Though comparison with Josh. 1.8 suggests that such
recital is aided by a scroll, memory must in any case play a
big part. Through memorization, fluency is attained, and the
words sink deep into the soul, justifying the comparison with
the tree. Transplanted beside constant channels of water, the
tree draws on the life-source and flourishes continually. So
the ardent reciters of the Lord's teachings draw blessing
through the roots of their being, as they are held in
communion with the will and person of the Lord.
That such recital includes responses in formulas of appreci-
ation and praise is suggested by another occurrence of the
root haga, Ps. 19.15. The singer has sent up like an offering
the words of his mouth and the resounding (higgayon) of his
heart. His words have included thankful appreciation of the
Lord's teaching (tora)—commandments that bestow new
health, wisdom and joy. The manifold terms for this teaching
reflect the singer's devotion and his appreciation of the rich-
ness of the guidance: it is instruction, testimony, order, com-
mand, rule—but every term is always qualified by
attachment to the divine name; only as the breath of the
living Lord is this teaching valued. The resonant meditation is
an offering to this Lord, 'my Rock and my Redeemer' (19.15).
Psalm 25 is interesting in that it does not use the main syn-
onyms for the Lord's teaching and commandments, and so
15.26; 16.13-14). The apostles are ministering assistants of the sacred
word (Lk. 1.2), devoted to its service (Acts 6.4). The various teachers and
speakers are enabled by God (Eph. 4.11; 1 Cor. 12.28). Apostolic word
and proclamation mediate holy power (1 Cor. 2.4). In all this the Holy
Spirit is at work as a pledge of the final transformation (2 Cor. 1.22; Eph.
1.1-14; 4.30).
may reflect the piety preceding the tora eulogies of Psalms 19
and 119. What is taught is repeatedly designated a 'way'; the
teaching conveys a pattern of life, guidance for a daily
journey into ever closer relation with God the teacher. It is the
verbs for his teaching that abound in this psalm. He 'causes to
learn' dimmed, w. 4, 5, 9), 'causes to know' (hodia', w. 4,
14), 'guides' or 'instructs' (hora, w. 8, 12), 'shows the way*
(hidrik, w. 5, 9). The circle round the teacher is a circle of
intimates (sod, v. 14), a friendly group where each is well
known and trusted.7 In this circle the teaching Lord leads
each one into practical knowledge of the fellowship-bond
(v. 14). The disciple's eyes are fixed on him (v. 15).
The figure of teaching and learning is strongly maintained
in Psalm 119, where the synonyms for the Lord's teaching
and words of direction are lavishly deployed in a huge acros-
tic.8 The singer would 'learn' the commandments (Idmad, w.
7, 71, 73). He is keen to remember them (zakar, w. 52, 55)
and not 'forget' them (sakah, vv. 16, 61, 93, 109, 141, 153,
176). From the mouth of God he repeats aloud (sipper, v. 13)
with his lips the divine orders. The Lord imparts the learning
dimmed, w. 26, 64, 68, 108, 124, 135, 171; cf. 99), enables
him to 'know' (yada', v. 125; cf. 66), instructs and guides
(hord, vv. 33, 102). As in Psalms 1 and 25, the teaching
amounts to a 'way', giving value and direction to the daily life
(w. 1, 9, 15, 27, 32, 105).
But all this learning, reciting and care not to forget the
numerous directions voiced by the divine teacher is but a
foundation course. The mature study is a matter of insight,
research (verb ddras, v. 94), and discovery with the force of
revelation. The recitations involve meditation and contempla-
tion (verbs stah and hibbit, v. 15). With love and reverence
7. The context supports Ludwig KoeUer'sHebraisches und arama-

isches Lexikon (Leiden: Brill, 1st edn, 1953), p. 651, in taking sod here as
'Kreis von Vertrauten', against the third edition (1967/1983, pp. 703-704)
withTlan,Geheimnis (als Folge oder Ergebnis der Besprechung)'.
8. A good treatment of this psalm has been given by Will Soil, Psalm
119: Matrix, Form and Setting (Washington: Catholic Biblical Association
of America, 1991). He inclines to see it as a lament of Jehoiachin.
for the subject-matter, the path of constant meditation is
opened (w. 48, 97, 148; cf. 99).
Through such meditation comes experience of deeper
regions of meaning; discernment is graciously given, and
wonder awakened (v. 27; cf. 99). Frequently the student-
psalmist asks for this gift of discernment, for only with this
can he accord with the commandments wholeheartedly
(v. 34), only then indeed can he meaningfully learn and know
them (w. 73, 125). And he rejoices that discernment has been
given (w. 95, 100, 104).
This is to reach the point where the Lord's words are
opened; light breaks from them, giving insight to the simplest
(v. 130). With such insight, the soul truly conies alive (v. 144).
It is an experience of revelation, when the Lord uncovers the
inner eye and it beholds in or through the commandments
marvellous things (nipla'dt, v. 18). Previously the command-
ments were 'hidden' (v. 19), and the soul was crushed with
longing for them in their revealed beauty (v. 20). For these
marvels (pela'ot, v. 129) one yearned and panted with mouth
agape (v. 131). At their disclosure, the body trembled and hair
bristled (v. 120).
Bernhard Duhm, who treated this psalm with scorn in his
commentary, Die Psalmen,9 remarked that it was a pity the
psalmist had not thought to share with us some of the
wonders he had discovered in the tora and helped us
understand the joy derived from his research into the food
laws, and so forth. But the psalm is referring to an experience
of passing through the recited material to an apprehension of
the divine. The Lord's teaching has become a flood of grace,
answering the prayer 'Grace me your teaching' (torat?ka
honneni, v. 29).
Conclusion
From Section 1 it is apparent that the value of critical judg-
ment was well understood in ancient Israel. The material
handed down by the sages for learning and reciting had to be
9. Bernhard Duhm, Die Psalmen (KHAT, 14; Freiburg: J.C.B. Mohr,
1899; 2nd edn, 1922).
used with discernment and discrimination. They regarded the
critical faculty as essential, but they cultivated it within a
total spiritual disposition that included humility, awe and
openness of the whole person to the truth.
Though the education given by the sages may seem rather
distinct from the Deuteronomic type of teaching, it is gener-
ally recognized that they share some common ground.10 The
sage's value of critical judgment, 'discernment', has some
counterpart in all the materials we have surveyed. Fore-
fathers, customarily honoured, were criticized sharply in a
way that also challenged the consciences of the rememberers.
The teaching handed down was described as thought-
provoking—'proverb' (mold/) and 'riddles' (hiddt) needing
much attention and pondering (Ps. 78.2).
In Section 2 we noted in the worshipping community the
ideal of a great story handed down, and kept ever in mind by
recitation and other acts of remembrance. It spoke to commu-
nity and individual of their origins, the purpose and pattern
of their living, and of the Good that they should ever love and
embrace. The constant remembrance of the story was to fill
their lives with its values and with the One who gave the val-
ues. It was maintained that neglect of the remembrance
would bring enslavement to false values.
From Section 3 we gain the impression that the life of
remembrance was like living inside a poem. The poem, created
and refined in tradition, was an interpretation of the world, of
history and existence. It embodied profound insights, and
those who lived in it by remembering it continually were
embraced, guided and nourished by it. Our psalms showed
how those who lived in the poem could become poets them-
selves. They respond poetically, singing to their Poet-teacher
of his grace as a way, as water of life, as light and sweetness,
as counsel of friendship, as revelation of divine beauty.
Modern seekers of God should find much that is meaningful
10. See, for example, Moshe Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deut-
eronomic School (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971); and, with reference to
Wisdom psalms, Leo G. Perdue, Wisdom and Cult (Missoula, MT:
Scholars Press, 1977), and Robert Davidson, Wisdom and Worship
(London: SCM Press; Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1990).
in the ideals and practices we have considered—the listening
heart dear to the sage, the Deuteronomic living in a story, the
poetic communion of the psalmists. The modern seekers may
recognize that they too need the means to keep their soul
alert and open to God, defended from false values and
seductions, and they too will find the means in a great
memory, narrative and poetic, that they receive, interpret and
hand on.
But even our secular education could beneficially engage
with the convictions underlying the Israelite ideals. Here were
people who through generations were sure they had some-
thing vital to hand down, something worth learning, reciting
and pondering. It took the form of a story, in effect a great
poem that encompassed and interpreted life, distinguished
true values and moulded conduct. It was a story of the Good
and gave experience of the Good, leaving no vacuum for poi-
sonous things to fill. It nourished a healthful formation. All
the effort of imparting it was met and borne along by a force
of Tightness, as though the educators had struck on some-
thing deep in the purpose of life. Critical ability, discernment,
lively response, creativity—all found their place in hearts that
could listen in patience and humility, hearts that had no
greater ambition than wholly to love the Good that first loved
them.
SOME OBSERVATIONS ON THE FIGURATIONS OF WOMAN IN
WISDOM LITERATURE
Athalya Brenner
This study is presented with admiration and gratitude to

Professor Norman Whybray, a wise scholar; and to Ms Mary
Whybray, a wise woman.
When I choose to consider figurations of woman in Wisdom
and Wisdom-related texts from a feminist perspective, two
questions keep insinuating themselves into my mind. 1. What
are the figurations women are imaged (projected) into in this
literary genre? 2. Do these figurations reflect male (M) inter-
ests, male perspectives, as conceded by feminist and non-
feminist critics alike?1 Or do they also, in some or a number of
cases, reflect female (F) interests and perspectives?2 In short,
whose gender ideologies might these images of woman serve?
This survey is addressed to these two closely bound issues in
the hope of contributing some guidelines towards rereading
Wisdom-type biblical texts.
For the purpose of this survey, the descriptive title Wisdom
texts' will refer to the Books of Proverbs, Job and Qoheleth, as
customary in Bible research. In addition, it will include Wisdom-
1. For instance, in C.V. Camp, Wisdom and the Feminine in the Book
of Proverbs (Sheffield: Almond Press, 1985), and in C. Newsom, Woman
and the Discourse of Patriarchal Wisdom: A Study of Proverbs 1-9', in
P.L. Day (ed.), Gender and Difference in Ancient Israel (Minneapolis:
Fortress Press, 1989), pp. 142-60—both in reference to Proverbs.
2. My terminology is M for male/masculine, F for female/feminine. See
further, for the terminology and for the gender definition of a text by its
perspective or 'signature', 'Introduction', in A. Brenner and F. van Dijk-
Hemmes, On Gendering Texts: Female and Male Voices in the Hebrew
Bible (Leiden: Brill, 1993), pp. 1-11.
BRENNER Figurations of Woman in Wisdom 193
related textual blocs that contain the 'inferior stranger
achieves success' Wisdom paradigm—passages from the Joseph
story, the book of Esther, and Daniel. In all these texts, apart
from Job (which belongs to the same genre by scholarly con-
sent), there obtains a preoccupation with women, femininity
and gender relations. This preoccupation with F matters is
especially manifest within two loci of these literary discourses:
1. Rhetorical devices: metaphors, hyperboles, similes and
repeated idioms.
2. Narrational focalization.3
We shall now proceed to examine the material pertaining to
F figurations in each of the text blocs listed, bearing in mind
that the alleged M discourse in which the figurations feature
might perhaps turn out to contain instances of suppressed,
misquoted or misread F discourses.
Female Figurations in Proverbs

Biblical scholarship has traditionally defined Proverbs as an
M document, presented as recorded speech acts, delivered by
M [elder] teachers to M [younger] recipients for the latter's
educational benefit. This seems to be strongly implied by the
'father's teaching of son' convention recurrent in it. The curi-
ous fact that the book is enveloped at each end by F
figurations and metaphors—the mr4 woman, Woman Wisdom,
and Woman Folly at its beginning, chs. 1-9; the sayings and
images of ch. 30, culminating in the instruction of King
Lemuel's mother and the Worthy Woman acrostic poem of ch.
31—is almost universally attributed to ambivalent male
fascination with females and sex and the utilization of that
3. For the concept of localization', the perspectives through which a

discourse is delivered by its narrator(s) and figures, see M. Bal, Narratology:
An Introduction to the Theory of Narrative (Toronto: Toronto University
Press, 1985).
4. The Hebrew term strongly defies translation. It may denote
'foreign' ethnically or, in a more limited sense, socially; 'strange'; 'liminaT;
or, much more simply, an 'other*. In order to avoid an attempt to clarify
the term, which is not an easy task, I prefer to retain the Hebrew term.
fascination for didactic purposes. This working hypothesis has
heretofore informed all readings of the text, non-feminist and
feminist alike. Even Carol Newsom, who illuminates the
numerous instances of F discourse in Proverbs 1-9 with great
insight, insists that these discourses are 'quoted' within the
dominant frame of M discourse.5 A study made by Fokkelien
van Dijk-Hemmes and myself6 indicates that, on the contrary,
a few grounds can be found in the text for reading at least
this 'envelope' or parts thereof as echoes of direct (in contra-
distinction to 'quoted')7 F voices or discourses. I shall here
summarize some of these grounds, or pointers.
A preoccupation with female figures can cut both ways.
Whether we interpret this textual attitude as signifying male
interest or female interest is a moot point. If it seems simpler,
on this count, to dismiss the attempt to gender texts as
insignificant or unfeasible, such a critical move would exclude
some specific interests that motivate womanly readers of both
sexes. Therefore, wherever applicable, both suggestions for
gender reading should be offered and presented as possessing
equally valid status for the reading procedure.
Attaching gender motivation to positive or negative evalua-
tions of femaleness/femininity, both in evidence in Proverbs
1-9, is not always helpful. I adopt the Hegelian position that
stipulates that, within the pattern of master-slave dynamics,
collaboration with and defence of the dominant (in this case,
M) socio-ethical ideology is often undertaken by the inferior
partner (in this case women) even when not beneficial for the
latter. F voices can be as critical of their own kind as—and
conceivably even more so than—M voices emanating from a
text. The passages about the mi woman and Woman Folly are
instructive in this regard. They can be read as an example of
the internalization of cultural stereotypes by members of both
5. Newsom, 'Woman and the Discourse of Patriarchal Wisdom',

pp. 142-60.
6. Brenner and van Dijk-Hemmes, On Gendering Texts.
1. Admittedly, written literature is, strictly speaking, always 'quoted'.
By 'direct' I here imply a focalizing narrator using a F voice, to be distin-
guished from a narrating M voice that reports F speech and describes F
phenomena.
genders. The attribution of a gendered 'signature' to a text
through an analysis of the seemingly stereotypic role-casting
in it may not yield unequivocal results. A loaded attitude can,
once again, be interpreted both ways. By itself, a value judg-
ment inherent in the presentations of F figurations cannot
serve as a reliable criterion for gendering a text or its
focalizer(s).
The warnings against the mr woman in Proverbs 1-9 (2.16-
19; 5.3-14, 20-23; 6.24-26) reach a climax in the dramatic
'story' of ch. 7. This passage is ostensibly a report delivered by
an onlooker sitting 'at the window*. That onlooking speaker-in-
the-text is commonly identified as a male teacher. Since, apart
from Abimelech (Gen. 26.8), in other biblical instances the
person at the (latticed) window is always a woman depicted as
a wife or mother (Sisera's mother, Judg. 5.28; Michal, 2 Sam.
6.16; Jezebel, 2 Kgs 9.30), there is no reason to assume here
that the literary voice of the (maternal) onlooker belongs to a
M textual speaker.8 The attribution of this warning to a F
voice is at least as feasible as the usual (M attributed) choice;
and it may entail considerable significance for the comprehen-
sion of some, or all, of the passages dealing with the mr. It so
happens that the vexing problematic of the mr woman/
women is far from being satisfactorily resolved by attributing
the image to M voices expressing M fears and a sense of
threat.9 F fears of an Other, an attractive woman, an outsider,
might supply as strong, if not a stronger, motivation for this
textual figuration.
Other considerations for gendering Proverbs texts link up
with the problem of these texts' placement in a conjectured life
8. See van Dijk-Hemmes, The I Persona in Proverbs 7', in On
Gendering Texts t pp. 57-62; and Brenner, ibid., p. 120. It must be stated,
however, that all the female onlookers outside Proverbs are depicted
negatively in the texts cited, whereas in Proverbs, according to my
interpretation, the proposed F figuration epitomizes positive (maternal,
moralistic and moralizing) traits.
9. But cf. Camp's illuminating analyses: Wise and Strange: An
Interpretation of the Female Imagery in Proverbs in Light of Trickster
Mythology", Semeia 42 (1988), pp. 14-36; 'What's so Strange about the
Strange Woman?', in P.L. Day et al. (eds.), The Bible and the Politics of
Exegesis (New York: Pilgrim Press, 1991).
situation that is perhaps reflected in them to a greater or
lesser extent. There is no scholarly consensus about the edu-
cational situation invoked in Proverbs 1-9 and elsewhere in
this Book, beyond the observation of its configuration as a
parent/child relationship.10 Should this conventionalized
description be understood as a metaphorical reference to a
'school' situation? Institutional 'schools' for elite male youth
might be conjectured, but ultimately remain within the realm
of informed speculation. If the natural locus of education is
the home, as reflected in the parent-to-child address, then it
stands to reason that references to maternal as well as pater-
nal authority have to be looked for in the text.11
In fact, 'mother's instruction' is referred to in numerous
passages. Admittedly, within the bound phrase 'father and
mother', 'mother' comes second. However, her instruction is
certainly invoked. Moreover, the description of Woman
Wisdom includes maternal traits,12 and that of the Worthy
Woman, a wife and mother, contains a reference to her
'wisdom' and 'teaching* (nnnn, min, Prov. 31.26). It seems that
in Proverbs, in addition to the father-son teaching convention,
there is also a mother-son (Lemuel's mother, 31.1), perhaps
also a mother-daughter, convention.13 This interpretative
10. See, for instance, M. Haran, 'On the Diffusion of Literacy and
Schools in Ancient Israel', in Congress Volume, Jerusalem 1986 (ed.
J.A Emerton; VTSup, 40; Leiden: Brill, 1988); J. Crenshaw, 'Education in
Ancient Israel', JBL 104 (1985), pp. 601-15.
11. Camp, Wisdom and the Feminine. So also C. Meyers, Discovering
Eve (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), pp. 152-64. She
hypothesizes that both parents were responsible for their children's
acquirement of basic learning skills, and that this responsibility extended
to children of both genders.
12. Such as feeding, training, primary education and general care. Cf.
Camp, Wisdom and the Feminine, and her 'Woman Wisdom as Root
Metaphor: A Theological Consideration', in K.G. Hoglund et al. (eds.), The
Listening Heart: Essays in Wisdom and the Psalms Presented to Roland E.
Murphy (JSOTSup, 58; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1987), pp. 56-76. Also see
Brenner, in On Gendering Texts, pp. 117-19.
13. The Worthy Woman poem (Prov. 31.10-31) is traditionally under-
stood as M praise for a female paragon of virtue, that is, a good wife and
mother by M standards. The collaboration paradigm as well as other
literary (and historical) considerations raise the possibility of 'a woman's
option has previously not been given serious consideration in
either ancient or modern biblical scholarship by anyone apart
from Claudia Camp.
The imaging of Wisdom as daughter is another pointer in
the same direction. It is worth noting how the literary con-
struct of Wisdom as a divine daughter (8.22-31) is contextual-
ized: it is embedded inside the more usual construct of Wisdom
as a teacher/mother (8.1-21, 32-36). The 'daughter' construct
might be read as an oblique reference to a divinely approved
daughterly wisdom (and wisdom in Proverbs is for the most
part the product of education). In order to be meaningful for
its addressees, the figuration of Wisdom as a heavenly
'daughter' must have evoked an extratextual social context to
which they could have related. Whose gender-motivated
vested interest is at stake here—especially when viewed
against the predominantly disparaging postbiblical, Jewish
attitudes toward female learning? The answer is obvious. If
we recognize traces of polemics in favour of F education in
8.22-31, with its attribution of divine origin/authority to
Daughter Wisdom, this recognition might, for instance, enable
us to understand better the process of composition that ulti-
mately produced ch. 8 in its present form.
Inside Proverbs (that is, beyond the boundaries of the Book's
'envelope'), the situation is not much different. Woman's
domestic roles—wife and mother—are discussed in numerous
passages. Exhortations to listen to mother's instruction as well
as to father's (for instance, 23.22-25); warnings against the mr
woman (23.27-28); ostensibly misogynistic sayings about
women's domestic behaviour (27.15; cf. 19.13b; 21.9); evalua-
tions of F married conduct and instructions aimed at women
(14.1)—these and other motifs recur. A worthy woman is her
husband's pride and joy (as in 31.10-31), but an unworthy
one is his disgrace (11.16a, 22; 12.4). The perspective is
always a M perspective; the happiness of finding a suitable
spouse is gender-specific; to obtain a good woman/wife is to
acquire M happiness (18.22). There are no references to a
woman's marital bliss or lack of it, or to a husband's execution
of his marital obligations and its consequences for the woman
instruction to daughter' as the genre membership of this poem.
in his life. Once more, denning the voice behind these andro-
centric statements as a F voice is as feasible as defining it as a
M one for, in order to secure a tenuous position in the male
order of society (from which they are by definition excluded),
women have to adapt to its value system and perspectives.
To conclude: in view of our reconsideration of Proverbs texts
which figure woman, it is proposed that they be re-read with
the dual option of M/F voices, M/F readerly attention, in mind.
Although the textual object (addressee) is almost always male,
this identification cannot be automatically inferred for textual
speaking subjects and/or their narrating voices. The alternative
option of reading a Proverbs text as a F text should be
examined alongside the more traditional mode of a M reading.
Both modes are equally legitimized by different readerly
agendas and concerns. Such a procedure will doubtless prove
beneficial for the comprehension of many texts. In particular,
it might explain the figuration of Wisdom as woman in all
three of the conventional, male-related roles open to her in
patriarchal society: a legitimate and loving spouse (4.8), a
mother, and a daughter; and it might thus enhance our com-
prehension of the mt figuration.
Female Figurations in Job

The female figures in Job have no independent status; their
function is to relate to Job as wife and daughters. The wife is
nameless, and so, to begin with (1.2, 4, 18), are the daughters.
In the Epilogue, however, the new daughters are given
names and surprising legal rights (42.13-15).
In the Prologue, Job's wife is given the unfortunate task of
suggesting that he ends his misfortune by cursing (or blessing)
God and then dying (2.9-10).14 Job's retort is aggressively
14. Commentators differ as to the meaning of her suggestion. Does she

suggest that Job curse God (understanding the Hebrew fin as 'curse'),
thus provoking God to kill Job? Alternatively, does she suggest that Job
bless God, then commit suicide? Since both polarized significations of the
Hebrew 70 are used within the Prologue, it is difficult to decide which
interpretative option is preferable. The response made by the textual Job
facilitates both interpretations.
vehement: he rejects her suggestion on ideo-religious grounds.
She appears, therefore, a foolish and negative foil to her
husband in his total trust in God. Her earthy, materialistic,
commonsense attitude is diametrically opposed to Job's spiri-
tuality. She emblematizes impatience and emotion; he is an
embodiment of pure idealism.15 In that sense, their con-
frontation is a repeat performance of the Garden of Eden
scene (Gen. 2-3) with a 'therapeutic' twist introduced into it.
Contrary to the 'original' scene, here the male is not convinced
by the female's initiative. Thereafter the wife ceases to be a
speaking subject and is transformed into a spoken-of object.
Within Job's great confession (chs. 29-31), she becomes an
object for verbal barter. He swears that if he has committed
adultery in deed or in fantasy then, mutatis mutandis, his
wife should become the sexual property of another, even
others (31.9-12).16 The horror of transgressing patriarchal
socio-sexual mores attributed to the textual Job is highlighted
by the two classes of taboo females mentioned: virgins (31.1)
and married women (v. 9). Thus the nonconformity of the
Poetic Job in other matters does not pervade his conven-
tionalized and conventional attitudes toward women and sex.
It is worth noting that Job's wife is not mentioned again in
the Epilogue, although the birth of a compensatory set of
offspring might lead us to expect that.17
As for Job's daughters, the situation is different. Unnamed
in the Prologue, they partake in family occasions like their
brothers (1.4, 18). In the Epilogue (42.13-15), the new set of
15. For the double equation of F = materialism and nature, M = ide-

alism and religion, see V.L. Erikson, 'Back to Basics: Feminist Social
Theory, Durkheim and Religion', Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion 8
(1992), pp. 35-46.
16. For the sexual connotations of the 'grinding woman' metaphor, cf.
Brenner, in On Gendering Texts, pp. 143-46. Not surprisingly, Job barters
his wife off rather than his own self as punishment/expiation for his denied
transgressions.
17. Hence, Jewish commentators and other ancient authorities specu-
late on her identity, to the point of doing away with Job's original wife (as
punishment for her sinful, doubting conduct) and supplying him with
another.
daughters receives names,18 their physical beauty is singled
out,19 and finally, what is even more surprising, their 'inheri-
tance among their brothers' (v. 15) is established by their
father.
Why are the daughters' namelessness and relative invisibil-
ity reversed, so much so that now we know about them and
their status much more than we know about their brothers?
This is one of the changes introduced by the Epilogue vis-a-
vis the Prologue.20 We encounter a narrational gap here, to be
filled by readers' inferences. The reading of a narrational gap
often facilitates more than a single interpretation. For instance,
Job the pious (of the frame story) might have become a social
reformer. Or, the daughters are juxtaposed with Job's wife,
whose absence (justified in terms of her previous behavior
according to the story's ideocontents) thus becomes more con-
spicuous. Or, viewed against the obvious patriarchal back-
ground of the narrative, wherein daughters' inheritance is
uncommon if not altogether impossible, the detailing of and
emphasis on the daughters' inheritance hint at the implicitly
deconstructive nature of the Epilogue. I prefer the latter
reading for, in my view, Job the pious of the frame narrative
(chs. 1-2; 42.7-17) is ironically presented as a parody/satire on
the 'true believer' figure.21 Finally, it is not clear what the
daughters' inheritance consists of. In the Hebrew Bible mate-
18. Two of them—"iirsp and ~psn pp—are names for cosmetics, while
the third—no'D'—has another connotation and is perhaps related to
Ugaritic yb I mmt limm, 'mistress of peoples'.
19. This feature is, simultaneously, conventional and redundant.
Conventional, for women are often praised for their good looks—hence
attractiveness—in biblical literature, yet ordinarily the description serves
a narrational purpose. Here the description is in a sense redundant, for it
serves no overt (descriptive/motivational) narrational purpose.
20. Other changes are the disappearance of the satan and of Job's
wife.
21. Cf. A. Brenner, 'Job the Pious? The Characterization of Job in the
Narrative Framework of the Book', JSOT 43 (1989), pp. 37-52. In my
opinion Job's description in the frame story—the cluster of adjectives
used, the stereotypical numbers 3 and 7, his unparalleled cultic practice,
the prose style—all point to a Job who is an ironical reversal of his
counterpart in the poetic sections of the Book.
rial inheritance for daughters is a rare exception, the case of
Zelophehad's daughters (Num. 27.1-11; 36.1-12) notwith-
standing.22 It remains to postbiblical literature to adapt these
details to the prevailing social norm. By insisting on the
daughters' spiritual rather than material inheritance, con-
formity is re-achieved and social order restored.23
Female Figurations in Qoheleth

The worldview advanced in Qoheleth, be it essentially either
pragmatic-optimistic or else pragmatic-pessimistic/realistic, or
both,24 is plainly androcentric. The stylistic conventions—the
speaking voice is a M voice; the speech is addressed to a M
target audience—exclude the possibility of a different reading.
Messages (possibly with one exception; see below) are not
directed at a mixed or F audience, although many are rel-
evant for the life and thinking of members of both genders.
Androcentrism does not automatically imply misogyny. Yet,
the figuration of woman as more 'bitter than death' and as a
tempting trap (Qoh. 7.26), presented as a sweeping conclusion
from personal experience,25 is hardly complimentary to a
generalized womankind. A further statement, again delivered
through the rhetorical convention of first-hand experience,
22. Even if we accept this story as a precedent for historical (when?)

juridical practice, it is hardly applicable in the present case, since the
textual Job has sons as well as daughters.
23. So, very clearly, in the Testament of Job; cf. P.W. van der Horst,
Essays on the Jewish World of Early Christianity (Freiburg: Universitat
Verlag, 1990), pp. 94-110. This text also fills the gaps concerning the
disappeared satan and the dismissed wife.
24. See, for instance, R.N. Whybray, Ecclesiastes (OTG; Sheffield:
JSOT Press, 1989), pp. 61-83, with literature cited.
25. F. Zimmermann, The Inner World of Qohelet (New York, 1973),
claims that this and other warnings and views found in Qoheleth stem
from the author's unhappy marital experience expressed by the speaker
in the first-person mode. It seems that Zimmermann assumes a
relatively uncomplex relationship between textual 'reality* and the 'reality5
of human (whose?) experience. Interestingly (albeit indirectly), his inter-
pretation admits to an M gendered reading and constitutive gendering ol
the Qoheleth text.
comments that whereas a 'real' man is one in a thousand, 'a
woman' (presumably one who is reliable/worthy) is not to be
found among those few choice individuals.26 Even if both
sayings are quotations incorporated into the Qoheleth text
(v. 29 reads like a comment on its predecessors; unfortunately,
it is not transparent),27 their misogynistic impact as a compo-
nent of the Qoheleth text is unmistakable. The recommenda-
tion to enjoy life 'with the woman you love' as long as this is
feasible (9.9)28 hardly offsets the previous comments; if any-
thing, it underlines an ambiguity toward woman who, in the
Qoheleth discourse, is allowed an object position (both gramma-
tically and topically) but not a subject position. Furthermore,
within the textual speaker's declared experience of sexual
enjoyment,29 women are related to as objects. Throughout
26. My rendering for the non-specific Hebrew text. While it is not clear
what the reference is to—human integrity in general? loyalty? trust-
worthiness? other virtues?—a reading of less (unspecified) than a 1:1000
ratio for female human integrity, perhaps even no human integrity rating
for women, makes sense. See further for 7.26-29 in M.V. Fox, Qohelet and
his Contradictions (Sheffield: Almond Press, 1989), pp. 241-43. Fox, who
emphasizes the rhetorical device of 'Qohelet' speaking as if to summarize
*his' experience, does not regard this text as misogynistic. To quote: There
is bathos in these words: the result of his search in the lofty realms of
intellect is just this: a woman is dangerous' (p. 241). Fox apparently
means that 'Qohelet' deconstructs 'his' own discourse through this
remark. I would submit that at this point Fox's interpretation is in danger
of deconstructing itself. Is the result of'Qoheleth's' quest—the attempt to
derive comfort from gender relations—so ludicrous by comparison to 'his'
lofty intellectual ideas? Or does Fox mean that finding women dangerous
is the deconstructive component? If the latter obtains, then I concur.
27. For the practice of quoting in Qoheleth, see R.N. Whybray, The
Identification and Use of Quotations in Ecclesiastes', in Congress Volume,
Vienna 1980 (ed. J.A. Emerton; VTSup, 32; Leiden: Brill, 1981), pp. 435-
51; R. Gordis, Koheleth: The Man and his World (New York: Schocken
Books, 1969), pp. 95-108.
28. The Hebrew beyond v. 9a is repetitive and corrupt. Does it condone
a monogamic attachment to one woman throughout a man's life? Does it
advocate love for a suitable woman as an ideal, the only worthwhile thing
in life (so if we follow some versions of the kettb and rea
[v. 9b], fshe [the woman] is your lot in life')?
29. If indeed the obscure phrases in 2.8c onwards refer to that; and ef.
the commentaries for this passage, especially the Hebrew
Qoheleth and 'his' contradictions, this state of affairs never
varies.
I have tried to show elsewhere30 that Qoh. 3.2-8 is a poem
(framed by 3.1 and 3.9) whose primary, albeit covert, subject
matter is desire, sex and gender relations rather than human
time (as it is traditionally interpreted). I also argue that the
poem is one of the few biblical instances of M love lyrics,
possibly aimed at F recipients. Whybray views the passage
differently. He sees it as a list—rather than a poem—which
developed gradually, hence the variations in the style and in
the significations of some key phrases it contains. He rejects a
'sexual' interpretation for the passage's central verse (3.5),
and hence for the whole of it.311 am not convinced by some of
Whybray's critical decisions concerning the passage. Poetry
need not necessarily be precise—variations in significations of
the same words or phrases need neither detract from poetic
impact nor motivate an ascription to another genre. Repetition
is a characteristic feature shared by ancient poetry and lists;
therefore its existence within a passage cannot be construed as
evidence for genre membership this way or the other. Finally,
poetry can be the product of gradual evolvement as much as a
list can. In spite of these objections, I accept Whybray's
analysis of the passage's composition and structure as a model
of erudite and balanced application of scholarly principles.
Female Figurations in the Joseph Narrative,

Esther and Daniel 1-6
The Joseph narrative, Esther and Daniel 1-6 are constructed
along an almost identical paradigm. This paradigm encom-
passes the following recurrent motifs. Against initial odds, a
30. Brenner, in On Gendering Texts, pp. 133-53.

31. R.N. Whybray, '"A Time to be Born and a Time to Die." Some
Observations on Ecclesiastes 3.2-8', in Near Eastern Studies Dedicated to
H.I.M. Prince Takahito Mikasa on the Occasion of his Seventy-Fifth
Birthday (ed. M. Mari, H. Ogawa and M. Yoshikawa; Bulletin of the Middle
Eastern Culture in Japan, 5; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1991),
pp. 469-83. The typescript of this essay was made available to me by
Professor Whybray.
Jew/Hebrew rises to political power in a foreign king's court;
he is a god-fearing individual; his talents, wisdom and divine
inspiration enable a dramatic change in his personal circum-
stances; he is thus able to help others.32 These motifs connect
with sayings in Proverbs and Qoheleth. Instructions on inter-
action with a king (Prov. 16.10-15; Qoh. 8.2-4) and the ideals
of conventional wisdom (Prov. 1.2-7) are central to these nar-
ratives. Curiously, all three contain figurations of woman as
ToreignVOther (mr), from the viewpoint of the narrator and/or
one of the characters. I therefore feel that including these
narratives in the present survey is relevant.
There are three F figurations in the Joseph narrative: a
mother, a mr temptress and a wife. The mother is absent
though present, dead but influential: Jacob's love for his son
Joseph, the love that initiates and motivates the plot, is defined
as an offshoot of his love for the dead Rachel. Nothing is
reported about Joseph's wife Asenath beyond her name and a
statement about her lineage and status as daughter, wife and
mother (Gen. 41.45, 50); it remains for extrabiblical literature
to develop this male-dependent skeleton of a F figuration into
a fuller literary figure.33 By contrast to the brevity accorded to
the mother and wife figurations, a whole chapter depicts the F
temptation embodied in the figure of Potiphar's nameless wife.
When we read Proverbs 7 and Genesis 39 as intertexts, each
of the two texts acquires additional dimensions. Differences
exist, of course. For instance, Potiphar's wife fails in her
project while the mt woman apparently succeeds in imple-
menting hers; cultic overtones may be present in Proverbs 7
(v. 17) but are totally lacking in Genesis 39. The basic paradigm
is nevertheless similar. A nameless married woman desires a
young man. The husband is absent. The woman initiates
action. She tries to seduce the young man. She does so by
speech acts rather than by reliance on her looks—her physical
32. This paradigm underlines Dan. 1-6. Here, however, I shall limit
myself to dealing exclusively with ch. 5, since there are no female
figurations in the other chapters.
33. In Joseph and Asenath she is accorded subject status: her emotions
are fictionalized and her own 'story*, totally absent from the biblical text,
is created.
appearance is not reported.34 She has lust, to be distinguished
from love, in mind. There is a seduction scene of sorts. Be the
male victim willing (Proverbs) or reluctant (Genesis), his
interacting with the woman is detrimental to his well-being:
the young fool's fate is a certain death; he will descend to the
Sheol that awaits him (Prov. 7.23-27); and Joseph finds
himself descending into prison (Gen. 39.20). In both passages,
the woman's narrated behaviour and speech acts are
construed as an affront to the societal norms prescribed by M
marital/moral/religious/sexual codes (Prov. 7.10-13; Gen. 39.8-
10). Significantly, the figuration of the mr seductress is similar
in both passages. Significantly, the desired male's conduct is
the narrated variable factor that effects a different outcome in
each text. Unlike his intertextual counterpart, Joseph does not
succumb to the woman's advances. The reward for this
restraint as well as for his other virtues is great indeed.35
Joseph's apparent descent (into prison) is the beginning of his
ascent (to fame and influence). Prudence, a virtue much
extolled in Proverbs, is wisdom. Genesis 39 reads, then, as a
counterfoil to Proverbs 9. Both texts are equally didactic. The
latter provides a negative lesson, the former a positive one.
The two texts, each with a male protagonist compromised by
34. Apart from in Prov. 6.25. As for Potiphar's wife, we are free to fill in
the missing details—attractiveness, appearance, age, motivation—
according to our personal inclinations. This process of filling in is an
integral part of the reading process; our interpretation of the story as it
unfolds depends on our decision regarding the woman's age. Is she older
than Joseph, thus taking double advantage of his inferior social position?
Younger, which would make for a totally different reading? Of the same
age, which has other repercussions altogether? And so on, inasmuch as
other 'missing' details are concerned.
35. The Joseph story may be considered a Wisdom-type narrative also
because in chs. 37, 39-41 it charts the internal and external journeys
travelled by a young, indiscreet 'fool' toward the maturity, selfhood and
'wisdom' that are the prerequisites for his future success (as in Proverbs).
The encounter with the temptress looks like an integral stage of this
mythic/mythological journey—as in many other myths, and as recognized
by rabbinic Midrash for ch. 39. Cf., for instance, Bereshit Rabbah,
Midrash Tanhuma,Midrash Ha-Gadol, and Yalkut Shim'onifor this
chapter, and also Joseph's Testament in the Testaments of the Twelve
Patriarchs.
an intrusive, uncontrolled and uncontrollable F Other at their
centre, are true companion pieces.36
In the Book of Esther there are three figurations of woman.
All three depict woman as wife: Vashti, a *bad' wife, Esther, a
'good' wife, and Zeresh, a model wife, a wise and knowing
companion to a bad husband.
Vashti and Esther are configured as opposites. Vashti is a
disobedient wife.37 Her punishment is to lose all and be dis-
missed from the story. Chapter 1 emphasizes that Vashti's fate
is to serve as warning for all women to obey their husbands.
Although not a central theme, this warning betrays a deeply
rooted patriarchal worry. Ironically, Vashti's substitute Esther
disobeys the king in coming to see him unbidden (4.11; 5.1-2).
Esther exploits her sexuality in order to manipulate the king
into giving her what she is after. Mordecai virtually pushes
her into the foreign king's bed by forbidding her to disclose
her national origin (2.10, 20).38
And yet, neither Mordecai nor Esther is criticized for his
and her obvious disregard for morality and sexual norms.
36. For a feminist counterreading of Genesis 39 and some extrabiblical

sources that refer to it, see A. Bach, 'Breaking Free of the Biblical Frame-
Up: Uncovering the Woman in Genesis 39', in A. Brenner (ed.), A Feminist
Companion to Genesis (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1993), pp. 318-42.
37. For an early feminist reading of Vashti's refusal to heed the king's
bidding and come to him, cf. E. Cady Stanton (ed.), The Woman's Bible
(New York: European Publishing House, 1898), Part II, pp. 85-88. To
quote: 'Vashti stands out a sublime representative of self-centred woman-
hood. Rising to the heights of self-consciousness and of self-respect, she
takes her soul into her own keeping, and though her position both as wife
and as queen are jeopardized, she remains true...' (p. 88).
No reason for Vashti's refusal is supplied by the MT. Hence, her dis-
obedience seems all the more arbitrary. This narrational gap (omission?)
serves the patriarchal concern underlying the story well. In the case of a
wife's disobedience, no reasons are relevant. Vashti's refusal, within the
ideocontents of the story, is sufficient reason for her dismissal in favour of
a more suitable successor. The rabbinic speculations on the reasons for
Vashti's refusal are amusingly fanciful but have no basis in the biblical
text. Furthermore, they miss the point. Gap-filling at this juncture would
obscure the story's concern.
38. Esther's daughterly obedience to Mordecai, her adoptive 'father*, is
throughout one of her sterling virtues.
Why, then, does Esther—certainly a mr woman in the king's
court, and evidently a skilled manipulator of male sexuality
and judgment—receive a better treatment than Vashti and
their F counterparts in Proverbs and Genesis? Perhaps
because she practises her sexual manipulations discreetly
rather than publicly, and on her husband only; or because of
her obedience to Mordecai and loyalty to her ethnic source
group. Ultimately Esther too disappears from the story when
her task is accomplished. Having been used by men to cater to
their ambitions and plans and to realize them, she exits the
stage after her mission is accomplished, leaving Mordecai and
Ahasuerus to run the kingdom (ch. 10). Thus are M propri-
eties observed. Whether Esther is a role model for F readers,
feminist or otherwise, to emulate remains a matter of personal
sensibility.
In Daniel 5 the foreign king commits sacrilege by using the
Jerusalem Temple utensils during a feast (w. 1-4).39 Nobody
understands the writing on the wall. Everybody, including
the king, is horrified, frightened, powerless to do anything
(w. 6-9). The unnamed40 queen is the only intelligent person
around. She quietly and tactfully suggests that Daniel be sent
for in order to solve the mystery, and her counsel proves
sound (vv. 10-12). Her conduct stands in stark contrast to that
of the males around her, her royal spouse included. Is she
given the gift of unhysterical counsel in order to highlight the
stupidity of her fictive husband and his companions, who—to
their shame—behave like stereotypic frightened women, and
therefore need a woman's wisdom to reorient them? Be that as
it may, the queen's figure is reminiscent of the Wisdom figure
in Proverbs and the 'wise woman' figures of 2 Samuel 14 and
20. Thus, at the end of our survey we once more encounter
two figurations of woman that are central to Proverbs—
39. Is there a hint for something more sinister than a regular banquet
or feast, with a strong element of sexual licence? The presence of'women
and concubines' (Aramaic: nrorfpi nrfao), which is emphasized by repetition
(w. 2, 3), is suggestive for such an interpretation.
40. Once more a 'foreign' woman remains unnamed, although her
fictive husband is named. It is worth recalling that this convention of
unnaming recurs also in Prov. 7 and Gen. 39.
Woman Wisdom and the mt woman. This time, however, the
two figurations are fused. A mr woman is depicted as a true
marital helpmate, 'wise' in the Proverbs sense. And this leads
us back to the discussion (not undertaken here) about the
wisdom traits ascribed—unwittingly? but certainly ambiva-
lently—to the mr woman, and the potential of these traits for
clarifying the (gender) motivation and sense that underline
this important F figuration.41
41. Cf. Camp, Wise and Strange'. The present study was written in
Utrecht, The Netherlands, where I spent six months as Belle van Zuylen
Professor in the Faculty of Theology, The University of Utrecht. My
thanks to the staff and faculty members, who made my stay pleasant
and conducive to work.
THE GOOD NEIGHBOUR IN THE BOOK OF PROVERBS
Ronald E. Clements
It is a marked feature of the Book of Proverbs that it portrays

a noticeably different kind of social and community structure
among those it addresses from that which pertains to the long
narrative units of the Hebrew Bible. Whereas in the latter the
genealogies and forms of address emphasize the large
extended families of the bet 'dbot and its tribal affiliations,1
the proverbial teaching focuses its attention upon the house-
hold and the city. When cities flourish, then their inhabitants
prosper, and when the city is well and justly governed, then
its citizens rejoice (Prov. 11.10-11). Similarly the household is
the primary sphere of blessing.2 It forms a largely self-
contained economic unit in which all stand to prosper or fall to
ruin together. Geography, rather than kinship affiliation,
appears to be the controlling factor in social relationships and
the household does not normally lift its horizons temporally
beyond the welfare of grandchildren (cf. Prov. 13.22; 17.6), nor
laterally beyond those of brothers and sisters (Prov. 17.17; etc.).
Yet social relationships form a major area of preoccupation
for the wisdom teachers, since it is in this sphere that the
moral dictates of wise conduct display their immense import-
ance for the quality of life enjoyed by any community.
Accordingly, the internal dynamics of family life, governing
1. For the social structure of ancient Israel and the importance of the
bet 'abdt I am especially indebted to J.W. Rogerson's study of 'Social
Organization', in J.W. Rogerson and P.R. Davies, The World of the Old
Testament (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), pp. 45-62.
2. Cf. my study of the importance of the household as a central locus
for the operation of wisdom in Wisdom in Theology (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 1993), pp. 123-50.
relationships between husband, wife and their offspring,
provide a primary focus for wisdom's admonitions to address.
Thereafter the immediate first consequence of this life within
the household of the family unit concerns behaviour towards
the adjoining community of the immediate neighbourhood. It
is not surprising therefore that the concept of the 'neighbour*
appears in a very prominent measure in the Book of Proverbs.
The question of how the individual should behave towards his
or her neighbours provides a topic on which a great deal of
advice is given.
However, much of the moral force of this intense concern
with relationships with the anonymous 'neighbour' becomes
lost in most English versions of the Bible in view of the wide-
spread practice of translating the Hebrew rea' as 'friend'. The
context is allowed to determine which noun best fits the situa-
tion envisaged. In some instances this is undoubtedly appro-
priate, since the ideal of the close and supportive 'neighbour*
does elevate such a person to the status of a true friend. In
many instances, however, it seems clear that the goal of the
wisdom teachers lay beyond commenting upon the virtue of
making and preserving friendships. They were rather striving
to arouse a strong community spirit and code of behaviour, in
which 'neighbours' would become 'friends'.
Friends, in the fullest sense, may be few in number, and to
show love towards them may be easy. In any case they are
usually established through personal choice. Neighbours are
more numerous and intrude their presence through geography
and the chance encounters of work and travel.3 To learn to
love them may be more difficult and demanding. It is our
concern therefore to note that the convention of translating
rea' by the English noun 'friend', in many of its occurrences in
the Book of Proverbs, has served to weaken substantially the
moral relevance of what the ancient wisdom teachers were
arguing for.
There is a further reason why the teaching of the wisdom
3. J. Fichtner, 'Der Begriff des "Nachsten" im Alten Testament', in

Gottes Weisheit: Gesammelte Studien zum Alten Testament (ed.
K.D. Fricke; Arbeiten zur Theologie, II/3; Stuttgart: Calwer Verlag, 1965),
pp. 88-114; cf. also D. Kellermann, 'rea", ThWAT, VII, cols. 545-55.
CLEMENTS The Good Neighbour in Proverbs 211
teachers regarding conduct towards a neighbour deserves
careful attention in the context of the study of biblical ethics.
In the New Testament the command 'to love one's neighbour
as oneself is elevated in the teaching of Jesus to the highest
and most comprehensive level as a summary of the goal of
Jewish tora, second only in importance to the command to
love God (Lk. 10.27). The exposition in the Parable of the
Good Samaritan, which follows this (Lk. 10.29-37), proceeds to
expound the purport of this command by demonstrating that
relationships between 'neighbours' should include those
between Jews and Samaritans. The Samaritan recognized the
distressed Jewish traveller to be a 'neighbour', although he
was certainly not a 'friend'! We should also note that, in the
Book of Proverbs, the narrower ideal of a friend is more pre-
cisely revealed by the term 'oheb, 'one who loves', besides
which the notion of a 'companion' ('allup) is also found.
That the Old Testament background to this New Testament
commandment is to be sought in the admonition set out in
Lev. 19.18 is clearly correct, so far as the verbal composition of
the New Testament text is concerned.4 However, the contri-
bution made by the Old Testament wisdom tradition should
not be overlooked to the extent that it has been. Nowhere in
the Hebrew Bible is the issue of conduct towards a neighbour
more fully explored than in the Book of Proverbs. This
undoubtedly reflects the kind of social environment in which
the wisdom teachers found themselves. The influence of the
extended family in the form of the bet 'abot was greatly
diminished, whereas urban life and work patterns made the
ideal of good community relationships in a neighbourhood of
prime importance. Consequently it mattered greatly to define
a standard of good conduct towards a neighbour.
In the light of this it seems clear that much of what the
advocates of wisdom were commending in behaviour towards
neighbours achieved its greatest moral force when such
persons were not narrowly recognized as close friends. The
4. Cf. H.-P. Mathys, Liebe deinen Nachsten wie dich selbst:

Untersuchungen zum alttestamentlichen Gebot der Nachstenliebe (Lev.
19,18) (OBO, 71; Freiburg: Universitatsverlag; Gottingen: Vandenhoeck
& Ruprecht, 1986).
New Testament's extension of this definition of 'neighbour*, to
apply it in a very wide sense, moves firmly along a path
already marked out in Proverbs.
Clearly it is impossible for the modern scholar to define,
either in regard to Lev. 19.18 or to the teaching of the Book of
Proverbs, how far the concept of 'the neighbour* was origi-
nally intended to apply, since it is so evidently left open.5 It is
not made clear whether it could embrace members of the
community who stood outside a fundamental religious loyalty
to Jewish tradition, as the Samaritan of the Lukan parable so
obviously did. Nor is it explicit whether some element of recip-
rocal warmth and friendship was required before a truly
neighbourly obligation was established. However, it is the
very indeterminacy and openness of the concept that makes
the extensive range of advice concerning the neighbour such
an interesting feature of the Book of Proverbs. The book
raises, even if it does not answer, the question raised by the
lawyer in the parable, 'And who is my neighbour?' (Lk. 10.27).
We find that, in the edited collection of the book, there are
no less than 39 instances where conduct towards a neighbour
is either made a subject for comment and reflection, or is
focused upon as a topic requiring positive advice. Apart from
the relatively obvious and properly expected warning not to
sleep with a neighbour's wife in Prov. 6.29, the remaining
admonitions fall fairly clearly into three categories.
The first of these concerns the situation of a neighbour in
need and serves most fully to identify why it is that being a
'neighbour' is so important to the community at large. The
second category concerns wealth, or the lack of it, and serves
richly to demonstrate that, among all the factors in the struc-
ture of society that brought stress and served to undermine
the concept of neighbourliness, that of the difference between
5. M. Buber (Two Types of Faith [trans. N.P. Goldhawk; London:

Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1951], p. 70) took it in a very wide sense to
apply to those 'with whom thou hast to to do at any time in the course of
thy life'. No doubt this imposes a very broad sense upon the command,
but, as also in the Book of Proverbs, much of the moral strength of what
is advocated arises from the fact that the concept of neighbour cannot be
circumscribed by an arbitrarily narrow definition.
wealth and poverty was the most markedly intractable and
insurmountable. Possessing wealth made neighbourliness easy,
whereas lacking it made it very difficult. Within the horizons
of the wisdom teachers this fact provided a central point of
attention. The third category of advice and warning concerns
speech. What was said to, or more often apparently about,
one's neighbours could have the most long-lived and far-
reaching consequences. Foolish talk could prevent the
possibility of making neighbours into friends.
There is a further reason for making the wisdom teachers'
interest in the ideal of 'the good neighbour* a topic of particular
attention. It is their approval of the existence of a juridical
legal system alongside their strong support for a self-motivated
and voluntaristic 'private' morality that lay outside this. In
regard to the former, the necessary existence of such a system
is fully endorsed and approved in the sapiential tradition, and
is occasionally commented upon. In regard to the latter, the
limitations of this legal system are frankly recognized: its
susceptibility to manipulation is conceded, and the true
student of wisdom is advised to avoid becoming entangled in
its web. On this front the teaching of Proverbs very much falls
into line with the admonitory injunction of Lev. 19.18. A loving
attitude towards one's fellow citizens is regarded as vital
towards enabling the law to operate justly and constructively.
From the perspective of wisdom, this concern to reach
beyond the morality of the official legal processes is note-
worthy in view of the emphatic presentation given to the ideal
of King Solomon's wisdom as supremely manifested in his
juridical insight. The order of wisdom is built upon a concept
of law. Furthermore, the role of the king, so heartily com-
mended and supported by the earliest wisdom, is presented as
fundamental to this system of legal justice. Yet, alongside this,
the wisdom teachers' efforts to inculcate a proper neighbourly
attitude strive to reach well beyond the minimal morality that
is the best that the law could hope to offer.
The Neighbour in Need

A short 'Charter of Neighbourly Conduct' is set out in Prov.
3.27-30, in which the fundamental attitudes to be adopted are
described:
Do not withhold good from those in need of it,
when you are able to do so.
Do not say to your neighbour, 'Go away and come back another
time,
I will give it to you tomorrow'—although you have it with
you.
Do not plan harm against your neighbour
who is living trustingly beside you.
Do not pick a quarrel with anyone without cause,
when no harm has been done to you (3.27-30).
Perhaps even worse than bringing needless trouble to a
neighbour is the possibility of leading them astray into
following one's own perverse and misguided behaviour:
A violent person deceives his neighbour,
and leads him on a path that is not good (16.29).6
It is then a characteristic of wicked persons that they show no
such scruples about respect for a neighbour, but instead set
out to make trouble and show no restraint in doing so:
The wicked like to cause trouble;
their neighbours receive no mercy from them (21.10).
The converse of this is firmly endorsed by the teachers of wis-
dom: the advice of the righteous is a boon to their neighbours:
A righteous person shows his neighbour the way,7
but the path of wrongdoers leads astray (12.26).
6. W. McKane (Proverbs: A New Approach [OTL; SCM Press, 1970],

p. 494) comments: 'He employs deceit in order to achieve his destructive
ends'. The main point, however, would appear to lie in the fact that such a
violent person hides his true nature under a cloak of neighbourliness.
7. The Hebrew verb is uncertain and this translation follows that of
McKane, Proverbs, pp. 447-78. J.A. Emerton, 'A Note on Proverbs xii. 26',
ZAW 76 (1964), pp. 191-92, takes as 'is delivered from harm'. NRSV
has 'gives good advice to friends', which follows the interpretation of
McKane.
It reveals much about the social and moral context in which
wisdom expected to operate that it raises the concept of the
neighbour to a level equivalent to, and sometimes even more
important than, that of the closest kin relative:
A neighbour loves at all times,
and a brother is born to share adversity (17.17).
The point of the saying would appear to be to raise the status
of the neighbour to the level of a brother, traditionally
regarded as the highest and most supportive of all human
kinship ties.8
A good summarizing admonition regarding the importance
of maintaining loyalty to neighbours of long standing is set
out in Prov. 27.10:
Do not forsake your neighbour or your father's neighbour,
and do not go to your brother's house in the day of your
misfortune.
A neighbour who is nearby is better
than a brother who is far away (27.10).
Clearly there appears to be little connection at first between
the injunction not to abandon a long-standing family neigh-
bour and the advice not to burden a brother at a time of
misfortune. McKane comments: The injunction not to neglect
an old friend of the family has no intrinsic connection with
the observation that a neighbour who is on the doorstep is a
bigger help than a brother who is at a distance'.9 C.H. Toy
feels the dismissive attitude towards a brother's help even
more acutely.10 Yet once the importance within the wisdom
tradition of attaching the highest level of significance to a
good neighbourly relationship is recognized, the connection
becomes clear and is precisely as stated in the concluding line.
8. So B. Gemser, Spriiche Salomos (HAT, 16; Tubingen: J.C.B. Mohr,

2nd edn, 1963), p. 73. McKane's rendering, 'A companion is always good
company*, is simply a tautology and leaves little moral force in what is
affirmed (Proverbs, pp. 237, 505-506).
9. McKane, Proverbs, p. 614.
10. Toy, Proverbs, p. 486: The text must be regarded as defective, or
the clause must be taken as a gloss inserted by some scribe whose
experience had made him bitter against brothers...'(!).
With a good neighbour who is nearby, and who can be relied
upon for support, even the help of a brother will not be
needed in a time of adversity. The intention then is not to be
dismissive of a brother's responsibility and ability to help, but
rather to suggest that, even at a time of personal misfortune,
a good neighbour can be as supportive as a brother. The help
at hand is greater than the potential help from a distance,
provided the neighbour who lives close by lives up to the ideal.
If we have correctly grasped the sense of Prov. 27.10, it
further strengthens the contention that it is the value of the
spiritual support of a true neighbour that is extolled in 27.9:
Perfume and incense soothe the mind;
and the sweetness of a neighbour is better than one's own
counsel (27.9).11
The teachers of wisdom have striven hard to elevate the
responsibilities and role of 'the good neighbour', in recog-
nizing that circumstances will often limit the support-potential
of the immediate family kin-group. This must surely have
arisen on the basis of the greatly changed patterns of social
structure and domicile in the society to which such instruc-
tions were addressed. This altered social structure—in which
the kin-group was much smaller and the extended family no
longer a primary reference for economic, moral and spiritual
support—has encouraged a greatly enhanced 'neighbour
awareness'.
This changed social awareness is very distinctive of the
wisdom teaching, since it recognizes the relativizing, and
partial atrophy, of a system of moral values in which feelings
of kinship and family obligation were paramount. The concept
of kinship loyalty undoubtedly lies at the heart of the older
Israelite family and tribal structure. Mutual support through
the notion of g?'ulla> protection,12 and where necessary the
exaction of vengeance, had made the extended family the most
11. Cf. NRSV margin; McKane (Proverbs, pp. 612-13) suggests: 'and the
sweetness of a friendship strengthens the spirit'. Similarly also O. Plo'ger,
Spriiche Salomos (Proverbia) (BKAT, 17; Neukirchen-Vluyn:
Neukirchener Verlag, 1983), pp. 317, 322-23.
12. For this notion of family protection and vengeance, cf. Rogerson, in
The World of the Old Testament, pp. 47-49.
influential unit of moral and economic life. The Deuteronomic
legislation, with its fundamentally urbanizing and centralizing
tendencies,13 sought to deal with this reduction in the power
of the older clans and tribes in another way. It aimed to
extend the concept of'brotherhood' to every fellow-Israelite.14
The wisdom teaching, however, moves hi a different direction
by envisaging the notion that 'neighbourliness' could be more
important than the protection and support of even a person's
most immediate kin:
Some neighbours play at friendship,15
but there is a friend Coheb) who sticks closer than a
brother (18.24).
The Hebrew verb of the first line is of uncertain meaning and
derivation, but the sense given here appears to be on the right
lines (cf. NRSV). RSV has 'who pretend to be friends'. Hence
the contrast is made between those who give only the outward
appearance of friendship and neighbourliness and those who
display the full depth of support that such a relationship
demands. The instruction urges recognition that true neigh-
bourliness establishes bonds of loyalty and support exceeding
what might be expected even of a brother. This is precisely
what I have suggested is the deeper intent of Prov. 27.10.
From the perspective of the Christian development of the
Hebrew wisdom tradition, it is doubly unfortunate that the
meaning of Prov. 22.11 is very uncertain. The rendering
adopted by NRSV accords with a wide tradition, and has the
support of many commentators:
13. Cf. my comments in Deuteronomy (OTG; Sheffield: JSOT Press,

1988), pp. 85-93.
14. Cf. Deut. 15.3, 7, 9; etc., and see L. Perlitt, 'Bin einzig Volk von
Briidern', in Kirche: Festschrift G. Bornkamm zum 75. Geburtstag (ed.
D. Luhrmann and G. Strecker; Tubingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1980), pp. 7-52.
15. McKane (Proverbs, pp. 239, 518-20) renders: There is a companion
who does nothing but chatter', recognizing the difficulty with the Hebrew
verb. This follows G.R. Driver, 'Problems in the Hebrew Text of Proverbs',
Bib 32 (1951), pp. 173-97 (196), but such a translation appears to
trivialize what is affirmed. Toy's '...they seek only society* (Proverbs,
p. 367) is more plausible in that it suggests the idea that some friends
enjoy the friendship, but do not really help in time of need.
Those who love a pure heart and are gracious in speech
will have the king as a friend (22.11, NRSV).
The use of the concept of 'a pure heart' connects the saying
with the beatitude of Mt. 5.8, where those who display such a
character are accorded the ultimate assurance—'they will see
God'. Such 'purity of heart' must refer to a complete integrity of
purpose and consistency of conduct, rejecting all deviousness
and hiddenness of motive, which the wisdom teachers deplored.
The link with the Matthaean tradition becomes all the closer
when we note that the Septuagint translates: The Lord loves
the pure in heart; all who are blameless in their ways are
acceptable to him'. It seems likely that the ancient translator's
introduction of'Lord' is an interpretation of'king*, rather than
being based on a different reading in the Hebrew.16 However,
in the process, the link with the New Testament beatitude
becomes all the closer. The meaning of the original Hebrew is
in any case difficult, and, if the NRSV's rendering is adopted,
the sense must be: those who display true integrity of attitude
and graciousness of speech are worthy of the most honoured
neighbours. McKane, however, prefers to see in the saying a
commendation of the kind of person that a king would regard
with favour (as a servant?).17 Yet surely the larger context of
such sayings points us toward the recognition that this is
another saying about good neighbourly behaviour, rather
than about royal preferences.
When we seek to summarize what is said in Proverbs about
what constitutes appropriate behaviour towards a neighbour
in need, it strongly points in the direction of understanding
that 'neighbour' is to be construed in a wider, rather than a
narrower, sense. The situation of need, rather than ties of
friendship, determines the appropriate mode of behaviour.
Wealth and Neighbourliness

If being a neighbour could be established by the purely
chance factor of living together in a small community, or of
16. Cf. McKane, Proverbs, pp. 567-68.
17. McKane (Proverbs, pp. 245, 567-68) translates: 'A king loves a
man with a pure mind, the grace of his speech (meets) his approval'.
working with other persons, or even through the unforeseen
events of daily life, then clearly many eventualities could
obtrude to make neighbourliness difficult.18 In this regard it is
noteworthy that the wisdom teachers drew special attention to
the stress imposed on neighbourly conduct by the social
contrasts of wealth and poverty:
Wealth brings many neighbours,
but a poor man is separated from his neighbour (19.4).
Many seek the favour of a nobleman,
and everyone is a neighbour to someone who gives gifts
(19.6).
A poor man is hated even by his brothers,
how much more do his neighbours shun him! (19.7).
The negative implications in Prov. 19.4 and 19.7 take on
further emphasis with the rendering of rea' as 'friend', rather
than 'neighbour' (so NRSV), since this reinforces the sense of
social alienation that poverty brings upon any members of the
community who are unfortunate enough to become its victims.
Even erstwhile friends and kinsfolk found it hard to remain
supportive and neighbourly towards one who had lost economic
independence and influence in the community. All the more
would this have been the case for someone who fell suddenly
upon hard times through a commercial misadventure or
through acceptance of an unwise financial commitment. It is
not surprising, therefore, to discover that the wise had much
to say about the social consequences of economic activity,
especially if such activity were undertaken recklessly or
deceitfully (cf. Prov. 13.11; 28.22).
Like the sentences of Prov. 14.31 and 17.5, the comments
regarding poor neighbours contain an implied rebuke of those
who take advantage of such misfortune, or who indulge in a
degree of Schadenfreude (cf. Prov. 22.7, 22-23)! In a society
where misfortune and unpremeditated ruin could happen to
even the hard-working and upright members, a degree of
empathy with the poor was at least demanded.
18. The prominent role given to matters of wealth and poverty in

Proverbs is shown in R.N. Whybray, Wealth and Poverty in the Book of
Proverbs (JSOTSup, 115; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991), passim.
In this regard it is evident that the wisdom teachers were
intent upon reporting the kind of conduct that was usually
displayed towards such social contrasts in order to urge a
more deeply considered alternative:
A poor person is disliked even by his neighbour,
but there are many friends for the rich (14.20).
The following verse of sentence instruction spells out in a
clearly admonitory fashion what the wisdom teachers regarded
as the right and wrong ways of dealing with such a situation:
Whoever despises his neighbour goes astray,
but those who are kind to the afflicted are blessed (14.21).
A sympathetic attitude towards the needs of poor neighbours
quite evidently required a measure of courage and indepen-
dence, as well as a willingness to make sacrifices oneself. There
were, however, clearly limits to neighbourliness, particularly
where economic matters were concerned. With wealth at one's
own disposal it was evidently not difficult to make friends out
of neighbours. But there were also serious risks to one's own
household, if anxiety to help a neighbour led one to take on
unwise commitments on his or her behalf.
The wisdom teachers went to considerable trouble to draw
attention to these risks and to dissuade the well-intentioned
neighbour from undertaking any major financial commitment
on behalf of another. Accordingly they set themselves firmly
against the policy of becoming surety for a neighbour:
Only one who lacks sense strikes hands,
and goes surety on behalf of a neighbour (17.18).
So strongly was this matter felt to be that it is made the
subject of a much longer, and even more forcibly worded,
warning in Prov. 6.1-3:
My son, if you have given surety to your neighbour,
and have made agreement on behalf of a stranger,
you are snared by your own words,
trapped by what you yourself have said.
Do this, then, my son, and save yourself,
for you have fallen into your neighbour's power.
Go, swallow your pride19 and importune your neighbour.
To escape the consequences of an unwise, or insufficiently
thought through, commitment of this nature, the pupil of
wisdom is urged to hasten immediately and withdraw from
such an obligation:
Give your eyes no sleep
and your eyelids no rest;
save yourself like a gazelle from its pursuer,
like a bird from the hand of the trapper! (6.4-5).
If it was unwise to put one's own household economy at risk
on behalf of a neighbour, then clearly it was even more fool-
hardy and dangerous to do so on behalf of a stranger to the
community:
Whoever goes surety for a stranger will suffer for it,
but the one who hates pledges will be secure (Prov. 11.15;
cf. 20.16).
Probably the fervent nature of such warnings reveals more
about the harsh economic realities of life in ancient Israel and
its precarious foundations, than about the goodwill required
for neighbourly behaviour. With usury rife, mercantile enter-
prise uncertain at best, and daily life inevitably posing
unforeseen hazards, to say nothing of the possible risk of
unneighbourly deceitfulness, staking one's own wealth upon
the uncertainties of another's was deemed to be not worth the
risk. It is then a marked characteristic of the way in which the
wise viewed economic matters that risks attendant upon these
were felt to be best kept within one's own household.
The forceful way in which this caution is urged must surely
indicate that it was founded on widespread experience.
Perhaps this arose because, in giving surety on behalf of
another, the degree of risk to one's own property was often
not fully appreciated. More probably, however, it seems likely
that the interaction of economic pressures in the biblical world
was very inadequately grasped. When one family was put
19. Cf. McKane, Proverbs, pp. 218, 322.

under economic strain, it is likely that others were faced with
similar risks. Consequently it was better to limit the risk to one
household, rather than for others to make public commitments
that could all too easily spread the disaster, rather than
contain it!
Neighbourliness and Talkativeness

If wealth and poverty are singled out as an area in which the
ideal of 'the good neighbour' could easily be placed under
strain, then speech and talkativeness are highlighted even
more forcibly as an area requiring the greatest caution.
Already Prov. 14.21 strongly hints in the direction that finding
oneself faced with a poor neighbour could provide an occasion
for despising him or her. It was then but a step to proceed to
make such feelings public by belittling such a person:
Whoever belittles a neighbour lacks sense,
but a person of intelligence keeps quiet (11.12).
Of course the temptation to belittle another could arise over
matters other than economic ones, and a whole range of bad
relationships could be sparked off by malicious whisperings or
unwise gossip (Prov. 11.13). There was, indeed, no easier way
to separate close friends than by spreading malicious talk
about them (Prov. 16.28). In this area a strong resilience and
a willingness to forgive become very important:
Whoever forgives an offence seeks love,
but the person who dwells on a matter will alienate a
companion ('all&p) (17.9).
Displaying wisdom required a measure of considerate circum-
spection. Accordingly, it was foolish to go too often into a
neighbour's house, so as to become a nuisance and an intruder:
Hold back your foot from your neighbour's house,
lest your neighbour become weary of you and hate you
(25.17).
Equally in other ways it was possible, by unwise conduct, to
offend a neighbour and so forfeit the possibility of establishing
a satisfactory relationship:
Whoever blesses his neighbour with a loud voice
(rising early in the morning)
will be counted as cursing (27.14).
Although the sentence instruction here addresses a very
specific pattern of conduct, it was no doubt intended to apply
more generally to related behaviour patterns. With several
commentators, we should probably delete the clause in paren-
thesis as a gloss, since it adds a second reason for the
unwisdom of the action that is condemned. It is not that the
praise is spoken at the wrong time, but rather that it is spoken
for others to hear, and with the obvious intent of impressing
them, so that it lacks sincerity. Similar kinds of ill-considered
conduct are rebuked with the warning:
Like a madman who shoots deadly firebrands and arrows,
so is the person who deceives a neighbour
and says, 'It is only a joke!' (26.18-19).
It is not made clear in this whether the situation envisaged
was one in which the deceit was intentional, but was
unmasked so that the perpetrator attempted to pass off such
bad conduct as a joke, or whether what was intended from the
outset as a joke was very ill considered and inappropriate. In
either case, the admonition appears aimed at insincerity in
relationships with a neighbour. It seeks to discourage any
conduct that fails to treat neighbourly relationships with the
seriousness and respect that they deserve.
This is certainly the purport of the warning against flattery:
Whoever speaks smooth words to his neighbour
is spreading a net about his feet (29.5).
NRSV is careful here to spell out explicitly that the net is
placed around the feet of the person who is the subject of the
flattery. It is a warning that such smooth words are not meant
sincerely and are designed to trap the victim.
The overall impact of these instructions, couched in the form
of statements defining various community situations, is to
urge a constant degree of awareness that good relationships
with neighbours mattered greatly. What was said between,
and about, neighbours, was considered to lie at the very heart
of good neighbourly relationships. To treat them lightly, or to
attempt to belittle or manipulate a neighbour, was to endanger
the fundamental trust and goodwill between those who lived
in close proximity to one another. Without such trust, a healthy
social environment could not be established, and where there
was no such feeling of interdependence and solidarity (hesedj*0
the very foundations of morality would be undermined.
It is in this respect that the conventional translation of rea'
as 'friend' falls short of expressing the full range of moral
concern that the wisdom teachers were advocating. Such a
translation suggests that what is set out here in regard to
speech belongs properly in the category of counsel on *how to
win friends'. Yet it is very evident from the attention focused
on the idea of 'the neighbour' that the wise were anxious for
more than the encouragement of healthy friendships. They
wanted a stable and mutually supportive community!
The wise were anxious to re-establish, on the basis of a code
of neighbourly conduct, the mutual commitment and support
that old Israel had found in the extended family and its
network of protection. Against such a background we may
look for a deeper meaning behind the rhetorical question of
Prov. 20.6:
Many proclaim themselves loyal,
but who can find one worthy of trust? (20.6).21
If, in its origins, the notion of 'loyalty' did not necessarily
imply a nationwide commitment to the entire covenant com-
munity, but rather suggested no more than loyalty to one's
immediate family and kin, then the rhetoric is very meaning-
ful. Loyalty, when narrowly conceived and focused on the
family, could appear morally virtuous, but yet fail to motivate
a larger and more practical community ethic. It might even
20. The importance of such a feeling of group loyalty as a basic ethical

requirement is set out in K. Doob Sakenfeld, Faithfulness in Action: Loyalty
in Biblical Perspective (Overtures to Biblical Theology; Philadelphia:
Fortress Press, 1985), cf. especially 'Loyalty: The Calling of the People of
God', pp. 101-30.
21. Cf. McKane, Proverbs, pp. 241, 545: 'Many a man proclaims his
loyalty, but who can find a faithful friend!' However, it would appear that
the instruction is not primarily about the quality of friendship, but about
the lack of real earnestness and commitment in community relationships.
undermine it! Only by questioning such traditionally conceived
values, as the wisdom teachers appear to have been
attempting, was it possible to establish a set of moral values
appropriate to society as it was actually experienced.
Accordingly, good neighbourly relationships were not simply
about 'making friends', but were directly concerned with the
larger realm of moral obligations to society as a whole. It is
against such a background that we can understand the desire
of the wisdom teachers to keep matters out of court when
neighbours quarrelled. However just the process of law
endeavoured to be, founded as it was upon the notion of royal
justice, such a system clearly had its limitations:
What your eyes have seen
do not hastily bring into court;
for what will you do in the end
when your neighbour puts you to shame (25.8)?
Admittedly the precise reasoning here is not easy to follow,
but the implication seems clear. Do not rush to bring a charge
against a neighbour; it may well rebound upon you! The
problem of Vexatious litigation', and the temptation to resort
to the law in order to resolve neighbourly disputes, could come
back onto the head of the over-hasty complainant. This attitude
of great caution towards lawsuits and their consequences also
appears in the admonition that follows in Prov. 25.9-10:
Argue out your own dispute with your neighbour,
and do not reveal another's secret;
or else someone who hears you will put you to shame,
and your bad reputation will have no end (25.9-10).22
22, Earlier commentators such as C.H. Toy and B. Gemser follow the
interpretation suggested by the translation of Symmachus which does
not envisage a reference here to the taking of legal action, but only to the
spreading of gossip and rumour among the community. Cf. Toy, Proverbs,
pp. 460-61: 'Instead of a warning against lawsuits or quarrels we thus
have a caution against gossip'. However, McKane (Proverbs, pp. 250,580-
81) is surely correct in seeing here either over-hasty recourse to a court of
law, or at least foolish talking about what takes place in legal proceedings.
Cf. Driver, 'Problems', p. 190, and NRSVs rendering, 'Do not hastily bring
into court'.
It is certainly worthy of note in regard to these admonitions
urging a reluctance to press a lawsuit, that the ill-judged con-
sequences of doing so are defined in terms of public
humiliation. Although the penalties of suffering disgrace and
shame are widely prominent elsewhere in the Old Testament
as a major social threat, especially hi the psalms and prophetic
literature, they provide only a very limited sanction for the
wise. Of the relatively few occurrences of the threats of shame
in Proverbs, almost all of them refer either to the son or the
wife who brings shame (cf. Prov. 10.5; 12.4 [wife]; 17.2; 19.26;
29.15 [children]).
It is therefore particularly noteworthy that hasty resort to
press a lawsuit against a neighbour is resisted by the teachers
of wisdom on the grounds that such action may well bring
humiliation to the complainant. Two concerns appear to have
fostered such advice. Any formal appeal to legal proceedings
necessarily widened the dispute and magnified its seriousness.
Furthermore, even those who 'won' their case would afterwards
have to live with the bad feelings it had aroused. In such a
situation normal relationships with neighbours involved in
the dispute would become impossible.
However, alongside these anxieties there also appears to
have been a deep consciousness that it was often very difficult
to get at the truth when neighbours quarrelled:
With their mouths the godless would destroy their neighbours,
but by knowledge the righteous are delivered (11.9).
There was, in any case, a further problem with trying to settle
neighbourly disputes in a formal way. Even when justice was
wholly on one side the ill temper and foolishness of the person
accused could easily lead to the entire proceedings getting
nowhere:
When a wise person goes to law with fools,
there is ranting and ridicule and no let up (29.9).
The point that is made here would appear to be that the law
court is no place to sort out most private disputes, even when
the cause is valid, since it will inevitably generate further bad
feelings and actions.
Even the gossip who told truths that were meant to remain
confidential did a great deal of harm (Prov. 11.13). Overall, the
wise advocated a strong reluctance to bring quarrels between
neighbours into more formal court proceedings, and also
cautioned against acting as witness against a neighbour:
Do not be a witness against your neighbour without cause,
and do not deceive with your lips (24.28).
The admonition here would seem to counsel not only reticence
to bring a charge oneself, but also caution in acting as witness
in support of another. The ease with which a witness could
mislead, not necessarily with the intent of doing so, is well
brought out hi Prov. 18.17:
The person who puts a case first seems right,
until another comes and cross-examines [him] (18.17).
Bearing in mind this warning against hasty judgments and a
gullible attitude, the caution expressed by the wise against
using formal legal procedures to settle quarrels between neigh-
bours makes eminent sense. There was in any case a simpler,
if more arbitrary, way of handling such problems:
Casting the lot puts an end to disputes
and decides between strong-willed opponents (18.18).23
Overall, the advice that is proffered about dealing with difficult
neighbours follows a clear-cut pattern. That such problems
should arise in any community is taken as more or less
inevitable. The person who experiences such tensions must
not therefore feel too aggrieved. Some grievances could simply
be overlooked and forgotten, while in other situations a word
of rebuke could be sufficient to resolve the difficulty (Prov.
27.5). To carry the grievance further than this, by trying to
involve other neighbours, or even to seek a formal legal settle-
ment of the issue, should only be undertaken with the very
greatest caution. If the situation goes this far, say the wise, it
may become very difficult to settle the matter, and permanent
damage may be done to the community.
The teachers of wisdom do appear to have nurtured a very
23. The Hebrew ^sdmlm must point either to powerful and influential
opponents in a lawsuit (cf. NRSV), or more probably to those who are very
confident and assured of their case, and so unwilling to give way.
clear and comprehensive understanding of what constitutes
good neighbourly conduct. Moreover, they appear to have
striven hard to generate what we can only describe as a 'good
neighbour' awareness.
Neither the given bonds and responsibilities of the extended
family, nor yet the natural and supportive human ties of
friendship, constituted an adequate foundation upon which to
build a true community. Only by establishing a more inclusive
concern to support and protect all those who were neighbours
in a given social context could a truly righteous society be
built up. Poverty, quarrelsomeness, and sometimes downright
malevolence and irresponsibility, could all put stresses on
healthy community relationships. Nevertheless, the wise
person was to strive and work for a strong and supportive
community by becoming conscious of where the difficulties
lay, and by countering evil with resilient and patient goodwill.
Standing second only to the command to love God, the
injunction 'to love one's neighbour* was singled out in the New
Testament as summarizing the full meaning of the biblical
torah, and this is certainly significant. However, it cannot be
regarded as a uniquely Christian development, since much of
the language and moral awareness on which it rests is
already deeply expressed in the Book of Proverbs.
PSALM 37: CONFLICT OF INTERPRETATION*
Walter Brueggemann
In two decades of energetic activity, wisdom studies have

reached something of a plateau.1 As a result of the work of
Professor Whybray, along with Gerhard von Rad, James
L. Crenshaw, and Roland E. Murphy (to name the most
prominent), we are now able to take as a consensus a great
deal concerning Israelite wisdom literature, e.g. its modes of
disclosure, its assumptions about authority, its probable social
contexts, its general theological intentionality, its tensions
with more dominant modes of faith, and its paradoxical
relation to broader wisdom traditions in the Near East.2 The
dominant wisdom literature, which functions as a normative
reference point for scholarly forays concerning wisdom in
other places, is found in Proverbs and Job, respectively a
* I am delighted to join in congratulations to Professor Whybray. I

am grateful not only for his scholarship that has impacted my own, but
also for his recurring, gracious hospitality.
1. See the recent, comprehensive review of the state of scholarship in
The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East (ed. John G. Gammie and
Leo G. Perdue; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1990).
2. R. Norman Whybray, The Intellectual Tradition in the Old
Testament (BZAW, 135; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1974), Wisdom in Proverbs:
The Concept of Wisdom in Proverbs 1-9 (SET, 45; London: SCM Press,
1965), and his survey, The Social World of the Wisdom Writers', in The
World of Ancient Israel: Sociological, Anthropological and Political
Perspectives (ed. Ronald E. Clements; Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1989), pp. 227-50; Gerhard von Rad, Wisdom in Israel (Nashville:
Abingdon Press, 1972); James L. Crenshaw, Old Testament Wisdom: An
Introduction (Atlanta: John Knox, 1981); and Roland E. Murphy, Wisdom
Literature: Job, Proverbs, Ruth, Canticles, Ecclesiastes and Esther (FOIL,
13; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1981).
literature of social stability and a literature of dissonant
protest.3 Among other pieces of literature more or less related
to this normative corpus, scholars have identified a fairly
standard list of sapiential or instructional Psalms.4
In this paper, in the context of the scholarly consensus to
which I have referred, I will consider Psalm 37, the most eas-
ily identified of the list of sapiential Psalms. I will consider it
in terms of its socio-theological intentionality, and the effect of
its discourse as an act of social power.5 I will seek to show that
the intention of the Psalm is (perhaps deliberately) much less
clear than has been most often assumed. This indeterminate
quality makes the Psalm surprisingly supple for interpreta-
tion, and invites conflicting readings in the face of contextual
requirements, interests and possibilities.6
3. On the dialectic, see Leo G. Perdue, 'Cosmology and the Social

Order in the Wisdom Tradition', in The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near
East, pp. 457-78.
4. See E. Gerstenberger, 'Psalms', in Old Testament and Form
Criticism (ed. John H. Hayes; San Antonio: Trinity University Press,
1974), pp. 218-20; Kenneth Kuntz, The Canonical Wisdom Psalms of
Ancient Israel', in Rhetorical Criticism: Festschrift for James Muilenburg
(ed. J.J. Jackson and Martin Kessler; Pittsburgh: Pickwick Press, 1974),
pp. 186-222; Sigmund Mowinckel, 'Psalms and Wisdom', VTS 3 (1955),
pp. 204-24; and Roland Murphy, 'A Consideration of the Classification
"Wisdom Psalms'", in Congress Volume, Bonn 1962 (ed. J.A. Emerton
et a/.; VTSup, 9; Leiden Brill, 1963), pp. 156-67.
5. On the notion of socio-theology, see Marie Augusta Neal, A Socio-
Theology of Letting Go: The Role of a First World Church Facing Third
World Peoples (New York: Paulist Press, 1977). More comprehensively on
discourse as power, see Rebecca Chopp, The Power to Speak: Feminism,
Language, God (New York: Crossroad, 1989).
6. The programmatic notion of conflict of interpretations is, of course,
that of Paul Ricoeur, The Conflict of Interpretations (ed. Don Ihde;
Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 1974). Ricoeur's juxta-
position of a Tiermeneutics of suspicion' and a Tiermeneutics of retrieval'
is closely correlated to Perdue's nice pairing of The Paradigm of Order* and
The Paradigm of Conflict'. See also Leo G. Perdue, The Social Character
of Paragenesis and Paragenetic Literature', Semeia 50 (1990), especially
pp. 8-12.
BRUEGGEMANN Psalm 37 231
I
The Psalm shares the literary and theological assumptions
that are regularly assigned to the earlier collections of sayings
(sentences and instructions) in the book of Proverbs. That is,
the Psalm in its acrostic form could well be situated in the
book of Proverbs itself, for it relies upon the range of claims
that Zimmerli related to 'creation theology*,7 and which Koch
identified as a theory of retribution',8 so decisive for the oldest
Proverbial wisdom. Of the many interesting and important
rhetorical features of the Psalm, I will consider four:
1. Within the context of the most general sapiential theme
that faithful living results in well-being (i.e. 'deeds-conse-
quence'), the most recurrent accent in this Psalm is concern
for land (w. 3, 9, 11, 22, 29, 34, plus v. 18 on 'inheritance').
The Psalm is an instruction about how to keep the land and
how to lose the land. The Psalm plunges the reader immedi-
ately into practical, public, disputed matters of property,
security and wealth, and therefore power. The statements
about land, as we expect in such discourse, draw issues of
property, security, wealth and power into the moral, theolo-
gical world of faith, with specific though guarded reference to
Yahweh. The Psalm utilizes rhetoric that holds together
material interests and transcendental claims.9 Thus the Psalm
7. Walther Zimmerli, 'The Place and Limit of the Wisdom in the

Framework of the Old Testament Theology1, SJT 17 (1964), pp. 146-58.
8. Klaus Koch, 'Is There a Doctrine of Retribution in the Old
Testament?', in Theodicy in the Old Testament (ed. James L. Crenshaw;
Issues in Religion and Theology, 4; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1983),
pp. 57-87. See the critique of Koch by Michael V. Fox, Qoheleth and his
Contradictions (Sheffield: Almond Press, 1989), p. 125 n. 5.
9. On the interrelatedness of material interest and transcendental
claim, see Norman K. Gottwald, The Tribes of Yahweh (Maryknoll, NY:
Orbis Books, 1979), especially ch. 48 on the mutual reinforcement of
Yahwism' and 'Social Egalitarianism'. See Gottwald, Tribes, pp. 592-607,
on his strictures against religious idealism which lacks self-conscious
connection to material interest. Hans-Joachim Kraus (Psalms 1-59: A
Commentary [Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1988], p. 408) wants to resist an
idealist' interpretation of the Psalm by insisting that the Psalm is about
a relation to Yahweh, and not an 'idea' about retribution. Kraus, however,
repeatedly asserts that land (and its derivative blessings and
security) are not elements in sheer economic transactions, but
belong to the larger fabric of communal relationships with a
moral dimension, where righteousness and/or wickedness is
enacted, and where Yahweh's power to give or withhold
blessing is operative.10
This emphasis upon land is expressed in a word pair that is
of peculiar interest, yrS/krt. While the instructional theme of
this Psalm is hardly remarkable in a sapiential context, the
use of this word pair is noteworthy. The term yr§ is regularly
and most often used in the land traditions that focus upon or
are derived from Deuteronomy. That is, the word is most used
in the 'conquest traditions' which concern the seizure of land
and the fulfillment of the ancestral promises.11 Such a usage
is quite remote from what seems to be the more domestic hori-
zon of the Psalm concerning the administration of property in
a local community, and the difficulties of acquiring and man-
aging landed estates.12 The termyrS is used five times in our
Psalm (w. 9,11, 22, 29, 34). Remarkably, it is used only four
times in all of Proverbs (20.13; 23.21; 30.9; 30.23).13 In the
first two uses of this latter list, the verb is used passively and
negatively, 'come to poverty'; that is, these uses are quite
unlike the positive uses in our Psalm which have the righteous
stays largely in the area of piety, and does not let material interests
impinge upon his reading.
10. On the interface of the economy to the larger social fabric, see Karl
Polanyi, The Great Transformation (Boston: Beacon Press, 1957), and
more recently M. Douglas Meeks, God the Economist: The Doctrine of God
and Political Economy (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1989).
11. For an exploration of other terms in the same semantic field, see
Friedrich Horst, 'Zwei Begriffe fur Eigentum (Besitz): n'pnj und npi$', in
Verbannung und Heimkehr: Beitrage zur Geschichte und Theologie Israels
im 6. und 5. Jahrhundert v. Chr. (ed. Arnulf Kuschke; Tubingen:
J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1961), pp. 135-56.
12. That is, this Psalm seems to reflect a settled economy, and does
not have in purview military action, either aggressive or defensive. See
below on the hypothesis of Frank Crusemann.
13. The last of these texts has a textual problem at the point of our
term. Pertaining to our term, see William McKane, Proverbs: A New
Approach (OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1970), p. 659.
person as an active subject. The verb, moreover, is not used at
all in Job.
The second verb of the pair, krt, is used five times in our
Psalm (w. 9, 22, 28, 34, 38), four times in juxtaposition to yrs.
(Only in v. 11 is yrS used without krt and only in v. 37 is krt
used without yrS.) In all five uses of krt, the verb is passive,
thus refusing to identify an active agent of 'cutting off*. The
usage of krt is of interest for two reasons. First, it is quite
uncommon to have the passive, negative verb used for such a
local denial of property, for the term is most often used either
for cultic excommunication (in the Priestly traditions), or as
an outcome of war where the enemy is destroyed. Second, it is
astonishing that the verb is used so rarely in the core sapien-
tial literature. It occurs four times in Proverbs (2.22; 10.31;
23.18; 24.14) and not at all in Job.14 In the uses in Proverbs,
2.22 most closely parallels the usage of our Psalm, and has the
most noticeable similarity between the Psalm and Proverbs.15
In 10.31 the verb is used for the 'cutting off' of a perverse
tongue; in 10.30, the theme of our Psalm is used, but without
the verb. In 23.18 and 24.14 the usage is not without linkage
to the subject of our Psalm (see below on 'aharit\ but the
precise use of the verbs is not the same.
Thus, while 2.22 is a close parallel, in fact we have no other
examples in the core wisdom material of the word pair, which
occurs five times in our Psalm, plus two incidental uses not in
a pair. I suggest that the Psalm, in a most imaginative way,
has taken terms from quite different language worlds to for-
mulate a new, taut argument. The termyrS is most at home in
the world of large land conquest and the term krt is most used
in terms of cultic exclusion or military defeat. Set in relation to
each other, these powerful verbs make the possession of land
of enormous moment, both as threat and as possibility. The
repeated word pair forces the issue of land as property and
security to be intimately linked to larger communal, socio-
moral issues. The Psalm redefines and recontextualizes land,
14. The root krt occurs in Job 31.1 and 40.28, but not in a way related
to our usages.
15. Whybray (Wisdom in Proverbs, pp. 40-41) regards these verses as
an intrusion here, of a quite generalizing nature.
and that intimate linkage is the central question in reading
the Psalm. Note well that connecting land and Yahweh's
righteousness is not the same as 'deeds-consequence', which is
a more reductionist category.
Moreover, the two verbs are each time used in an odd
asymmetry. The negative verb krt is used passively, which
conforms to Koch's notion of a 'sphere of destiny* in which
land loss simply eventuates directly (automatically?) from
wickedness.16 By contrast, the positive verb yr§ is an active
verb, so that the righteous person is the active agent of
acquiring land and generating. The Psalm might have used a
hiphil form or a verb like ntn in a positive way, in order to
make Yahweh's agency in giving land more visible.17 The
Psalm, however, prefers to portray the positive acquiring of
land as an active accomplishment wrought through faithful
living. Perhaps this contrast that correlates positive/ negative
with active Ipassive is a pedagogical strategy to emphasize
that the acquisition or ownership of the land can be actively
and intentionally pursued through faithful living. There is
indeed something one can do to secure land, whereas the loss
of land is not quite so direct.
2. The most startling statement in the Psalm is the assertion
of w. 25-26, the nun formulation of the acrostic. As we shall
see below, these two verses lend most weight to the common
judgment that this Psalm is the voice of a self-assured prop-
erty-owning class which believes 'the system works', and which
is prepared to deny any evidence that might tell against this
settled, stable, reliable, controllable view of social reality. The
statement that 'deeds-consequences' works is here flat and
without nuance, entertaining no exception or slippage.
Crusemann takes v. 25 'as typifying the older wisdom in its
entirety*.18
16. Koch, 'Is There a Doctrine of Retribution?', pp. 78-83 and passim.
17. In v. 34, the role of Yahweh is made more active and explicit, but
only in this one instance.
18. Frank Crusemann, 'The Unchangeable World: The "Crisis of
Wisdom" in Koheleth', in God of the Lowly: Socio-Historical Interpretations
of the Bible (ed. Willy Schottroff and Wolfgang Stegemann; Maryknoll,
NY: Orbis Books, 1984), p. 61, takes v. 25 'as typifying the older wisdom
Such a view might be useful as an educational ploy in a

very protected environment, or in the context of the very
young and the very innocent (or the very devout). Such a
view might even be sound piety, the kind that pervades the
most innocent sapiential teaching that has as yet experienced
no failure of nerve, and has not encountered any cognitive
dissonance.19 Clearly the affirmation of these verses cannot be
sustained in the face of any critical social observation, but it is
possible to avoid critical social observation in a protected social
context.20
To his credit, John Calvin, who passionately embraces the
truth of scripture, finds this claim at face value too much to
defend. He concedes: 'It is certain that many righteous men
have been reduced to beggary*, and he alludes to the figure of
Lazarus in Lk. 16.20 as an acknowledgment of that aware-
ness.21 Moreover, Calvin asserts that there is 'no certain rule
with respect to temporal blessing*. Thus Calvin deftly and
tersely erodes the reliability of 'deeds-consequences' as an
adequate socio-theological claim, as it is undone for all of us
by social reality. Calvin's acknowledgement is unflinching. His
solution, however, is less daring, for he takes the affirmation
of w. 25-26 to refer to spiritual blessing, thus requiring the
in its entirety*. See also von Rad, Wisdom in Israel, pp. 124-37. Lawrence
E. Johnson, A Morally Deep World (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1991), pp. 11-12, who finds the same elemental conviction in the
world of Socrates, when it is asserted that 'No evil can come to a good
man', or can 'befall the soul'.
19. On cognitive dissonance, see Leon Festinger, A Theory of Cognitive
Dissonance (Stanford: Stafford University Press, 1962), and the use
made of the idea by Robert P. Carroll, When Prophecy Failed: Reactions
and Responses to Failure in the Old Testament Prophetic Traditions
(London: SCM Press, 1979).
20. See echoes of the same social posture in Ps. 112. Note well that
such a sheltered view of reality is not merely ideological, i.e. holding to a
notion, evidence notwithstanding. Such a view also requires a material
arrangement, i.e. a deployment of economic-political power which assures
that there will be no direct or visible contact with those who embody
counter-evidence. The theory depends upon concrete social solutions and
the power to sustain them.
21. John Calvin, Commentary on the Book of Psalms: Second Volume
(Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1979), p. 39.
detachment of these verses from the materiality of the rest of
the Psalm. Calvin's obvious discomfort with the verses leaves
him, as it leaves any interpreter, a problem that requires
comment (on which see below).
3. This Psalm celebrates 'the blameless' (tamtm, v. 18, tarn,
v. 27), i.e. those who have solidarity, who bring well-being
upon the community.22 This two-fold usage of the same term is
important because it brings this Psalm more fully (than does
yrs/krt) into the orbit of sapiential vocabulary, and specifically
into the problematic of Job. In v. 37 the word pair tm/ysr is the
same one used to characterize the innocent, unperturbed Job
of 1.1, 1.8 and 2.2. (See the same word pair in Prov. 2.7, 21;
29.10; Ps. 25.21.) The one who is 'blameless and upright' is the
model person of faith and righteousness, and, according to
innocent wisdom, the one sure to be blessed. Thus the word
pair (and the use in our Psalm) points to the problem that
occupies the poem of Job.
The poem of Job comes to be a battle over the actual blame-
lessness of Job, and over the significance of that blamelessness,
once it is established. While Job is taunted by his wife for his
treasured blamelessness (2.9), and is reminded that God does
not care about his blamelessness (22.3), what counts most for
the dramatic power of the poem is that Job refuses to give up
his claim of blamelessness (cf. 12.4; 27.5; 31.6). Until the very
end, Job will not relent, even though his claim requires a
frontal attack on God's own 'blamelessness' (9.20-22).
Thus our Psalm is unflinchingly allied with and supportive of
Joban claims. To be sure, neither the rhetoric nor the courage
of this Psalm is as far developed or as intense as is the Joban
argument. But the premise is the same, and the implied
struggle for moral coherence is the same. Moreover, Prov.
28.10 asserts that the blameless do inherit (nhl), the same
verb used in Ps. 37.18 with the term tamtm. It is clear that our
Psalm is not as innocent as it first appears, but is willing to
take a strong—and what turns out to be a contentious and
difficult— stance as the core sapiential argument of theodicy.23
22. On the term, see Walter Brueggemann, 'A Neglected Sapiental

Word Pair", ZAW8B (1977), pp. 234-58.
23. While Crenshaw shows that later, more developed wisdom teaching
4. The Psalm concludes with a bold assertion that, in the
end, matters will be sorted out according to moral distinctions
(w. 37-40). In important ways, these verses simply reiterate
the teaching of the entire Psalm. The Psalm does, however,
look to a resolution not yet obvious or in hand. It is as though
the Psalm in the end concedes that the claim of w. 25-26 is
not obviously established, and so it must provide a faithful
way around the problem. We may distinguish between two
important concluding assertions.
First, in w. 39-40, the rhetoric of the Psalm is escalated to
witness to the active, decisive intrusion of Yahweh who Tielps,
rescues, rescues, saves'. While there have heretofore been
hints of divine activity, this is a bold departure from 'deeds-
consequences' rhetoric; the verses stand in some tension with
the rest of the Psalm and more nearly cohere with Israel's
'confessional' traditions. In an emergency, the Psalm is
pushed beyond its excessive innocence to a more vigorous
theological affirmation.
Second, and for our purposes more important, vv. 37-38
twice use the term 'posterity Caharit) to sort out the future of
the blameless and the wicked. Three rhetorical points may be
noted. First, the word pair 'blameless, upright' is used as in
Job 1.1, 8 and 2.3. This blameless-upright one is the quint-
essential wise person. Second, the negative passive verb, krt,
is again used, this time without being paired with yr§. Third,
in these two verses, unlike w. 39-40, there are no active verbs
and no agent. Yahweh is not mentioned. These verses seem to
affirm fully that the righteous person does indeed create a
reliable 'sphere of destiny' into the future.
What interests us most here, however, is the double use of
'aharlt. The Psalm is willing and able to look beyond a simple
moral calculation to a full, climactic reckoning ultimately
wrought by God.24 The book of Proverbs had already concluded
must address the issue of theodicy more boldly and directly, I suggest
that the core options concerning theodicy are already present in the old
sayings.
24. The fullest content to 'ultimate reckoning* in this Psalm is given by
Mitchell Dahood, Psalms II, 51-100: Introduction, Translation and Notes
(AB, 17; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1968), pp. 192-15. Dahood takes
that those who act wickedly have no future, or a sad, lifeless
future (Prov. 14.12; 16.25; 20.21; 24.20). Two other uses of
'aharU in Proverbs are of particular interest. In 23.18 and
24.14, it is affirmed that the wise and righteous do indeed
have a 'future and hope', i.e. something yet to be received that
is beyond present circumstance. Moreover, this positive
affirmation in both cases makes use of the niphal of krt, the
same verb used negatively in our Psalm. Thus our Psalm in its
conclusion is a statement of enormous confidence, well beyond
the careful calculations and symmetries more easily associated
with the earlier part of the Psalm. It is perhaps too much to
take these verses 'eschatologically', but the formula of 'yet a
little while' in v. 10 encourages such a reading.25
There is of course much more to be said about the rhetoric
and intentionality of this Psalm. These four elements—yr§/krt
concerning land, old/young, blameless, posterity—are enough
to suggest that this teaching is not a bland summary of an
innocuous, optimistic prudentialism. It is, rather, alert to an
important intellectual dispute that admits of no easy reso-
lution. Moreover, it is evident that the Psalm is not one long,
flat instruction marked by sameness and consistency. There is
a variety of markers concerning abrupt rhetorical and sub-
stantive turns. These markers raise up issues, evidence
tensions, lack of resolution and urgency in the ongoing con-
versation of practical faith. We are now ready to ask about the
mode of discourse and the socio-theological intentionality of
the Psalm.
II
Our first reading of this Psalm concerns its 'ideological'
support of an economic, social status quo. The preoccupation
with land in this Psalm assures us that the Psalm is deeply
the negative judgment of v. 17 as 'eschatological destiny", and the positive

statement of v. 24 as 'the final reward of the righteous after death'.
Dahood's view has not commanded very much scholarly support.
25. While avoiding the specific affirmation of Dahood, Calvin (Psalms
36-92, p. 51) nicely says, 'It behooves us to give God time to restore to
order the confused state of things'.
embedded in and concerned for social interest. It is not
neutral, disinterested or transcendental. In order to explicate
this Psalm in relation to its social interest, I shall appeal to
Karl Mannheim's much criticized but still useful categories of
'ideology and utopia'.26
Psalm 37 is a powerful practice of social ideology in the ser-
vice of landed interests. The term 'ideology' of course admits to
two quite different readings. The earlier Marxist usage of the
term, operative in Mannheim, is pejorative. Thus ideology is
an attempt to articulate one's social interest as social reality,
or to present a part of the truth of social reality as though it
were the whole. Ideology in this sense consists in deliberate
deception in order to present a false, self-serving, self-justify-
ing portrayal of reality. Mannheim uses 'ideology' in this way
to describe acts of social legitimation taken by those who hold
power. Such legitimating acts defend and justify the status
quo, so that unequal social arrangements are offered as social
'givens'.
A more neutral use of the term 'ideology', carefully articula-
ted by Clifford Geertz, is that it is simply a foundational
articulation of the world which gives sense to experience and
which permits the community to share in legitimated assump-
tions that permit social function.27 In this sense, the term serves
as a near synonym for theology, and contains no pejorative
dimension.28 In one usage or the other, Psalm 37 is 'ideology',
26. In Old Testament studies, the categories of Mannheim have been

most programmatically employed by Paul D. Hanson, The Dawn of
Apocalyptic: The Historical and Sociological Roots of Jewish Apocalyptic
Eschatology (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975), p. 72 n. 45, and passim.
On Mannheim, see Paul Ricoeur, Lectures on Ideology and Utopia (New
York: Columbia University Press, 1986), ch. 10.
27. Clifford Geertz, 'Ideology as a Cultural System', in his The Inter-
pretation of Cultures: Selected Essays (New York: Basic Books, 1973),
pp. 193-233. See Ricoeur, Lectures on Ideology and Utopia, especially
pp. 137-43, and W.J.T. Mitchell, Iconology: Image, Text, Ideology (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1986), especially Part Three. The issue of
the meaning or intention of ideology turns on the issue of whether a truth
claim is distortive or integrative.
28. My impression is that when used in this way by 'neutral' social
scientists, i.e. positivists, even the so-called neutral usage is in fact
either legitimating inequality, or simply establishing 'deeds-
consequence' as a way of understanding public moral
coherence.
The use of the category 'ideology* for Psalm 37 was sug-
gested to me by Otto Kaiser, in his helpful study of Job.29
Kaiser understands ideology to be
human attempts to explain the whole or important parts of the
world or life, and so to gain compelling firm guidelines.30
Kaiser further holds that in the early part of the sixth century
BCE there was a systematic 'ideologization' of faith in Judah,
which produced an ethical rigorism.31 He describes that effort
in this way:
The ancient religious connection of righteousness and life was
elevated to a law that allows no exceptions, and consequently
the sufferings of the innocent were understood either as neces-
sary test and purification, or must be categorically denied.32
Kaiser then proceeds to cite Psalm 1, Prov. 11.21, 13.9, Gen.
18.16-25 and a confession of Jeremiah as examples of the
emergence of this ideology.
Kaiser's argument interests me specifically because he sug-
gests that Psalm 37 is a primary example of this ideology.33
(He dates the Psalm to the Maccabean period, but the argu-
ment would pertain even with a somewhat earlier dating of
the Psalm.) Kaiser's argument concerning this Psalm and
others like it is that it prepares the way for the literature of
latently pejorative. Ricoeur, Lectures on Ideology and Utopia, p. 161,

writes: 'Because of ideology's origin in the disparaging labeling used by
Napoleon against his adversaries, we must keep in mind the possibility
that it is never a purely descriptive concept*.
29. Otto Kaiser, Ideologic und Glaube: Eine Gefahrdung christlichen
Glaubens am alttestamentlichen Beispiel aufgezeigt (Stuttgart: Radius,
1984).
30. Kaiser, Ideologic und Glaube, p. 27.
33. Kaiser, Ideologic und Glaube, pp. 36-39. On the burden of teaching
as 'order*, see Raymond C. Van Leeuwen, 'Immorality and Worldview in
Proverbs 1-9', Semeia 50 (1991), pp. 111-44.
Job and Ecclesiastes as it struggles precisely with this
formidable ideology.34
Kaiser's argument is richly suggestive, though two prelimi-
nary reservations may be noted. First, Kaiser's definition of
ideology makes it difficult to determine if his usage is pejora-
tive or not. Second, his willingness to identify the time and
historical context of the process of 'ideologization' is not with-
out problem, because it may indeed reflect the old (largely
Christian) bias about the 'decline into Judaism'. My own
propensity is to take a sociological rather than historical-
chronological view of the process. That is, the emergence of
ideology is not to be understood as a decision taken at a
certain moment in Judaism, but as a characteristic tendency
in every time, of those who believe they can sustain the status
quo by careful attention to moral conduct, and by those who
legitimate their privilege by an appeal to 'transcendence'.36
While there may have been such an intense tendency in post-
exilic Judaism, the texts are too difficult to date and the
dating largely contains a circular argument in the service of
an old hypothesis about 'degenerate Judaism'.
That modest criticism notwithstanding, Kaiser's reading of
Psalm 37 seems to me to be correct. The Psalm is a bold and
confident articulation of a 'deeds-consequence' view of moral
coherence that entertains no doubt, has no failure of nerve,
and will host no exceptions.
The statements that contain our two words, yr$/krt, make
the point with clarity and without ambiguity:
For the wicked shall be cut off,
but those who wait for the Lord shall inherit the land (v. 9).
34. Bertil Albrektson, Studies in the Text and Theology of the Book of
Lamentations with a Critical Edition of the Peshitta Text (Lund: Gleerup,
1963), pp. 214-39, has set up the same problem concerning 'theodic settle-
ment' and theodic crisis' with reference to Deuteronomy and Lamentations.
35. On this appeal to transcendence and a critique of it, see Walter
Brueggemann, 'A Shape for Old Testament Theology, I: Structure
Legitimation', CBQ 47 (1985), pp. 28-46, and 'A Shape for Old Testament
Theology, II: Embrace of Pain', CBQ 47 (1985), pp. 395-415.
The use of qwh suggests this is not confidence for what is in
hand, but the reception of land is regarded as certain in time
to come.36
.. .those blessed by the Lord shall inherit the land,
but those cursed by him shall be cut off(v. 22).
Unlike w. 9 and 10-11, this statement allows a modest place
for Yahweh who is the power of blessing and of curse. But the
power of blessing and curse attributed to Yahweh, in v. 21, is
referred back to wickedness and righteousness, which here
concern economic practices of borrowing and generosity. Thus
the cause ofyr§/krt is not the work of Yahweh, but one's own
economic performance.
.. .the children of the wicked shall be cut off.
The righteous shall inherit the land,
and live in it forever (w. 28b-29).
The statement lacks specificity, but w. 27-28 which precede
refer to evil, good and justice. Gerstenberger, in his comment
on Prov. 3.7, identifies this admonition as an epitome of the
general perspective of wisdom.37 It is the embrace of justice or
injustice that leads to land or to land loss.
Wait for the Lord, and keep to his way,
and he will exalt you to inherit the land;
you will look on the destruction (krt) of the wicked (v. 34).
In this text, Yahweh has an active verb, 'exalt', but again it is
'hoping' and 'keeping' that produce material results.
To these texts that have the word pair may be added w. 3,
10-11, 18 and 37-38, all of which derive an assured future
from a properly practiced present.
Three matters are evident in these assertions. First, they
admit of no exceptions or ambiguity. The linkage of act and
36. On the concreteness of such waiting-hope, see Hans Walter Wolff,

Anthropology of the Old Testament (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974),
pp. 149-55, and Walther Zimmerli, Man and his Hope in the Old Testament
(SBT, 2/20; Naperville, IL: Allenson, 1968), ch. 3, especially p. 29.
37. Erhard Gerstenberger, Wesen und Herkunft des 'apodiktischen
Rechts' (WMANT, 20; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1965),
p. 49.
outcome is one-to-one. Second, the grammatical construction
characteristically says nothing about how the act and the
outcome are related to each other.38 It is simply so, taken as a
premise and as a given, established through the observation
of endless cases. The claim which has become 'ideological' is
based upon a deposit of trusted experience that is not specified
or explained. What was an experienced conclusion has become
a non-negotiable premise. Third, while there is no visible or
explicit linkage, Yahweh hovers around these assertions in a
variety of ways.
We may identify four ways in which Yahweh is regarded in
these sayings on land as an outcome of conduct:
1. Only in v. 34 is Yahweh the explicit agent of inheritance.
2. In w. 28,29, Yahweh is the implicit subject of the acts.
3. In w. 3 (cf. v. 4) and 9, Yahweh is the referent of the
saying, but only as object, not as subject.
4. In w. 11, 28b-29 and 37-38, Yahweh is absent, not men-
tioned at all.
While Yahweh is never far from the process, Yahweh's
actual involvement in the process of inheriting and disinher-
iting is less than direct and frontal. This gingerly way with
Yahweh suggests that the guaranteeing presence of Yahweh
is indispensable for the teaching, even though the teaching is
primarily preoccupied with the land process itself, and only
then, belatedly, with its ethical-theological precondition. It is
no stretch of the imagination to conclude that where Yahweh
is minimally involved, the moral-theological requirements do
indeed seem to be instrumental to the goal of land, precisely
what an ideological statement might entail. That is, Yahweh
is useful to the real concern.39
38. On the function of such parataxis, see Walter Brueggemann, The

Uninflected "Therefore" of Hos. 4.1-3', in Reading from This Place: Social
Location and Biblical Interpretation (ed. Fernando F. Segovia and Mary
Ann Tolbert; forthcoming from Westminster/John Knox).
39. I have in mind the notion of 'function' as Norman Gottwald has
utilized it (The Tribes of Yahweh, pp. 608-21). I am of course aware of the
problem of utilitarian faith. But of course this Psalm and its Job-like
claim are concerned precisely with the 'usefulness' of Yahweh for the
The identification of the social context and intentionality of
such an ideology inevitably are to some extent circular.
Though scholars are not fully agreed about the institutional
context of such sayings, it is surely not too much to see that
this saying reflects the perception of interest of the landed
who construe and advocate certain moral-social prerequisites
for acquiring and holding land.40 The Psalm reflects a convic-
tion that the holding of land is itself a sign of virtue as well as
blessing. The presumption of virtue as well as blessing is the
decisive ideological turn in the argument, for it introduces the
category of merit.
The Psalm not only affirms social stability and continuity,
but assumes the virtue of those who enact sound stability,
and seeks by its teaching to fend off the loss of property which
would be tantamount to the coming of chaos. This reading of
the Psalm as a socially interested statement is specifically sug-
gested by Robert Gordis and less directly by Brian Kovacs.41
Gordis's analysis is especially important because it is prior to
and largely innocent of any theoretical, sociological reference,
which was taken up in Old Testament studies well after
Gordis's publication. That is, Gordis has no social theory to
impose upon the text, as have later scholars (including Kovacs
and Gottwald) who have become methodologically more
intentional. Without appeal to any such grand theory, Gordis
sees that the Psalm reflects the affluent land-owner class, as
legitimacy and sustenance of its moral concern. On the question of the

'usefulness' of faith, see Job 1.9.
40. Perdue, 'Cosmology and the Social Order', pp. 476-78, has most
helpfully summarized the discussion concerning the social location of the
sages.
41. R. Gordis, The Social Background of Wisdom Literature', in Poets,
Prophets, and Sages: Essays in Biblical Interpretation (Bloomington:
Indiana University Press, 1971), pp. 160-97; Brian W. Kovacs, 'Is There
a Class-Ethic in Proverbs?', in Essays in Old Testament Ethics (ed. James
L. Crenshaw and John T. Willis; New York: Ktav, 1974), pp. 171-89. Less
directly, see also J. David Pleins, 'Poverty in the Social World of the Wise',
JSOT 37 (1987), pp. 61-78; R.N. Whybray, Wealth and Poverty in the
Book of Proverbs (JSOTSup, 99; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1990), and the
review article by Whybray, 'Poverty, Wealth, and Point of View in
Proverbs', ExpTim 100 (1989), pp. 332-36.
does proverbial wisdom more generally. Kovacs with more
methodological awareness concludes that the literature (of
this proverbial kind) has a strong ideological cast.42 In my own
terms, Psalm 37 as ideology is 'structure legitimating* and
serves to sustain a socio-theological 'orientation'.43 Verses 25-
26 provide the ultimate expression of this self-assured claim
which unashamedly overrides, denies and ignores social
reality to the contrary. The Psalm seems to have arrived at
self-confidence for the owner class that this teaching is more
reliable than any observable data to the contrary.44
Ill
What interests me, however, is the fact that this Psalm seems
to receive a second, very different reading in a second, very
different context. In some more contemporary liberation liter-
ature, the sorts of claims made in this Psalm are taken not as
congratulations for the landed, but as a ground for hope for
the landless.** Moreover, the usage of v. 11 in the Sermon on
the Mount (Mt. 5.5) suggests a reading of the Psalm very
different from any socially ideological reading—a profound act
of determined hope.46 This reading takes the Psalm (a) as a
42. Kovacs, 'Is There a Class-Ethic?', carefully nuances the class

interest in the sayings, but sees that it is not blatant, but somewhat open
to new experience that may cause revision in social interest.
43. On my use of these terms, see Brueggemann, 'A Shape for Old
Testament Theology I', and The Message of the Psalms: A Theological
Commentary (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1984), pp. 25-49.
44. This is then what I term a 'theodic settlement', i.e. an established
balance between cost and benefit in terms of social power which legiti-
mates a particular arrangement of power, and which shapes and limits
social expectations. While it is usual to employ the term 'theodicy* only in
a crisis when social norms seem dysfunctional, in fact there can be no
theodic crisis unless there is a previous consensus settlement. I take Ps. 37
to function in powerful and persuasive ways as such a settlement.
45. On this reading, the promise of land becomes something like a
'preferential option for the poor'. See Jose Miranda, Marx and the Bible: A
Critique of the Philosophy of Oppression (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books,
1974), p. 97.
46. See Sharon H. Ringe, Jesus, Liberation, and the Biblical Jubilee:
Images for Ethics and Christology (Overtures to Biblical Theology;
promise and guarantee of land for those who seem to have no
means (except the claims of morality) whereby to acquire
land, and therefore (b) as a critical assault on present land
arrangements which are unjust and which cannot be sus-
tained. That is, the Psalm is turned against the 'wicked' who
now possess the very land that has been promised to 'the
meek' and will indeed be given to them. In a word, what is
evidently an 'ideological' program of the Psalm to legitimate
the status quo becomes a practice of 'utopia', an assurance of
well-being which is certain if not yet in hand, an assurance of
well-being which subverts present ideological claims and their
base in social arrangements. Frederic Jameson has subtly
observed that the practice of ideology itself has inherent
within it a Utopian element, a yearning that the hard claims
of ideology will eventuate in a well-being that is better than
present, legitimate, defended, experienced reality.47
Thus, in a second reading, Psalm 37 is an act of Utopian
hope, i.e. an affirmation about the future, even though the
voice of the Psalm gives no hint about how to get from here to
Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985), pp. 51-54, and Robert A. Guelich, The
Sermon on the Mount: A Foundation for Understanding (Waco, TX: Word
Books, 1982), pp. 81-83, 101-102, 114. Both Ringe and Guelich link the
text to Isa. 61 and its echoes of the Jubilee, and refer to the context of
Qumran. While Guelich resists a purely materialist interpretation to
which Ringe is more inclined, he says of the promise of v. 11 (p. 101), The
hope of inheriting the earth is but another Old Testament expression for
the initiative of God's sovereign rule in history on behalf of his own (e.g.,
Isa. 61:7)'. This latter accent is also sounded by Ulrich Luz, Matthew 1-7:
A Commentary (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1989), p. 236: The promise of
the earth makes clear that the Kingdom of Heaven also comprises a new
"this world"'.
47. Fredric Jameson, The Political Unconscious: Narrative as a Socially
Symbolic Act (London: Methuen, 1981), p. 289, writes, '...a// class
consciousness—or in other words, all ideology in the strongest sense,
including the most exclusive forms of ruling class consciousness just as
much as that of the oppositional or oppressed classes—is in its very
nature Utopian'. In speaking of the dialectic of ideology and utopia,
Ricoeur, Lectures on Ideology and Utopia, p. 251, echoes Jameson: 'As for
myself, I assume completely the inextricable role of this Utopian element,
because I think that it is ultimately constitutive of any theory of ideology.
It is always from the depth of a utopia that we may speak of an ideology.'
there. That is, it is not known how the wicked will lose the
land and the righteous will receive it.48 It is only stated that it
will be so. In this reading, the Psalm is not a defense of
present social reality, but it is an 'eschatologicaT anticipation
that things will assuredly be different.49 The transformation of
Ideology' into 'utopia' in this Psalm clearly requires a different
reading of the text which finds in the text very different
points of accent.50
We may identify some of the points that authorize and legit-
imate a second reading, and which seem to be freshly noted in
this second discernment.
— The verbs to which we have referred (yr§/krt) are
characteristically imperfect and admit of a future
reading. They describe what is assured, but not in
hand. The word pair is anticipatory, not descriptive.
— In v. 10, the phrase 'dd me'at, if not 'apocalyptic', in
any case anticipates a significant social inversion that
is about to happen.
48. The rhetorical elusiveness of the Psalm about how the wicked will
be dispossessed, in something like a parataxis, is strategically important
for the affirmation of the Psalm. The revolutionary hope of the Psalm
knows and trusts that more is assured than is logically or technically
explainable. This elusiveness is part of the subversive rhetorical strategy
for avoiding socio-economic-political details to the hope, details that are
bound to reduce the power of the hope and end in the 'explanations' of the
'ruling class'.
49. 'Eschatology* is admittedly a poor word for the hope of this Psalm.
By the term we can only mean the resolution of social conflict in the
social process, never anything 'beyond' the social process, which would
detract from the socio-economic force of the hope.
50. This is a telling and important case of 'reader-response'. It is
important that in the 'conflict of interpretations' and the freedom of
'reader response', we are not concerned with aesthetic options but with
power struggles driven by competing vested interests. John Goldingay,
The Dynamic Cycle of Praise and Prayer in the Psalms', JSOT 20 (1981),
pp. 85-90, has rightly seen that the same Psalm can perform more than
one such function and yield more than one reading. See my response:
Walter Brueggemann, 'Response to John Goldingay's "The Dynamic
Cycle of Praise and Prayer"', JSOT 22 (1982), pp. 141-42.
— The double use of 'aharlt in vv. 37-38 anticipates a
time to come, quite in contrast to the present, a usage
of 'ahartt echoed in Ps. 73.17.
— The pervasive assault on the 'wicked' suggests a pre-
sent-tense time of speaking that is distressing, if not
unbearable. The wicked, i.e. those who are quite unlike
and in conflict with the voice of the Psalm, apparently
now control the land. Thus the anticipatory stance of
the Psalm is not simply an act of pious trust, though it
is in part.51 It is also an act of social criticism and
social assault that means to expose present realities,
and to provide the ground for questioning and dis-
mantling the legitimacy of those who now wrongly
hold the land.
— The conditions for properly and securely holding the
land are serious social practices and not simply pious
postures. These conditions include trust in Yahweh,
doing good (v. 3), waiting for Yahweh (w. 9, 34),
meekness (v. 11), being blameless (w. 18, 37), righ-
teousness expressed as generosity (v. 21), and righ-
teousness (w. 29, 39). This entire list, when taken as
a whole, proposes a radical counter-ethic, counter to
those who are exploitative, greedy land-grabbers.
The Psalm advocates and proposes, according to
this second reading, a radically different communal
practice. These conditions are not 'ideas', but are con-
crete social practices. Of course the mere saying of this
hope for land does not turn the hope into reality. The
Psalm nonetheless invites and insists upon a serious
adjudication of two ways in which social power is
secured and in which social stability is developed and
maintained. If the practice of righteousness concerns
the maintenance of a viable social fabric, then the
hope relates to the specifics of socio-economic practice.
These real and serious preconditions for property
51. Kraus, Psalms 1-69, p. 408, while recognizing a warm piety in the
Psalm, also notes the 'this-worldly hope for God's intervention* that he
sees resurfacing in Mt. 5.5, in a way congruent with Guelich's comment
on the Beatitude.
mean that the property must be managed with refer-
ence to Yahweh and with reference to the community
intended by Yahweh, clearly reference points sys-
tematically disregarded by the detached market-
economy practice of the wicked who believe gain is
unrelated to social fabric.
— We have seen that Yahweh is only softly articulated
in these affirmations. There is no doubt, however, that
the reference to Yahweh, even if subdued, is decisive,
as in the concluding verses (w. 39-40). It is the inter-
ventionist, side-taking God who is decisive in the
adjudication of land, property, and finally peace.
— The reference to 'blamelessness' (vv. 18, 37) brings
this Psalm into the world of Job. There is no doubt
that Job's 'blamelessness' is deeply under assault in
the poem of Job. Nonetheless, in more recent readings
of Job, the restoration of Job (42.10-17) is taken as
integral to the art form and to the theological inten-
tion of the final form of the text.52 'Blamelessness' in
the end is not mocked: Job may indeed serve God 'for
nought' (Job 1.9), but in the end he is rewarded. Thus
I suggest that Psalm 37, read as social anticipation
(and therefore as social criticism), is not naive and
innocent about real social conflict and frustration, but
in fact traces the same socio-theological dispute that is
more explicit and vigorous in Job. It is the conviction
52. On the role and function of these last verses in the book of Job, see
J. Gerald Janzen, Job (Interpretation; Atlanta: John Knox, 1985),
pp. 261-69, and especially David J.A. Clines, 'Deconstructing the Book of
Job', in What Does Eve Do to Help? and Other Readerly Questions to the
Old Testament (JSOTSup, 94; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1990), pp. 106-23.
On pp. 113-14, Clines writes: '[I]t is even more disconcerting that what
one hardly ever sees argued is the view that in fact the epilogue under-
mines the rest of the Book of Job...It tells us, and not at all implicitly,
that the most righteous man on earth is the most wealthy...[B]y ch. 42,
no one, not even in heaven, is left in any doubt that it is the piety of Job,
somewhat eccentrically expressed to be sure, that has led to his ultimate
superlative prosperity. What the book has been doing its best to
demolish, the doctrine of retribution, is on its last page triumphantly
affirmed.'
of the 'righteous' that they live in a world where
wicked land practices cannot prevail.63 In the mean-
time, the righteous (meek) must wait (w. 9, 34). In
their waiting, they must act in and for the community
in ways quite contrasted with the modes of the wicked
who act against the community.
I do not suggest that a Utopian reading is a better or final
reading that trumps the ideological reading. I suggest only
that it is a second possible reading. This reading does not
resolve the oddness of w. 25-26, but surrounds and perhaps
overwhelms those verses with counter claims. Even the
Utopian, anticipatory practice of the Psalm in the end, how-
ever, will not break with the claims of w. 25-26, which are a
clear insistence upon a righteously ordered creation.64 The
anticipatory note, however, resists any chance of self-con-
gratulations that an ideological reading of w. 25-26 might
host. That is, the anticipatory reading offers no congratula-
tions because the gift of land is not yet in hand, and will not
ever be in hand because of any virtue or merit. These verses
have nothing in hand, but are a passionate hope without any
hint of a failure of nerve. It is the deep expectation of these
verses that the children of the righteous will not in the end be
hungry or reduced to begging. In a world currently wicked,
53. On this conviction, see my analysis of Psalm 9-10: Walter

Brueggemann, 'Psalms 9-10: A Counter to Conventional Social Reality",
in The Bible and the Politics of Exegesis: Essays in Honor of Norman
K. Gottwald on his Sixty-Fifth Birthday (ed. David Jobling et al.;
Cleveland: Pilgrim Press, 1991), pp. 3-15, 297-301. I have urged that in
these two Psalms, (a) Yahweh is an advocate for the poor against the
rich, and (b) the Psalms are themselves an act of rhetorical, and therefore
socio-political, transformation.
54. On the order of creation as an horizon for anticipatory faith, see
H.H. Schmid, 'Creation, Righteousness and Salvation: "Creation Theology"
as the Broad Horizon of Biblical Theology*, in Creation in the Old Testament
(ed. Bernhard W. Anderson; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1984), pp. 102-
17, and Rolf P. Knierim, 'On the Task of Old Testament Theology', HBT 6
(1984), pp. 91-128.
however, the promise and assurance are not yet kept. Thus
the children of the righteous are vigorous, determined, unde-
terred waiting ones.55
IV
The first, i.e. the ideological, reading of the Psalm assumes
and affirms a tight connection of deed and outcome, reflective
of a stable, affluent society, as Gordis has shown.56 In the first
reading, the Psalm 'reproduces' a stable economic order that
maintains economic advantage for a certain element in the
community. Criisemann concludes: 'Where ownership of land
is uncontested and at the same time a segmentary solidarity
reigns, it will be normal to expect a correspondence between
what one does and how one fares'.57
We must now ask about a second context which has
produced a second, i.e. Utopian, reading of the Psalm. The pro-
posal of a social context is always inevitably somewhat hypo-
thetical and circular, but we may at least entertain a cogent
social possibility. In his shrewd analysis of the world of
Koheleth, Criisemann has suggested that, in the Hellenistic
period, an alien state intruded upon the economy of well-
established small landowners, i.e. the ones who readily trusted
the ideology of 'deed and consequences'.58 Thus, according to
Criisemann, the ideological crisis of Koheleth is situated in the
quite concrete social situation of small landowners. As the
55. Notice that the affirmations are thoroughly material in their focus,
not 'spiritual* as in Calvin, and not pious as in Kraus.
56. Criisemann, 'The Unchangeable World', accepts the verdict of
Gordis as the base line for his own conclusions. He characterizes Gordis's
argument as leading to a conclusion on social location that is
'unquestionably true (p. 58) and 'irrefutable' (p. 61). In a much earlier
context, P.A. Munch, 'Das Problem des Reichtums in den Psalmen 37,49,
73', ZAW 55 (1937), pp. 37-40, reached the parallel conclusion that this
Psalm reflects a future for a Bauernideal.
57. Criisemann, The Unchangeable World', p. 62.
58. Criisemann's argument is in part based on H.G. Kippenberg,
Religion und Klassenbildung im antiken Judaa (SUNT, 14; Gottingen,
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1978), to which I have not had access. See the
critical comment of Fox, Qoheleth and his Contradictions, pp. 142-46.
state pre-empted property and the capacity to make one's own
economic decisions, the society became less and less amenable
to management and control, and became increasingly an
uncritical, acquisitive, currency-based society. As a result,
such threatening experience made appeal to the Yahwistic
tradition problematic, economic gain became primary, and
despair issued in a somber reflection upon death.69 In
Crusemann's analysis, Koheleth reflects a growing helpless-
ness and cynicism that seeks only to avoid conflict', withdraw
from stress, and is determined not to 'get involved'.60 The
urging of Koheleth is, 'One is not to be too much a tsaddiqV*1
The experience of Koheleth, reflected in the literature, is
part of a context that made the old theological confidence in
'deed-consequence' impossible. With the abandonment of the
ideology that no longer resonated with experience, Koheleth
ends in despair.
Accepting the proposal of Kippenberg and Crusemann,62 I
suggest that the resignation of Koheleth marks a transition
that in the end eventuated in a second, Utopian reading of
Psalm 37, just as the resignation of Koheleth destroyed the
first, ideological reading. In a situation of powerlessness and
inability to manage or even to understand one's social setting,
the new readers of the Psalm will never reiterate the old ideol-
ogy, but they also will not accept the resignation of Koheleth.
They will instead take the Psalm as a bold anticipation that
no longer trusts naively, but that moves past the sense of
59. While he does not attend much to the material dimension of the
teaching, James L. Crenshaw has probed the way in which Koheleth
finally ends in the despair of death. See Crenshaw, The Shadow of Death
in Qoheleth', in Israelite Wisdom: Theological and Literary Essays in
Honor of Samuel Terrien (ed. John G. Gammie et al.\ Missoula, MT:
Scholars Press, 1978), pp. 205-16, and Ecclesiastes: A Commentary (OTL;
Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1987), pp. 23-28.
60. Crusemann, The Unchangeable World', pp. 70-73.
61. Crusemann, The Unchangeable World', p. 73.
62. See Rainer Albertz, 'Der sozialgeschichtliche Hintergrund und der
"Babylonischen Theodizee"', in Die Botschaft und die Eaten: Festschrift fur
Hans Walter Wolff zum 70. Geburtstag (ed. Jorg Jeremias and Lothar
Perlitt; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1981), pp. 349-72, for a
social analysis of theodicy which is congruent with that of Crusemann.
fatedness given in Koheleth. In that anticipation, the reading
of the Psalm is no longer easily content with the status quo
(how could it be!), nor resigned to the status quo (why should
it be?).
Restlessness and hope are grounded in the conviction that
the Psalm still rings true for the very long haul, because of the
undoubted promises of Yahweh. The grip of the wicked upon
the land will soon (v. 3), in a little while (v. 10), in the end (w.
37-38), be turned so that there will be 'inheriting' and 'cutting
off', because the deeds-consequence linkage is not simply
practical common sense, but a passionate conviction that
Yahweh has ordained that the waiting, righteous ones will
have the land that is rightly theirs, which has of late been
seized from them. That is, the affirmation of faith that in a
better time had been an easy legitimation of present-tense
reality now becomes a passionate refusal to accept the fated,
present-tense world of Koheleth. In the first reading, the
'meek', in their righteousness, held the land, and so could be
calmly affirmative. In the second reading, however, the meek
no longer have the land, or do not yet have the land, but
believe that righteousness is so intrinsic to the land process
that the meek will, late if not soon, receive what is rightly and
surely theirs. Thus the 'conflict of interpretation' yields a
hermeneutical process as follows:63
First reading loss of nerve, and Second reading
of the Psalm —> resignation —> of the Psalm
Ideological description Koheleth abandons Utopian redescription
the Psalm
This sequence is closely parallel to the dramatic sequence of
the final form of the text of Job:
A first reading of Job's A dispute about Job's A restoration of Job
blamelessness —> blamelessness —» in his blamelessness
(Job 1.1-2.13) (Job 3.1-42.6) (Job 42.7-17)
63. This interpretative grid in its many formulations is especially

shaped by the work of Ricoeur. See Mark I. Wallace, The Second Naivete:
Earth, Ricoeur, and the New Yale Theology (Studies in American Biblical
Hermeneutics, 6; Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1990).
Moreover, this sequence closely parallels my interpretive grid
for the Psalms:
orientation —> disorientation —> new orientation64
Thus I suggest that a second reading of the Psalm is gener-
ated in the same context that produced Koheleth. Why some
should read the situation through cynical abdication, and
why some through determined anticipation, is not known.
Partly the text invites such a second reading, partly the
second readers cling to a radically revised form of the old
ideology that has now become passionate hope. And partly, we
do not know why faith is given as a convinced way in which
to read life and text.
The second reading lives very close to the first reading in its
theological premise concerning Yahweh's powerful resolve for
social reality. The intention, result and effect of this second
reading, however, are quite the opposite of the first. The first
reading, with self-satisfaction and self-sufficiency, celebrates
a reliable present tense. The second subverts the present in its
passionate embrace of a revolutionary future, a future as
revolutionary as the Jubilee when the land will be given to
those who have lost it.65
V
It is not surprising that the same text permits more than one
reading. The text is open enough to permit more than one
reading. Given our common critical propensity, we may prefer
64. Walter Brueggemann, Tsalms and the Life of Faith: A Suggested

Typology of Function', JSOT 17 (1980), pp. 3-32.
65. On the radical!ty of the Jubilee, see Ringe, Jesus, Liberation, and
the Biblical Jubilee. But see the insistence of Itumelang T. Mosala,
Biblical Hermeneutics and Black Theology in South Africa (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 1989), pp. 154-89, that even in the Gospel of Luke (of all
places), that radical claim has been reduced to accommodate the ruling
class. Erhard S. Gerstenberger, Psalms, Part I. With an Introduction to
Cultic Poetry (FOTL, 14; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1988), p. 160, almost
inadvertently voices the double reading: The intention is a double one: to
admonish the faithful to keep on the right path...and to revive and
sustain bope for a fundamental change for the better...'
to adjudicate these competing readings in order to settle on a
true reading*. All of our adjudication, however, is also context-
laden. We are left to probe experientially the deeds-conse-
quence claim of the text, whether it pertains either to present-
tense possession of the land or to anticipated, promised posses-
sion of the land. Even our experiential probes, however, will
be context- and interest-laden.
In our own context, an ideological-descriptive, celebrative
reading might be given the Psalm, as those in the 'economic
West' celebrate the collapse of communist regimes in the East.
Such celebration could conclude that we have 'been doing
something right', i.e. capitalism, which makes us 'righteous'
and has led to our legitimate success.66
Conversely, in the United States, the massive power of agri-
business continues to occupy and possess more and more land
to the disadvantage of smaller farmers. An anticipatory criti-
cism of agri-business, as voiced for example by Wendell
Berry,67 will conclude that such indifferent, absent ownership
of the land is in the long run not viable.68 It is an exploitative
practice that does damage not only to the dwellers in the land,
but to the land itself. Eventually the land will be regiven to
the small owner, for such large-scale acquisitiveness and
greed will, soon or late, be 'cut off'. This anticipation is of
course a refusal to accept current 'economic realities', and in
some sense is a hope-filled reassertion of faith that links land
66. This case in all its triumphalist shamelessness has been made by
Francis Fukuyama, The End of History?', The National Interest (Summer,
1989), pp. 3-18, and more fully, Francis Fukuyama, The End of History
and the Last Man (New York: The Free Press, 1991).
67. Wendell Berry, The Gift of Good Land: Further Essays Cultural and
Agricultural (San Francisco: North Point Press, 1981); Home Economics:
Fourteen Essays (San Francisco: North Point Press, 1987); The Unsettling
of America: Culture and Agriculture (New York: Avon Books, 1977).
68. The point has been most trenchantly made by J. Steinbeck, The
Grapes of Wrath (New York: Penguin Books, 1967), pp. 298-99, and pas-
sim. For a critical analysis of the pertinent issues in the Old Testament,
see John Andrew Dearman, Property Rights in the Eighth-Century
Prophets: The Conflict and its Background (SBLDS, 106; Atlanta:
Scholars Press, 1988), and D.N. Premnath, 'Latifundialization and Isaiah
5.8-10', JSOT 40 (1988), pp. 49-60.
to virtue. In this context, an assertion of deeds-consequences
performs only critical and anticipatory functions, and does not
consolidate the status quo.
The maddening and inescapable reality is that these alter-
native readings of the same Psalm continue in our own time
to live in lively tension with each other, a tension that is
theologically demanding and politically urgent. In contempor-
aneous readings, stable wealth is justified, peasant yearning
is legitimated. There is no contextless reading. Various
readings may reassure or threaten. How one reads depends
upon where righteousness (and therefore wisdom) are
thought to be.
INTERTEXTUALITY:
ALLUSION AND VERTICAL CONTEXT SYSTEMS
IN SOME JOB PASSAGES*
Tryggve N.D. Mettinger
All literature participates in the discursive space of the culture

to which it belongs. This is an insight that we owe to the
recent increase of interest in intertextuality1 on the part of
present-day literary critics. A new text can only be fully
appreciated in terms of a prior body of discourse which it
implicitly or explicitly takes up, cites, prolongs, refutes or
transmutes. We may indeed speak of 'the intertextual nature
of any verbal construct' (Culler)2 and of the act of reading as
experiencing a series ofdeja lues (Barthes).3This participation
may manifest itself in various ways. In the introduction to her
analysis of T.S. Eliot's work, Marianne Thormahlen puts for-
ward the following list of key concepts which she uses to
analyse the work of Eliot: quotation, source, influence, allusion,
association, reminiscence, echo, suggestion and reference.4
The length of the list reveals that we are dealing with an
elusive and multifaceted phenomenon indeed. The recognition
* I would like to thank Professor Louise Vinge of the Department of

Comparative Literature of the University of Lund, Dr Marianne Thor-
mahlen of the Department of English, and Michael S. Cheney, ThM,
Gorau Eidevall and Dr Fredrik Lindstrom, all of the Department of Biblical
Studies of the University of Lund, for valuable discussions. Mr Cheney
checked my English. Unless otherwise indicated translations of biblical
quotations follow the NRSV.
1. The term seems to have been introduced by Kristeva (1967: esp.
440-41; cf. 1969: 255).
2. Culler 1983:101.
3. Barthes 1970: 26.
4. Thormahlen 1984: 12.
of the central intertexts that lie beneath the surface in poets
like Dante, Milton, Eliot and Joyce is the key to the apprecia-
tion of these works. A fortiori the same holds true of the Book
of Job, a work that Norman Whybray aptly describes as
belonging to Israel's 'intellectual tradition'.5 What I want to do
in this paper is to argue that our understanding of the Book
of Job can be fruitfully informed by the insights and per-
spectives of the modern study of intertextuality. In order to
lay the groundwork for this argument I shall first alert the
reader to some of the important contributions made by this
new discipline and then discuss some examples in Job.
1. The Study of Intertextuality

In his article 'Allusion' in The Princeton Handbook of Poetic
Terms, Earl Miner defines allusion as tacit reference to another
literary work, to another art, to history, to contemporary
figures, or the like'.6 Allusion differs from source-borrowing
since 'it requires the reader's acquaintance with the original
for full understanding and appreciation', says Miner.7 Literary
critics have felt the need to distinguish what Staffan Bergsten
in a study of allusion in Eliot called 'allusion proper*, which is
'intended by the author and depending on its source for its
full meaning', and 'mere reminiscence', 'the source being of no
significance to the meaning'.8 Applying a somewhat different
terminology, Laurent Jenny hints at the same distinction:
when a text alludes to or redeploys an entire structure, a
pattern of form and meaning from an earlier text, he speaks
of 'intertextuality proper'; when a text repeats an element
from an earlier text, without referring to the original meaning
in the original context, he speaks of 'simple allusion or
reminiscence'.9
5. Whybray 1974: 61-67. On Job's place in relation to the various

Israelite traditions see Roberts 1977.
6. Miner 1986:10.
7. Miner 1986:11.
8. Bergsten 1959: 10-11.
9. Jenny 1982: 40. Cf. Di Cesare, who studies Vida's imitations of the
Aeneid and distinguishes between three categories of derivative elements:
METTINGER Intertextuality 259
Major contributions to the issue of intertextuality come from
the pens of Bakhtin, Kristeva, Barthes, Riffaterre and Bloom.
I shall not here present a conspectus of their work; recent
contributions contain good surveys.10 Instead I would like to
call attention to the work of two literary critics whose con-
tributions should be of particular interest to Biblical scholars:
Claes Schaar and Gerard Genette.11
Claes Schaar prefaces his study of intertextuality in Milton's
Paradise Lost with a worthwhile discussion of what he calls
Vertical context systems'.12 What Schaar studies is the func-
tions of various derivative elements, ranging from 'allusions in
the proper sense of the term, overt or covert, and all conceiv-
able borderline cases down to reminiscences and faint echoes of
various kinds, quite irrespective of authors' awareness'.13 He
describes the vertical context systems 'as made up of a surface
context charged with additional meaning by contact with a
deep context, an infracontext, bearing some kind of verbal
similarity to the surface context...In a great number of cases
the additional meaning is of the connotative kind, and the
meaning of the surface context is modified, amplified, rein-
forced or brought into contrast by the infracontext.'14 On the
thorny problem of authorial intention Schaar takes a cautious
position, paying due homage to Wimsatt and Beardsley and
(a) the commonplace phrase, which just gives the illusion of the epic style,
(b) the echo, which makes clear the relation between Vida's work and
Virgil's, and (c) 'the evocative allusion', which Di Cesare defines as 'a
correspondence in language which, by recalling a passage, draws on the
emotions or meanings attached to that passage' (Di Cesare 1964:149).
10. See Pfister (1985), Jardin (1986) and Worton and Still (1991:1-44,
esp. 15-33). In addition to the literature mentioned in these surveys I
would like to call attention to Espmark (1985: esp. pp. 19-38). Among
studies of the general phenomenon of allusion I would like to mention
especially Vinge (1973) and Ben Porat (1974). Note also the useful
bibliography compiled by Perri et al. (1979).
11. Among the studies of intertextuality by exegetes I would like to
mention those by Ellen van Wolde (1989, 1990) and Kirsten Nielsen
(1990). Note also the various contributions (mostly New Testament
studies) in the Festschrift for Bas van lersel; see Draisma (1989).
12. Schaar 1975; 1978; 1982: esp. pp. 11-33.
13. Schaar 1982: 19-20.
14. Schaar 1978: 382.
their expose of 'the intentional fallacy*.15 Schaar does not
regard the question of whether or not an allusion is inten-
tional as the most significant one since, to him, 'the question,
"Is this passage an allusion?" does not always make sense, but
the question, "Does this passage suggest some other passage?"
always does...'16 Instead of focusing on author's intentions,
Schaar wants to stress the function of allusion.17 Here the
issue of recognition becomes important. An allusion is a kind
of coded message that can be decoded only by recipients
familiar with the nature of the code. If an allusion is not
recognized, the 'absent structure' (Eco) remains hidden, un-
decoded.18 When an allusion is recognized the vertical context
system becomes operational.19 Another term that is important
in Schaar's repertoire is 'matrix': 'A set of infracontexts
constitutes a matrix, a bed or mould which serves as the base
for the surface context and at the same time, up to a point,
determines its form'.20
Though he only vaguely relates his own work to that of the
well-known exponents of intertextuality and uses his own
terminology, it is nevertheless clear that Schaar is, in fact,
discussing nothing other than the phenomenon of inter-
textuality.21 Focusing on the role of allusive images in Para-
dise Lost, his study is important both for its theoretical
insights and for its erudite observations on a host of details in
Milton's vertical context systems. In his 1975 study Schaar
notes that 'the study of vertical contexts is in fact text
archaeology, and the past becomes the key to the present'.22
15. Wimsatt and Beardsley 1954.

16. Schaar 1975: 148. Note the discussion of this position by Vinge
(1973: 148-153), and see below.
17. Schaar (esp. 1982: 11-16).
18. Cf. Tinge 1973:142, referring to Eco 1968.
19. Schaar 1982: 17.
20. Schaar 1982: 26.
21. Note, for example, how close Jenny comes to Schaar in his under-
standing of intertextuality; see Jenny 1982: 44-45. Jenny points out that
intertextuality 'introduces a new way of reading which destroys the line-
arity of the text' (p. 44) and tends to see the intertextual reference as 'a
paradigmatic element' (p. 44).
22. Schaar 1975: 149.
The critical reader would perhaps remark that, in practice,
Schaar's investigation has a tendency to develop into a
variety of source hunting in which the function of an allusion
within the discursive universe of the new text does not always
receive due attention. But even so, Schaar opens new vistas
on vertical context systems that train our sight to recognize
and understand a number of important literary phenomena.
If Schaar works like an accomplished archaeologist, Gerard
Genette is the Linnaeus of intertextuality. His 'last word' on
the subject is the work Palimpsestes (1982), with a title that
borrows its metaphor from Jorge Luis Borges's story about
Pierre Menard who wrote the 'real' Don Quixote, which is a
verbatim copy of Cervantes's text, but is, nevertheless,
infinitely richer. This 'final' Quixote is seen by Borges as a
'palimpsest' where traces from previous writing are still visible
on the parchment. This way of looking at text is reflected in
the title of Genette's work, Palimpsestes: La litterature au
second degre (1982).23 Palimpsestes is a major attempt to map
the various phenomena usually found under the heading of
intertextuality. The focus of Genette's insightful and exten-
sive arguments is directed towards late works that contain
traces of the Odyssey, the Aeneid and Hamlet.
Genette creates his own terminological repertoire.24 His
overarching category is called 'transtextuality' and includes
anything explicit or implicit in a text that links the text to
others.25 Under this umbrella he discerns five main subcate-
gories. (1) The first of these is 'Kristevan' intertextuality, which
consists of phenomena such as allusion, quotation and
plagiarism. Much of both Bloom's and Riffaterre's studies
have dealt with this part of the terrain. (2) The second type is
paratextuality, defined as the relationships between the body
of the text and its titles, preface, epigraphs and the like—in
brief, that is, to the whole framework of the text. (3) A third
category is metatextuality. This is the relation of the com-
mentary to the text it comments upon, that is, the critic's
23. Cf. Genette 1982: 451-52.

24. For the following, see Genette 1982: 7-14. Note also his previous
work (1979).
25. Genette 1982: 7.
attitude to the text. (4) Architextuality takes within its scope
the more comprehensive types of discourse such as novel, epic,
essay, etc. This category takes cognizance of the fact that
when a reader recognizes a particular text as belonging to a
certain genre that text is automatically compared to other
texts from the same genre. (5) The last type is hypertextuality,
which comprises every relation that unifies a text B (the
hypertext) with a prior text A (the hypotext), onto which it
has been grafted so that it constitutes something other than a
mere commentary. The relationship of Joyce's Ulysses to
Virgil's Aeneid, and of both works to their Homeric hypotext
belong in this category. It is mainly this last type that absorbs
Genette's interest in the rest of his book.
After this brief presentation of Schaar's and Genette's views
of intertextuality I must make some further comments of a
more general nature. (1) The main problem in all discussions
of intertextuality is how to find criteria for establishing just
what constitutes an intertext behind a certain text. Kjell
Espmark26 cogently argues for a distinction between true
'dialogicity' and intertextuality in general.27 Within the latter,
the broader category, one finds many cases in which echoes of
earlier texts are heard in more recent works without eliciting
an articulate answer, when the past reverberates in the
present text without the present work asserting its own
position. Espmark talks of 'dialogicity' only when a reference
to a prior text can be identified as 'an intended semantic fact'
in the content-structure of the later work. This is his first
criterion. This criterion implies that Espmark's dialogicity is a
variety of intertextuality that is not first created in the mind
of the reader (it is not primarily a concept related to reader-
response criticism) but is a phenomenon 'present in the space
of the text at the moment when the poem is completed'.28
26. Espmark 1985: 26-27. Contrast Stierle (1983: 17), who argues for
the view that true dialogue presupposes the autonomy of the participants
in a way that is not found in intertextual relations. Espmark (1985: 25)
insists on the metaphor of dialogue because it highlights the aspect of the
intention of the later poet.
27. Cf. above in the introduction.
28. Espmark 1985: 27. As is well known, the question of authorial
In addition to this criterion Espmark also stresses the
necessity of specific similarities29 between text and intertext.
Here he touches upon what many others have discussed using
different terminology. Thus Riffaterre speaks of 'connectives'
between text and intertext.30 Vinge speaks of 'markers' that
work as signals, a function that is best served by the unusual
word, the specific construction, or the evocative, allusive
image.31 Schaar also makes use of the notion of signalling
devices: 'Strictly speaking, two stages are involved in the
appreciation of a vertical context system. Recognition means
that the surface context, operating as a signal, triggers a
memory of the infracontext. Then, as recognition turns to
understanding, the signal is transformed into a sign...as
surface and infracontexts coalesce.'32
One aspect of this discussion deserves special attention in
intention is a controversial issue. I would like to formulate my opinion as
follows: As part of a process of communication any literary work has a
structure. This structure is a manifestation of a Strukturwille, namely
that of the author. Since they participate in the recognizable construction
of a literary work, allusions are manifestations of the same Strukturwille,
and thus express the intentions of the author. I thus sympathize with the
position of Vinge (1973:148-53). A fairly straight line leads from Wimsatt
and Beardsley with the 'intentional fallacy* (originally pub. in 1946, repr.
1954) to the 'death of the author1 at the hands of Barthes—see Barthes
(1984: 61-67; originally published in 1968) and cf. Ljung*s survey (1991).
Espmark appears to be aware of the problem inherent in a position that
implies the abolition of the author. Nevertheless, he does not dare to speak
of author's intentions but only of'the intention of the text' (1985:133). Cf.
Panofsky*s essay on das Kunstwollen in pictorial art (Panofsky 1964).
Others have voiced a more whole-hearted refusal to take the pre-packaged
pontifications of deconstructionism as the final word on the matter. Note
especially Hirsch (1967); Steiner (1989: esp. 51-134); Backman (1991:
11, 14, 16, 31-33, 44, 46-48). But note also the critiques of Hirsch's
position by Lentricchia (1983: 256-80) and Cain (1984: 15-30). It was
Lentricchia (1983: 257) who coined the term 'the organic fallacy* to
describe the contention that Hirsch wants to excoriate, namely 'the
metaphorical doctrine that a text leads a life of its own* (Hirsch 1967:
212). Or the whole issue, cf. Barton (1984: 147-51,167-70).
29. Espmark (1985: 27) speaks of Ttvalificerad b'verensstammelse'.
30. Riffaterre 1991: 58.
31. Vinge 1973: 140.
32. Schaar 1982: 18.
our present context. Riffaterre has stressed that the marker,
the trace of the intertext, often or always takes the form of an
aberration on one or more levels of communication: lexical,
syntactical or semantic. It is in one way or another perceived
as a deviation from the norm, as an incompatibility, a 'non-
grammaticalite, au sense large du terme'.33 The markers are
distinguished from their context by their dual nature: They
are both the problem, when seen from the text, and the
solution to that problem when their other, intertextual side is
revealed', says RifFaterre.34
(2) The presence of an allusion creates an interaction
between text and intertext in a way that is reminiscent of the
way a metaphor works.35 Whether we classify all allusions as
a subclass of metaphors36 or we take only certain allusions to
be metaphorical ones,37 metaphor and allusion clearly belong
together as sense-expanding strategies. The semantic expan-
sion taking place by means of a metaphor could be described
as a = B while the one that takes place through an evocative
allusion is to be described as a < A. The reproduced element
serves as a vehicle for the poetic tenor that it acquires in the
new text. In the metaphor there is a movement across seman-
tic fields, in the allusion a transfer between literary contexts.
Of a certain interest in this connection is the fact that the
allusive signal sometimes triggers a memory of an earlier text
that may refer not just to one single point in that text but to
one or more of its larger sections as a unit. There are cases
when the marker allows a large portion, maybe even the
totality of the echoed text, to become part of the semantic
structure of the new poem. The source text is there, poten-
tially present, bearing all of its meaning without there being
any need to utter it', asserts Laurent Jenny.38 The allusion
33. Riffaterre 1980a: 5-6 (6); also 1980b: 627.

34. Riffaterre 1991: 58.
35. See e.g. Kittang and Aarseth 1985: 97-103; Still and Worton 1991:
10-11.
36. Thus Thornton 1968: 3.
37. Thus Miner 1986:11.
38. Jenny 1982: 45.
then works as a pars pro toto, as a case of synecdoche, as
Louise Vinge pointed out.39
(3) The intertextual relations between text and intertext
invite comparison and generally serve to produce either align-
ment or contrast. In the first case the effect is to provide
reinforcement or validation to the later text. Thus Gautier
writes,
Les dieux eux-memes meurent.
Mais les vers souverains
Demeurent
Plus fort que les airains.
His statement that the gods die but the 'sovereign' verses
remain, stronger than works of bronze, is quite understand-
able in itself: Masterfully written verses endure longer than
religions, which may last for millennia, and longer than works
of bronze. However, the marker 'airains' clearly makes an
allusion to Horace's classic formulation 'Exegi monumentum
acre perennius'. The tacit reference to this line is more than
an isolated piece of elegance. The allusion made to Horace's
words almost two millennia after their composition provides a
clear case in point for the contention formulated in the
modern poem.40
In addition, the allusion serves to produce contrast or
surprise, or to express an attitude of opposition on the part of
the characters in the story or even of the author of the more
recent poem. The allusion to Psalm 8 in Job 7, to which we
shall turn in a moment, is a good example.
2. Some Notes on Job

Without relating their enterprise to the discussion of inter-
textuality among the students of comparative literature, some
Old Testament scholars have applied a related perspective to
Job. Glaus Westermann, in his book Der Aufbau des Buches
Hiob (1956, 3rd edn 1978), called attention to the relations to
the psalms of lament and to hymnic material. Georg Fohrer's
39. Vinge 1973: 142.

40. The example was adduced by Vinge (1973: 144).
essay 'Form und Funktion in der Hiobdichtung* (1959) is also
an important contribution to the study of literary techniques
in the Book of Job. In this article, Fohrer pays special atten-
tion to the use of forms in Job and notes that they frequently
have a different function from the one they had in their
original setting. Katharine J. Dell, in The Book of Job as
Sceptical Literature (1991), devotes a chapter specifically to
the use of literary forms in Job. Relying heavily on Fohrer's
work, she discusses a number of cases of what she calls
'deliberate misuse of forms'.41 Among studies that touch upon
phenomena related to the major issue of intertextuality in Job
I would also like to mention Veronika Kubina's excursus on
what she calls the 'anthological style'.42 It is important to note
that these varieties of intertextual reference are not Espmark's
brand of active dialogue with one's poetic precursors.
Having recourse to the insights of these scholars, I shall
now comment on some intertextual relations in the Book of
Job, notably in the Job speeches.
a. Job 7
The Job speech in Job 7 deals with the futility of human life.
This theme is especially visible at three points: v. 8 'I shall be
gone [we'enennt]' (cf. 9-10), v. 16 'my days are breath' and
v. 21 'I shall not be [we'enennt]' ,43 In its portrayal of God the
text uses intertextual relationships to produce an effect of
parody and irony. This is certainly true in the well-known case
of Job 7.17-18's subversion of the hymnic praise in Ps. 8.5-6:
md-*nd§ kt-tizk'rennd
tiben-'adam kt tipq'dennd
wattehasserehfl me'at me*lohtm
w'kabdd ufhadar f'atfreha
41. Dell (1991: 110) makes the distinction between 'reuse' and 'misuse'
of a traditional form. By the second term she means 'a traditional form
being used with a different content and context'.
42. See Kubina 1979: 110-14, esp. 113-14. Cf. Fishbane 1988: 286-87.
The notion of an 'onthological style' was introduced by Robert in a series
of studies on Prov. 1-9; see Robert 1934-35. Note also Deissler's work on
Ps. 119 (Deissler 1955).
43. See Habel 1985: 153-56.
What are human beings that you are mindful of them,
mortals that you care for them?
Yet you have made them a little lower than God,
and crowned them with glory and honour (Ps. 8.5-6).
md-*nd§ kt fgadd'leruid
w'kt-taMt "dayw libbeka
wattipq'dennQ. labb'qarfm
lirgatm tibhanennd
What is man that you make so much of him,
fixing your mind upon him,
inspecting him every morning
at every moment testing him? (Job 7.17-18).44
The markers or traces of the intertext are unmistakable: the
construction ma-^noS ki and the use of the verb paqad, Visit
in mercy* (Ps. 8), Visit in anger', 'call to account' (Job 7). Job
7.17-18, just like Ps. 144.3-4, emanates from a sceptical tradi-
tion. The proud proclamation of the glory of humanity that is
the very point of Ps. 8.5-6 is left out. Ps. 8.6 has no counter-
part in the Job passage, nor in Psalm 144. Throughout, the
language of the infratext is reapplied ironically in the Job
passage.45 In the psalm the attitude is one of thankful wonder
at the grace of God towards insignificant humans. His
Visitation' is a welcome token of divine favour. In psalmic
language God's help in the morning is a well-known topos
linked with God's retributive justice against evildoers.46 In the
Job speeches, again, God's dealings are directed against Job:
God inspects him and tests him every morning. God's visita-
tion has become an unwelcome intrusion. This is emphasized
by two formulations framing the allusion in Job 7 to Psalm 8.
In v. 16b Job says, 'Let me alone...' In v. 19 he voices his
despair with the words: Will you not look away from me for a
while, let me alone until I swallow my spittle?'
The portrayal of God that results from the subversive use of
44. Translated after Clines 1989:157.

45. Cf. Fishbane 1988: 285-87; Clines 1989: 192-93; Spieckermann
1989: 237-38; Perdue 1991: 130-31.
46. Ps. 5.4; 46.6; 90.14; 143.8; Lam. 3.23; Mai. 3.20. Cf. Ziegler 1950;
Janowski 1989: esp. 180-91. Note the occurrence of this motif in Job
38.12-15.
Psalm 8 is effectively summarized in the participial description
of him as 'the Watcher of Humans', noser ha'adam (Job 7.20).
This is a formulation that may well contain an allusive asson-
ance to God asyoser, 'Creator*, in psalmic language.47
The surveillance metaphor is indeed central to the passage
and seems to be anticipated already in v. 8, with 'en rot, the
Seeing Eye', 'the eye of him who beholds me'. This formula-
tion seems to refer to God and to introduce its own irony into
the text by recalling the Hagar story of Genesis 16. At the
point of Hagar*s utter despair El-roi reveals himself to her.48 If
the formulation in Job 7 is an allusion to Genesis 16 (or the
tradition found there), the implication is very much the same
as that in 7.17-20. The Hagar story presents a God who cares,
saves and gives a new future. The associative assonance in
Job 7.8 ('en I'el) gives a hint that reminds the reader of the
subversive strategies of the text: it presents a God who is
engaged in merciless spying on humanity, an image counter
to that of the God of Hagar in Genesis 16 and a concept
contrary to that of the God of Psalm 8.
The same negative portrayal of God surfaces in an allusion
in v. 12: 'Am I the Sea, or the Dragon, that you set a guard
over me?'49 Note that v. 12 is couched as a rhetorical question
just like w. 17-18, and note the formal similarity between
w. 12b and 17b (î-clauses). The hymnic tradition speaks of a
God who subdues the Dragon, tannin.™ Here in Job 7.12 Job
finds himself standing in for the Dragon with whom God does
battle;51 Job himself is the target of God's assaults, the mipga'
(v. 20), a formulation that points forward to the laments on
God as the enemy in chs. 16 and 19 (esp. 16.12).
It is difficult to avoid the conclusion that the allusions in
47. Ps. 33.15; 94.9; Isa. 45.7, 18; 49.5; Jer. 10.16. For y&sar with
"addm as the object, see Gen. 2.7.
48. Note the occurrence of a certain 'Baal-roy, son of Zippor, of Gaza'
in the Egyptian Pap. Anastasi III (ANET, p. 258). This theophoric per-
sonal name may well help to explain the religio-historical background of
the Hagar story.
49. On Job 7.12, see esp. Diewert (1987) and Janzen (1989).
50. Ps. 74.13; Isa. 27.1; 51.9; Jer. 51.34; Ezek. 29.3.
51. See Mettinger (1992). On the role of the chaos battle motif,
especially in the speeches of God, see Mettinger (1988:189-98, with lit.).
Job 7 are 'intended semantic facts' in the content-structure of
the passage, especially in view of their distortions of the
images of the original texts/traditions. Furthermore, it is
difficult not to see that paying attention to the vertical context
systems that include Psalm 8 and Genesis 16 is an investment
that yields a richer understanding of the Job passage. It is
indeed the intertextual relations between text and intertexts
that fill out the structure and content of the Job passage to
their true dimensions.
b. Job 16.7-17 and 19.6-12

For our purposes, chs. 16 and 19, where God is portrayed by
the bold image of the brutal foe who lays Job under siege (ch.
19) and who defeats him in single combat (ch. 16), may be
taken together.
The suggestion has recently been made that 16.7-17 paro-
dies passages in Psalms where God gives strength to a person,
e.g. Ps. 94.18-19.52 However, I believe there are more attractive
possibilities. It is not easy to find one specific intertext.
However, we find in v. 9 a formulation that contains a rather
remarkable statement about God: 'appo tarap wayyist'irieni
haraq 'alay besinnayw, 'He has torn me in his wrath, and
hated me; he has gnashed his teeth at me...' I am inclined to
take v. 9 as a marker that signals an allusion, but not an
allusion to one individual text but to the conventional meta-
phors of a whole genre. The formulation in Job about God
tearing Job's flesh becomes understandable if we see it
against the background of the individual psalms of lament53
where the enemies are regularly portrayed as wild animals,
notably as lions who tear (tarap) the flesh of their prey (Pss.
7.3; 17.12; 22.14; cf. 10.9).54As Riffaterre pointed out, we can
see how the marker, the connective between the text and the
intertext, is both the problem (when seen from within the
52. Dell 1991:130.

53. Broyles (1989) recently suggested a new categorization of these
into pleas and complaints. For our purposes it does not seem necessary to
take a position vis-a-vis this suggestion.
54. In Ps. 50.22 God is the subject of this verb. Note the similarity
with the formulation in Ps. 7.3.
text) and the solution to that problem (when seen in the light
of the intertext). The same holds true for God's gnashing his
teeth at Job (16.9). Gnashing teeth is scarcely a main feature
of the Old Testament portrayals of God, but it is a favourite
preoccupation of the enemies in the psalms of lament (Pss.
35.16; 37.12; 112.10; cf. Lam. 2.16). The sudden switch to the
plural in v. 10 of our Job passage is in line with this. Drawing
on the notion of the evildoers from the Psalms, the poet easily
moves from God as the foe to a portrayal of God's entourage
in his hunting and military ventures.65 The markers in the
text then point to a play on an entire genre. Thus it appears
that this text employs the intertextual device that Genette
called architextuality.
The idea of a divine archer shooting his arrows at Job is a
metaphor specific to Job (see 16.12-13; cf. 6.4; 34.6). It may be
that this as well subtly alludes to the activities of the enemies
in the Psalms.56 However, it seems that the psalms of lament
utilize an established and conventionalized metaphor of God
as the divine archer who shoots his arrows at evildoers (cf.
Pss. 7.13-14;5764.8).58 I am inclined to take Job 16.12-13 as a
subversive use of this psalmic metaphor of God.
The nature of intertextual relations between this passage
and the genre of lament, therefore, tend to create contrast by
means of the conventional motifs of the lament genre: in Job,
God behaves in a way parallel to the role of the enemies of the
praying psalmist in the psalms of lament. And, with a particu-
lar twist of ambiguity, he treats Job in the same way that he
treats the enemies in these psalms. In Job 7.12, God treats Job
in the same way that he treats the Sea and the Dragon. In a
similar way the verb parar is used in our present passage (Job
16.12a), a verb also found in the Psalms in a chaos battle
55. Cf. Habel 1985: 264.

56. Cf. Pss. 11.2; 37.15; 57.5; 64.4.
57. In Ps. 7 God is probably the subject in w. 12-14; see Ravasi (1988:
165-76, esp. 168-70).
58. Note also the occurrence of the same motif to express the divine
punishment of Israel/Israelites in Deut. 32.23; Ps. 38.3; Lam. 3.12-13. On
YHWH as the divine archer, see Fredriksson (1945: 94-95).
context (Ps. 74.13), albeit not in an individual lament.59 No
wonder then that Job refers to God as his 'foe' (sari, 16.9; cf.
19.11 and note also the use of 'dyeb, 'enemy*, 13.24; 27.7; 33.10).
If Job 16 draws on the lament genre, as so much other
material in Job does, we should not overlook an important fact
pointed out by Frank Crusemann: the most central element of
the lament genre, namely petition to God, is strikingly absent
from the book.60 Never does Job pray for his restoration to his
former position, for his salvation from his suffering. While the
psalmist prays for God's benign attention, that he should turn
to him,61 Job tells God to leave him alone, a complete reversal
of the pattern found in the prayers of the Psalms (Job 7.16,
19; 10.20; 14.6).62The psalmists pray that God will vindicate
them and restore their rights (sopteni).63 Job never does so.64
In the psalms of lament the basic conflict is between the
praying psalmist and the evildoers, the enemies; God has the
role of the supreme judge who will at last vindicate his
faithful servant. In Job the basic conflict is between Job and
God; God is the enemy and accuser of Job, and so Job is left in
the peculiar situation of having no one to vindicate him.
Using Dell's terminology,65 we can say that Job 16 repre-
sents a 'misuse' of the lament genre to formulate a plea
against God. Or, with a neutral and therefore preferable term,
I would say that cases like Job 16 represent a 'metamorphic'
use of a traditional genre. Whatever the terminology, we
should not overlook the fact that at one rare but important
point in Job there may be a non-inverted use of the psalm of
59. On the meaning ofparar, see HALAT, p. 917 and BDB, p. 830.
60. Crusemann 1980: 375. Cf. Westermann 1978: 81-84.
61. With ra'd in Pss. 9.14; 59.5; 84.10; with nabat hiph. in Pss. 13.4;
74.20; 84.10; with 'al taster panGkain Pss. 27.9; 69.18; 143.7. Cf.
Aejmelaeus (1986: 26-29, 45-47).
62. Note, however, that the view of Job is very similar to Ps. 39.14:
haSa' mimmenrit wa'abltgd, Turn your gaze away from me, that I may
smile again...' But Ps. 39 may well be later than Job.
63. Pss. 7.9; 26.1; 35.24; 43.1; cf. with the root ryb 35.1; 43.1. Cf.
Aejmelaeus (1986: 37-39).
64. His desire to initiate litigation with God is something quite different;
see Roberts (1973).
65. Dell 1991: 110.
lament genre. When Job formulates his wish to see God
(19.26-27, timibb'sart 'ehezeh *loah), he does indeed hope for
something that the psalmists looked forward to (cf. '"ni besedeq
'eh'zeh paneka, 'I shall behold your face in righteousness', Ps.
17.15; cf. Pss. 11.7; 27.4,13).
From Job 16 we move on to Job 19.6-12. Here the same mar-
tial language continues but the siege metaphor now occupies
centre stage. This is especially clear from v. 6, ft,mesfidd 'dlay
hiqqtp, lie has thrown up his siegeworks against me',66 and
from v. 12, liis troops come on together; they have thrown up
siegeworks against me, and encamp around my tent'. Indeed,
the same metaphor is also found in Job 16.14: yipr*sent peres
'al-pene-pares, 'He breached me, breach after breach'.67
The use of the siege metaphor to describe God's dealings
with an individual may seem surprising. In Lamentations 3,
however, we find the same siege metaphor,68 but here it occurs
in a context that deals mainly with the sufferings of a city;
behind the agony of the individual of this text, of the suffering
person, stands suffering Zion.69 In addition to this, it happens
to be the case that there are some striking verbal similarities
between Job 19 and Lamentations 3. Job 19.8 reads: 'orht
gadar welo' 'e^bor we'al n'tibotay hoSek yasim, 'He has walled
up my way so that I cannot pass, and he has set darkness
upon my paths'. First, a similar use of gadar is found in Tarn.
3.7, lie walled (gadar) me about so that I cannot escape', and
in Lam. 3.9, 'he has blocked (gadar) my ways with hewn
stones, he has made my paths crooked Ciwwa)' (cf. Job 19.6a).
Secondly, the darkness upon Job's paths has a counterpart in
Lam. 3.2, 'he has driven and brought me into darkness
without any light', and 3.6, lie has made me sit in darkness'.
What are then the implications of these and other similari-
ties between the two texts?70 David Clines feels inclined to
66. Habel 1985: 289. Cf. Clines 1989: 427.

67. Translated by Habel (1985: 262). Cf. HALAT, pp. 914-15, for
cases where the verb is used about breaching into a city under siege.
68. Note also Ps. 3.7.
69. LindstrSm 1983: 214-36, esp. 219.
70. LevSque (1970: 384) lists a number of other points in common, but
the above-mentioned ones are the most striking.
believe that they 'must belong to a conventional stock avail-
able to both poets'.71 Jean Leveque, on the other hand, holds
that the Job author made deliberate use of Lamentations.72 It
is generally overlooked that there are two striking similarities
between Lamentations and the first passage we studied in
this section, Job 16. In this passage we find the sufferer des-
cribing himself as a target for the divine archer: wayqimeni Id
I'mattdra, 'he set me up as his target' (16.12). Similarly, in
Lam. 3.12 we read: 'He bent his bow and set me as a mark
(kammattdra') for his arrow'. In Job 16.16 Job says, pdnay
h°manneruh, 'my face glows from weeping*.73 The only other
cases of the verb used in this stem are in Lam. 1.20 and 2.11.
Although we cannot be entirely sure about this, I feel
inclined to agree with LeVeque that Job 19 represents a
deliberate allusion to Lamentations 3. Once again, the marker
has the dual nature of a problem and its solution, to use
Riffaterre's expression. The surprising application of the siege
metaphor to the predicament of an individual triggers a
memory of Lamentations 3. We must therefore ask what
function is fulfilled by the allusions to Lamentations in Job 16
and 19. 'An allusion achieves its purpose through inviting a
comparison and contrast of the context in which it occurs with
the original context', says Weldon Thornton.74 This is precisely
what is happening in the text under examination. By means
of a light use of allusion, the poet strikes a note that makes
the themes of Lamentations echo in his text. Behind Job the
reader discovers the figure of the mystical T who suffers and
laments in Lamentations 3, that is, personified Zion.75
Suffering Job finds his fate an unresolved riddle. Along the
same lines, it should be noted that Zion's suffering presented
a paradox to any Israelite, when seen in the light of God's
previous promises to maintain and protect his city.76 However,
71. Clines 1989:442.

72. Levgque 1970: 385.
73. My translation.
74. Thornton 1968: 3.
75. Leveque 1970: 385.
76. See Lam. 2.15; 4.12; and cf. Albrektson (1963: 214-39, esp. 219-
30); Renkema (1983: 267-323).
the poet of Lamentations sees the ultimate explanation for the
suffering of Zion in her former sins.77 Such explanations,
however, are not accepted by Job. Yet another contrast is to
be found in the fact that the suffering 'individual' in
Lamentations looks forward to deliverance,78 while Job is
completely devoid of hope. Therefore, it should be observed
that the allusions to Lamentations 3 in Job 19 serve at one
and the same time to produce both alignment and contrast.
Our observations on Job 16.7-17 and 19.6-12 may thus be
summarized as follows. We see here how two different but
related vertical context systems surface in the Job passages.
Drawing on the conventional motifs of the genre of lament,
the poet depicts Job as standing in the place of the enemy
whom God annihilates, that is, in the position conventionally
assigned to evildoers under divine judgment. Furthermore, he
speaks of God as acting towards Job in the same way that the
enemies do in their attacks on the sufferer in the psalms of
lament. Genette's model would place this phenomenon under
the heading of architextuality. This could be further qualified
by noting that what we have here is a metamorphic use of a
conventional genre, which serves to highlight the acute incon-
gruousness of Job's situation. Thus by alluding to the meta-
phor of Zion as a suffering man in Lamentations 3 the poet
presents the metaphor of suffering Job as a city under siege.
By means of this intertextual strategy the poet places added
emphasis on Job's guiltlessness. His is a suffering that is even
more paradoxical than the sufferings of devastated Zion.
3. Concluding Remarks
The Book of Job draws on literary material from a very wide
range of backgrounds: wisdom, law, cult, psalmody, etc. As
Norman Whybray puts it, *What is surprising about the book
of Job is not that its author was familiar with these various
forms, which would be part of Israel's literary and cultural
heritage, but that he felt free to use them as he chose'.79 What
77. Lam. 1.18, 20, 22; 3.42; 4.6, 13, 22.

78. Lam. 3.22-25, 31-32, 58-59.
79. Whybray 1974: 63.
I have preferred to call the metamorphic use of a traditional
genre is a literary technique that the Job author seems to
utilize especially in the speeches of Job.80 We noticed how Job,
in his expostulations against God, refers to a paradoxical
change of roles: suddenly God is threatening him as an
enemy from the psalms of lament, God is treating him as he
treats enemies and monsters in the Psalms—that is, God has
adopted the role of the enemy, God himself has become a
monster. This ingenious change of roles has a corollary in the
second speech of God.81 In the introduction to this speech (Job
40.6-14), God suggests that Job switch roles with him: 'Have
you an arm like God...Look on all who are proud, and bring
them low; tread down the wicked where they stand' (40.9,12).
Job is invited to assume God's role—if he is able to do this!
This invitation is formulated in a passage that anticipates the
body of the speech where God subdues Behemoth and
Leviathan. Job's accusation against God for treating him and
the world like a criminal (cf. 9.22-24)82 is countered by God
with a speech portraying God as one who subdues the
wicked.83 An awareness of the author's use of intertextual
techniques and especially of his metamorphic use of conven-
tional motifs and genres thus helps us to better grasp the
great compositional contrasts of the Book of Job. There is a
deep truth in the superficially obvious statement that 'the
identification of an intertext is an act of interpretation'.84
80. Cf. Dell 1991: 136-38.

81. This was pointed out to me by Dr Fredrik Lindstrom.
82. Note Dion (1987: 189) for the interesting observation of a close
similarity between Job 9.22b and what is said in the Erra Epic (5.10)
where the Mesopotamian pestilence god Erra says in the first person:
The righteous and the wicked, I did not distinguish, I felled'.
83. Insufficient attention to the new understanding of the speeches of
God in Job is a weakness in the otherwise very fine work by Dell. See Keel
(1978); Kubina (1979); Mettinger (1988:185-200).
84. Frow 1991: 46.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Aejmelaeus, A.
1986 The Traditional Prayer in the Psalms (BZAW, 167; Berlin:
de Gruyter).
Albrektson, B.
1963 Studies in the Text and Theology of the Book of Lamentations
(Studia Theologica Lundensia, 21; Lund: Gleerup).
Backman, G.
1991 Meaning by Metaphor (Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis. Studia
Anglistica Upsaliensia, 75; Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell).
Barthes, R.
19770 S/Z (Paris: Seuil).
1984 Essais critiques. IV. Le bruissement de la langue (Paris: Seuil).
Barton, J.
1984 Reading the Old Testament: Method in Biblical Study
(Philadelphia: Westminster Press).
Beardsley, M.C.
See Wimsatt.
Ben Porat, Z.
1974 The Poetics of Allusion (PhD dissertation, University of
California, Berkeley). Not consulted; cited by Perri (1979:180).
Bergsten, S.
1959 'Illusive Allusions. Some Reflections on the Critical Approach
to the Poetry of T.S. Eliot', Orbis Litterarum 14: 9-18.
Broyles, C.C.
1989 The Conflict of Faith and Experience in the Psalms (JSOTSup,
52; Sheffield: JSOT Press).
Cain, W.E.
1984 The Crisis in Criticism (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University
Press).
Clines, D.J.A.
1989 Job 1-20 (WBC, 17; Dallas: Word Books).
Crusemann, F.
1980 'Hiob und Kohelet', in R. Albertz et al. (eds.), Werden und
Wirken des Alten Testaments (Festschrift C. Westermann;
Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht), pp. 373-93.
Culler, J.
1983 The Pursuit of Signs: Semiotics, Literature, Deconstruction
(London: Routledge & Kegan Paul [1981]).
Deissler, A.
1955 Psalm 119 (118) und seine Theologie (Miinchener Theo-
logische Studien, 1/11; Miinchen: Karl Zink).
Dell, K.J.
1991 The Book of Job as Sceptical Literature (BZAW, 197; Berlin:
de Gruyter).
Di Cesare, M.A.
1964 Vida's Christiad and Vergilian Epic (New York: Columbia
University Press).
Diewert, D.A.
1987 'Job 7.12: Yam, Tannin and the Surveillance of Job', JBL 106:
203-15.
Dion, P.E.
1987 'Formulaic Language in the Book of Job: International
Background and Ironical Distortions', SR 16:187-93.
Draisma, S. (ed.)
1989 Intertextuality in Biblical Writings: Essays in Honour of
Bas van lersel (Kampen: Kok).
Eco, U.
1968 La struttura assente (Milan: Valentino Bompiani).
Eslinger, L.
1992 'Inner-Biblical Exegesis and Inner-Biblical Allusion: The
Question of Category1, VT 42: 47-58.
Espmark, K.
1985 Dialoger (Stockholm: Norstedts).
Fishbane, M.
1988 Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon
Press [1985], corrected paperback edition).
Fohrer, G.
1959 Torm und Funktion in der Hiobdichtung', ZDMG 109: 31-49.
Fredriksson, H.
1945 Jahwe als Krieger (Lund: Gleerup).
Frow, J.
1991 'Intertextuality and Ontology', in Worton and Still 1991: 45-55.
Genette, G.
1979 Introduction a I'architexte (Paris: Seuil).
1982 Palimpsestes: La litte'rature au second degre (Paris: Seuil).
Habel, N.C.
1985 The Book of Job: A Commentary (OTL; London: SCM).
Hirsch, E.D.
1967 Validity in Interpretation (New Haven: Yale University Press).
Janowski, B.
1989 Rettungsgewissheit und Epiphanie des Heils: Das Motiv der
Hilfe Gottes 'am Morgen' im Alien Orient und im Alien
Testament, I (WMANT, 59; Neukirchen: Neukirchener Verlag).
Janzen, J.G.
1989 'Another Look at God's Watch over Job (7.12)', JBL 108: 109-14.
Jardin, A.
1986 'Intertextuality', in Th. A. Sebeok (ed.), Encyclopedic Dictionary
of Semiotics (Approaches to Semiotics, 73; Amsterdam:
Mouton; Berlin: de Gruyter).
Jenny, L.
1982 'The Strategy of Form', in T. Todorov (ed.), French Literary
Theory Today (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press [1982]):
34-63; originally published as 'La strategic de la forme',
Poetique 27 (1976): 257-81.
Keel, O.
1978 Jahwes Entgegnung an Ijob (FRLANT, 121; Gottingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht).
Kittang, A., and A. Aarseth
1985 Lyriske strukturer (Oslo: Universitetsforlaget [1968]).
Kristeva, J.
1967 TJakhtine, le mot, le dialogue et le roman' Critique 239: 438-
65.
1969 Semeiotike: Recherch.es pour une s6manalyse. Essais (Paris:
Seuil).
Kubina, V.
1979 Die Gottesreden im Buche Hiob (Freiburger Theologische
Studien, 115; Freiburg: Herder).
Lentricchia, F.
1983 After the New Criticism (London: Methuen, paperback edn
[1980]).
Leveque, J.
1970 Job et son Dieu (EBib; Paris: Gabalda).
Lindstrom, F.
1983 God and the Origin of Evil: A Contextual Analysis of Alleged
Monistic Evidence in the Old Testament (ConBOT, 21; Lund:
Gleerup).
Ljung, P.E.
1991 'Vart tog forfattaren vagen?', Tidskrift for litteraturvetenskap
20: 36-60.
Mettinger, T.
1988 In Search of God: The Meaning and Message of the Everlasting
Names (Philadelphia: Fortress Press).
1992 The God of Job: Avenger, Tyrant, or Victor?', in L.G. Perdue
and W.C. Gilpin (eds.), The Voice from the Whirlwind:
Interpreting the Book of Job (Nashville: Abingdon Press),
pp. 39-49, 233-36.
Miner, E.
1986 'Allusion', in A. Preminger (ed.), The Princeton Handbook of
Poetic Terms (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press): 10-11.
Nielsen, K.
1990 'Intertextuality and Biblical Scholarship', SJOT1990/2: 88-95.
Panofsky, E.
1964 TDer Begriff des Kunstwollens' (originally pub. in 1920), in his
Aufsatze zur Grundlagen der Kunstwissenschaft (ed.
H. Oberer and E. Verheyen; Berlin: Bruno Hessling): 33-47.
English Version: 'The Concept of Artistic Volition', Critical
Inquiry 8 (Autumn, 1981): 17-33.
Perdue, L.G.
1991 Wisdom in Revolt: Metaphorical Theology in the Book of Job
(JSOTSup, 112; Sheffield: JSOT Press).
Perri, C. et al.
1979 'Allusion Studies: An International Annotated Bibliography,
1921-1977', Style 13:178-225.
Pfister, M.
1985 'Konzepte der Intertextualitat', in U. Broich and M. Pfister
(eds.), Intertextualitat, Formen, Funktionen, anglistische Fall-
studien (Tubingen: Max Niemeyer): 1-30.
Pucti.P.
1987 Odysseus Polutropos: Intertextual Readings in the Odyssey
and the Iliad (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press).
Ravasi, G.
1988 II libra dei Salmi, I (Bologna: Edizioni Dehoniane).
Renkema, J.
1983 'Misschien is er hoop...' De theologische vooronderstellingen
van het boek van Klaagliederen (Franeker: Wever).
Riffaterre, M.
1978 The Semiotics of Poetry (Bloomington: University of Indiana
Press).
1980a 'La trace de rintertexte', La Pensee 215: 4-18.
1980b 'Syllepsis', Critical Inquiry 6: 625-38.
1991 'Compulsory Reader Response: The Intertextual Drive', in
Worton and Still 1991: 56-78.
Robert, A.
1934-35 'Les attaches litteraires bibliques des Prov. I-DC, RB 43 (1934),
pp. 42-68,172-204,374-84 and RB 44 (1935), pp. 344-65, 502-25.
Roberts, J.J.M.
1973 'Job's Summons to Yahweh: The Exploitation of a Legal
Metaphor', RestQ 16: 159-65.
1977 'Job and the Israelite Religious Tradition', ZAW 89: 107-14.
Schaar, C.
1975 'Vertical Context Systems', in Style and Text: Studies
Presented to Nils Erik Enkvist (Stockholm: Almqvist &
Wiksell): 146-57.
1978 'Linear Sequence, Spatial Structure, Complex Sign, and
Vertical Context System', Poetics 7: 377-88.
1982 The Full Voic'd Quire Below: Vertical Context Systems in
Paradise Lost (Lund Studies in English, 60; Lund: Gleerup).
Spieckermann, H.
1989 Heilsgegenwart: Eine Theologie der Psalmen (FRLANT, 148;
Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht).
Steiner, G.
1989 Real Presences: Is There Anything in What we Say? (London:
Faber).
Stierle, K.
1983 'Werk und Intertextualitat', in W. Schmid and W.-D. Stempel
(eds.), Dialog der Texte: Hamburger Kolloquium zur Inter-
textualitat (Wiener Slawistischer Almanach. Sonderband 11;
Wien): 7-26.
Still, J., and M. Worton
1991 'Introduction', in Worton and Still (1991): 1-44.
Thormahlen, M.
1994 Eliot's Animals (Lund Studies in English, 70; Lund: Gleerup).
Thornton, W.
1968 Allusions in Ulysses (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina
Press).
Vinge, L.
1973 'Om allusioner', Tidskrift for litteraturvetenskap 2: 138-54.
Westermann, C.
1978 Der Aufbau des Bitches Hiob (Stuttgart: Calwer Verlag, 3rd
edn [1956]).
Whybray, R.N.
1974 The Intellectual Tradition in the Old Testament (BZAW, 135;
Berlin: de Gruyter).
1981 The Identification and Use of Quotations in Ecclesiastes',
Congress Volume, Vienna 1980 (ed. J.A. Emerton; VTSup, 32;
Leiden: Brill): 435-51.
Wimsatt, W.K. and M.C. Beardsley
1954 The Intentional Fallacy' [1946], repr. in Wimsatt, The Verbal
Icon (Lexington: University of Kentucky Press): 1-18.
Wolde, E. van
1989 Trendy Intertextuality?', in Draisma 1989: 43-50.
1990 'Van tekst via tekst naar betekenis. Intertekstualiteit en haar
implicaties', Tijdschrift voor Theologie 30: 333-61.
Worton, M., and J. Still (eds.)
1991 Intertextuality: Theories and Practices (Manchester: Man-
chester University Press, paperback edn [1990]).
Ziegler, J.
1950 'Die Hilfe Gottes am Morgen', in Alttestamentliche Studien
(Festschrift Notscher; BBB, 1; Bonn: Peter Hanstein): 281-88.
JUDAH AND TAMAR (GENESIS 38)
J. Alberto Soggin
1. Within the Story of Joseph, the episode of Judah and Tamar

is obviously an independent literary unit. It does not connect
in any way with the adventures of Joseph, and its relations to
the remaining patriarchal stories are very tenuous. This must
be maintained against E.A. Speiser (1964), who would like to
see a connection with ch. 37. Moreover, the story has clearly
an independent, new beginning: Judah starts a business on
his own with a Canaanite partner, as we shall see; he marries
a Canaanite woman and founds a family outside of his
father's house. Less clear is the conclusion of the story: Tamar
has a son by her father-in-law, but we hear nothing about
the brother-in-law who was supplied to fulfil the obligation of
the levirate. What has happened we are not told; perhaps the
fact that Tamar had a son by her father-in-law was con-
sidered to be sufficient. In any case, the chapter does not
debouch into ch. 39 and therefore shows its fundamental
independence. If it must be classified, I would rather consider
it an independent part of the Jacob cycle, something like
ch. 34 (see Westermann 1982 for details).
2. The translation does not present any major difficulty.

Verse 1: The root nata, used also in vv. 12 and 20, has a
specialized meaning, not the usual one, 'to open a tent'
(figuratively 'heavens' in II Isaiah), but something that has to
do with business. I propose therefore a root nata II, with the
meaning 'to join (in business)' or something similar, against B.
Jacob, who would like to render '...he pitched his tent as far
as Adullam'.
Verse 2: stia' is the name of the father of the bride, not of
the bride herself; cf. v. 12, where she appears as bat §ua', and
1 Chron. 2.3, against the rendering of the LXX.
Verse 6: tamdr is the 'date palm'.
Verse 9: The practice followed by the levirate husbands is
the one medically defined as coitus interruptus; it is condemned
here for the lack of consideration it shows for the woman and
her rights, not as a practice in itself, an issue about which
nothing is being said.
Verse 11: To blame the woman in such cases and attribute
everything to her evil powers is done also in Tob. 3.7-9 and
8.9-11.
Verse 14 confronts the reader with the only textual diffi-
culty of the episode. I propose to render,'... she sat down at the
cross-road on the way to Timnah', according to the reading of
the Vg (followed by the Syr), in bivio itineris; it is known also
to Jewish mediaeval exegesis (texts in Jacob 1966). The
Hebrew 'she sat down at the gate of'enayim...' makes hardly
any sense, and a place by that name is unknown. The 'veil' is
part of the dress of a married woman (Jdt. 10.2; 16.9), and not
of a prostitute, who, on the contrary, is supposed to be looked
at; it is only because of the veil that Judah does not recognize
his daughter-in-law (so rightly Jacob), zona is the ordinary
harlot.
Verse 18: 'erabdn in the meaning of 'pawn' or 'earnest money'
is a Graecism; cf. otppaptov, well known from the New Testa-
ment in the Pauline epistles. To derive it from the Akkadian
erub(b)atu(m) (AHw, I, p. 248), a rare word that appears in
ancient Assyrian, as suggested by E.A. Speiser (1964), is rather
improbable. The 'seal' is not a ring, as many commentaries
propose, but a major implement carried at one's belt or neck.
Verse 21: qedesa is the cultic harlot attached to a temple.
Our text seems to confuse the two categories.
Verse 24: In many archaic societies a woman having sex
outside wedlock is called a harlot, even if she has not been
professionally engaged; here the charge is supported by the
fact that she had disguised herself as such; on the other hand
it is difficult to say how she would have been recognized, as
her father-in-law had been unable to do so. The death
sentence at the stake is not prescribed for adultery except in
SOGGIN Judah and Tamar 283
certain cases (Lev. 20.14; 21.8); stoning seems to have been
the common penalty (Lev. 20.10; Deut. 22.23-25; cf. Ezek.
16.40; Jn 8.5). Further, Tamar being a widow, one should not
speak about adultery at all. The whole conclusion of the story
is typical for the fairy tale, in which sometimes extravagant
forms of penalties are threatened, but in the end, for some
reason, they are never applied.
In w. 3 and 30 we have a masculine form where a feminine
one is expected (so rightly w. 4 and 5). In v. 14 waWkas is not
correct; one ought to read either wattitekas with Sam., TgO
and Syr, or the niph'al wattikas (Skinner 1930). In v. 24 read
kemi§elo§et, and not kemi§elos. In v. 29 read either kaha§ibo
with LXX (d)g 8e eTtio-uvfiyayev IT\V xeipa), or kemo he§ib.
3. It seems to be impossible to assign our text to one of the

sources of the Pentateuch: attempts to propose J clash both
with the fact that none of the characteristic elements of J
can be found and with the interest in genealogies (w. 1-2 and
27-30).
3.1. Other proposals have been made to explain the origin
and the scope of our text. G. von Rad (1972) thinks of an
ancient tribal situation; others believe in oral tradition, origi-
nating among the successors of Judah and Tamar (so, for
example, Westermann 1982); but all this ought to be proved
before being proclaimed as obvious; in the next lines I shall
present some elements that I think prove exactly the contrary
(see §4).
3.2. C. Westermann is on the right track when he observes
that our chapter reminds the reader of the book of Ruth; in
both cases the reader is confronted with a family story, not a
tribal story, in which the author speaks to his people about
ancestry. As in Ruth (where there is one of the rare cases in
which reference is made to another biblical episode), relations
with the Canaanite population are friendly—not only is there
good neighbourliness and commerce, but also intermarriage—
a difference between Ruth and our chapter lies in the lack of
a conversion by Judah's wife, something hinted at in Ruth
1.16. On these bases most authors have been thinking of an
ancient tradition coming from a time in which Israelites and
Canaanites were living peaceably side by side, in any case
before Deuteronomy and later texts.
3.3. In the context of this family story the text treats the
problem of levirate marriage. About it little is known, not even
if and how far it was ever practised. Its task was evidently to
solve the problem of widows who had become such without
having borne a child to their deceased husbands (see further
§4). And the widow of the story is presented in the act of using
a ruse, in order to bring about the application of the law in
her situation, something that had not been the case; and such
a ruse was not without danger, as one can see.
3.4. Interesting is the notice that Judah separates himself
from his family and starts a business on his own with a
Canaanite partner—if this is the way we should render the
verb—and marries a Canaanite woman, something that
happens later also to his eldest son.
4. To ask the question, whether the story originated in Israel

or in Canaan (so, if I understand him rightly, Emerton
[1979]) does not, as it seems to me, do justice to the very point
the narrator is trying to make; it would be like asking
whether the book of Ruth originated in Judah or in Moab.
Our text does not draw a sharp distinction between the two
ethnic groups. It does not even consider the possibility that
there may have been a difference in religion, something that
Ruth 1.16 acknowledges. No doubt, in any case our text
reflects a situation later than the Israelite settlement, as
Emerton (1975) has proved.
4.1. But there are some other, interesting clues that suggest
a much later date:
1. First of all, the generally accepted analogies with the
book of Ruth, which must be maintained by all
differences in some details (see further §5.2-3).
2. Analogies with the deuteronocanonical books of Tobit
in w. 11 and 14, and Judith in v. 14.
3. The not always correct and precise use of Hebrew
forms in w. 3, 5, 14, 24 and 29, something that could
be a sign that Hebrew was no longer currently spoken
where the text originated.
4. A Graecism in w. 18 and 20.
5. The imprecise use ofzona and qedesa.
6. These elements, if taken one by one, would hardly be
sufficient, but their quantity is at least impressive.
5. Similar considerations can be made about the institution of
levirate marriage, a practice attested also among other
peoples.
5.1. The word comes from the Latin levir, 'brother-in-law'.
Apart from our text, the institution is mentioned in Ruth 4,
while Deut. 24.5-10 gives the legal formulation of the princi-
ple. There is no other evidence in the Hebrew Bible. An inten-
tionally paradoxical formulation is found in the New
Testament (Mt. 22.23-33 and parallels).
5.2. Levirate marriage consisted of the obligation to the sur-
viving brother to produce children with the sister-in-law, the
first-born of which was considered a son of the deceased
(Gunkel 1910). The institution aims first of all, therefore, at
securing for the deceased the son he had not been able to
father during his life (Deut. 25.6b); later, a provision was
made that the son thus born would also inherit the wealth of
the deceased. Different seems to be the situation in Ruth 4:
here the law applies to the next of kin, whose task it was to
ransom the possessions of a debtor; with these possessions he
received also the widow.
5.3. It is not stated that the brother of the deceased had the
obligation to marry the widow. The widow's only right was to
receive a child from him (Coats 1979). Their union was
therefore a precarious one, which ceased after reaching its
aim. With Ruth the situation is again different.
5.4. The brother-in-law of Tamar resists the institution that
he evidently considers repugnant, but not openly, and simu-
lates a fulfilment that has not taken place; and for this he is
chastised. That people should resist the practice is anticipated
by Deut. 25.7, but no enforcement of the law is foreseen.
There is, further, no question of the consent of the widow,
probably because it was supposed that she would agree in any
case. In Lev. 18.16 and 20.21 there are, further, norms which
seem to forbid the practice altogether!
5.5. But it is difficult to consider our text, as B. Jacob puts it,
as anterior to this norm; it is, rather, a text which aims at
illustrating how the institution worked (or, better, did not
work) in practice, without any pretence to legal clarity.
6. At the end we should ask: What is the aim of this chapter?

The analogies with the book of Ruth show it rather clearly:
Perez is in both texts (cf. Ruth 4.18, an ancestor of David, and
1 Chron. 2.3-5), so that the two texts aim at providing a gene-
alogy for King David, both stressing the Canaanite element in
the mothers. But there are also differences between the two
books: in Ruth something like a conversion to Judaism by the
Moabite partner takes place, an element completely absent
from our text. Ruth appears therefore as the theologically
more mature work, part of the missionary effort that dis-
tinguished later Judaism and especially the Pharisees. Both
writings belong, in any case, to those texts that appear to be
fundamentally friendly towards the Canaanites and the non-
Israelites in general; to the same group one may assign also
the book of Jonah, albeit without a Davidic genealogy.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Aharoni, Y.
1963 Tamar and the Roads to Elath', IEJ 19: 30-42.
Astour, M.C.
1966 Tamar and the Hierodule', JBL 85:185-86.
Blum, E.
1984 Die Komposition der Vatergeschichte (WMANT, 57; Neukir-
chen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag).
Carmichael, C.M.
1977 'A Ceremonial Crux: Removing a Man's Sandals as a Female
Gesture of Contempt', JBL 96: 321-36.
Cassuto, U.
1973 'The Story of Tamar and Judah', in Biblical and Oriental
Studies, I (Jerusalem: Magnes): 108-17 (original, 1929).
Coats, G.W.
1972 Widow's Rights: A Crux in the Structure of Gen. 38', CBQ 34:
461-66.
Emerton, J.A.
1975 'Some Problems in Genesis xxxviii', VT 25: 338-61.
1976 'An Examination of a Recent Structuralist Interpretation of
Gen. xxxviii', VT 26: 79-98.
1979 'Judah and Tamar', VT 29: 403-15.
Goldin, J.
1977 'The Youngest Son, or Where does Genesis 38 Belong?', JBL
96: 27-44.
Gunkel, H.
1910 Genesis (HKAT, I/I; Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 3rd
edn).
Jacob, B.
1934 Genesis (Berlin: Schocken; repr. New York: Ktav, 1966).
Lipinski, E.
1973 'L'etymologie de "Juda"', VT 23: 380.
Luther, B.
1906 'Die Novelle von Juda und Tamar und andere israelitische
Novellen', in E. Meyer and B. Luther, Die Israeliten und ihre
Nachbarstamme (Halle: M. Niemeyer): 173-206.
Niditch, S.
1979 The Wronged Woman Righted: An Analysis of Gen. 38', HTR
72:143-48.
Puukko, A.F.
1949 'Die Leviratsehe in den altorientalischen Gesetzen', ArOr 17:
296-99.
Rad, G. von
1972 Das erste Buck Mose: Genesis (3 vols.; ATD, 2-4; Gdttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 9th edn).
Rendsburg, G.A.
1986 David and his Circle in Genesis xxxviii', VT 36: 438-46.
Ridout, G.
1974 The Rape of Tamar', in Rhetorical Criticism: Essays in Honor
of James Muilenburg (ed. J.J. Jackson and M. Kessler;
Pittsburgh: Pickwick Press): 75-84.
Ska, J.-L.
1988 'L'ironie de Tamar (Gen. 38)', ZAW100: 261-63.
Skinner, J.
1930 Genesis (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 2nd edn).
Speiser, E.A.
1964 Genesis (AB, 1; Garden City, NY: Doubleday).
Westermann, C.
1982 Genesis (BKAT, I/3;Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag).
LES MILIEUX DU DEUTERONOME
Henri Gazelles
Decrivant r£cemment un milieu qu'il connait bien,1 R.N.

Whybray nous avertissait qu'il ne fallait pas identifier sans
plus les 'sages' (hak&mtm) de la Bible h6brai'que avec une
classe professionnelle de scribes. II notait toute une se'rie de
passages bibliques ou hdkdm designe essentiellement des
personnes 'intelligemment bien douees...ou avant acquis un
savoir-faire'.2 II admettait que ces personnes puissent avoir £t£
en rapports avec la cour du roi, mais sans en faire une
exclusivity. Des changements ont pu se produire tout au long
de la monarchic.
Cette observation est d'importance a un moment ou
1'actualite exe'ge'tique est fortement concerned par le probleme
des milieux d'ou est issu le mouvement deuteronomique. Le
milieu des 'sages' n'est pas seul en cause. On a pu faire appel
au milieu prophetique, au milieu levitique, au milieu des
juges, au milieu des 'anciens', au milieu agraire, au milieu de
1'administration, aux responsables des traites internationaux
...comme etant a 1'origine de la composition du Deut6ronome

(BZAW, 135; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1974).
2. The Sages in the Israelite Royal Court', dans The Sage in Israel
and the Ancient Near East (6d. J.L. Gammie et L.G. Perdue; Winona Lake,
IN: Eisenbrauns, 1990), pp. 133-39: 'natural intelligence... acquired skill';
'Prophecy and Wisdom', dans Israel's Prophetic Tradition: Essays in Honour
of Peter R. Ackrayd (6d. R.J. Coggins, A. Phillips et M.A. Knibb; Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press), pp. 181-99 (sp. 194 sur Involution de la
notion de hokmah). Voir aussi R. Murphy, 'shared approach to reality*
CWisdom: Theses and Hypotheses', dans Israelite Wisdom: Theological
and Literary Essays in Honor of Samuel Terrien [Missoula, MT: Scholars
Press, 1978], p. 39).
GAZELLES Les Milieux du Deuteronome 289
en fonction de ce que les uns appellent son ideologic, et
d'autres sa theologie. II est certain que ces milieux n'Staient
pas etanches. Administration, sages, redacteurs, des traites
6taient naturellement lies a la cour royale.
S. Loersch,3 P. Buis-J. Leclercq,4 A.D.H. Mayes5 et H.J.
Preuss6 ont donn6 des aper9us synthetiques sur les solutions
proposers dans 1'exegese contemporaine. Mais le travail a
continue et fait 1'objet de monographies qui completeront les
references donne"es par les auteurs precedents.
Une origine du Deuteronome dans un milieu Levitique a etc
preconisê par Baudissin, Horst, Buis-Leclercq, Bentzen,
Lindblom, de Vaux et particulierement developpee par von
Rad.7 Alors qu'Ezechiel et le code sacerdotal donnent aux
Levites un statut inferieur aux kohanim, le Dtn parait les
assimiler dans les expressions hakohanim halewiyyim
(17,9.18; 18,1.8; 24,8; 27,9) ou kohanim beney lewy (21,5;
31,9). Par ailleurs, dans le Dtn, les fonctions sacerdotales sont
exercees indifferemment par des pretres (10,6; 17,12; 18,3;
20,2; 26,3-4) ou par des levites (10,8; 18,6-7; 31,25; 33,8-11 et
3. S. Loersch, Das Deuteronomium und seine Deutungen (Stuttgart,

1962).
4. P. Buis et J. Leclercq, Le Deuteronome (Paris: Gabalda, 1963),
pp. 12-18.
5. A.D.H. Mayes, Deuteronomy (NCB; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
1979), sp. pp. 103-108.
6. H.J. Preuss, Deuteronomium (Ertrage der Forschung, 164;
Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1982), sp. pp. 26-44
avec une bibliographic exhaustive pour l'6poque, bien classic, et des
r6sum£s clairs.
7. G. von Rad, Das Gottesvolk im Deuteronomium (Stuttgart: Kohl-
hammer, 1929); idem, Das formgeschichtliche Problem des Hexateuch
(repris dans Gesammelte Studien [Miinchen: Kaiser, 1958], I, pp. 9-86);
idem, Studies in Deuteronomy (SET, 9; London: SCM Press, 1953); idem,
Der heilige Krieg im alten Israel (Gb'ttingen, 1958); 'Deuteronomy*, IDB, I,
pp. 831-38; idem, Das funfte Buck Moses: Deuteronomium (ATD, 5;
Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1964). Dans sa dissertation
dactylographies (aux pp. 43-77), L. Hoppe (The Origins of Deuteronomy
[diss. Northwestern University, Evanston, IL, 1978]) a expose" avec
clarte les positions de von Rad dans ses publications successives. II a
resume ses propres conclusions dans son article, The Levitical Origins of
Deuteronomy Reconsidered', BR 28 (1983), pp. 27-36.
probablement 27,14). Mais von Rad a 116 ces considerations a
une predication levitique, a une celebration cultuelle de
renouvellement de 1'alliance, a un renouveau d'esprit guer-
rier, et a 1'existence d'une amphictyonie premonarchique.8
L. J. Hoppe, apres un expose soigneux9 a critique cette position
en observant que dans la plupart des cas les Levites ne sont
pas les beneficiaires mais les victimes de la centralisation du
culte; elle en faisait des personnes 'miserables' a 1'instar de la
veuve et de 1'orphelin.
Le milieu prophetique a etc propose par Wellhausen, K.
Budde, A Alt, S.R. Driver, H.E. Ryle, R.H. Kennett, C.F. Burney,
G. Dahl, K.J. Zobel, E.W. Nicholson,10 sur certains points de
vue par W.F. Albright. Cette origine explique le souci de la
purification du culte et surtout les connexions maintes fois
signalees entre Dtn et Osee. L.J. Hoppe a critique" cette
position en observant que les prophetes ne sont pas
specialement bien vus de Dtn (13,2-6; 18,9-22).n
C'est au milieu de la cour et de ses 'sages' que se sont
attaches M. Weinfeld,12 N. Lohfink13 et W. McKane14 avec
8. L'hypothese amphictyonique est maintenant abandonee (voir les

critiques de G.W. Anderson, 'Israel: Amphictyony, 'am, qdhdl, 'edah', dans
Translating and Understanding the Old Testament: Essays in Honour of
Herbert Gordon May (6d. H.T. Thomas et W.L. Reed; Nashville: Abingdon
Press, 1970), et de R. de Vaux, Histoire ancienne d'Israel (Paris: Gabalda,
1973), II, pp. 19-36. La structure amphictyonique n'est bien attested
qu'avec le fonctionnement des 12 prefectures de Salomon (1 R 4,8-13
avec retouches Dtr). Auparavant les tribus, encore autonomes,
s'unissent en 'am ou en qehal YffWH. Le livre des Juges s'efforcera de
regrouper les victoires tribales ou conf£der£es dans la cadre amphictyo-
nique, comme 1'avaient fait J et P par defiance de la monarchic sacrale.
9. Hoppe, Origins of Deuteronomy, pp. 155-211.
10. K. Zobel, Prophetie und Deuteronomium (BZAW, 199; Berlin: de
Gruyter, 1992); E.W. Nicholson, Deuteronomy and Tradition (Oxford:
Blackwell, 1967), pp. 65-79. Voir aussi le dialogue Stuehlmuller-Viviano
sur 'prophetic et mystique' ou est soulign£ le 'complex subject of prophetic
origins' (BR 36 [1991], p. 63).
11. Hoppe, Origins of Deuteronomy, pp. 118-54.
12. M. Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1972); idem, The Origin of Humanism in Deuteronomy',
JBL 80 (1961), pp. 241-47; idem, The Dependence of Deuteronomy upon
Wisdom Literature', in Yehezkel Kaufmann Jubilee Volume (ed. M. Haran;
abondance de preuves dans le fonctionnement des cours
royales a 1'epoque du Deuteronome. On signale en particulier
que, en Jer 18,18, les 'sages' (hakamtm) sont une classe
professionnelle depositaire d'une parole faisant autorit6, le
'conseil', a egalite avec l"oracle' (torah) du pr§tre, et la 'parole'
du prophete. L'insertion de la Loi dans un discours par-
enetique releve non de la predication levitique, mais des
'enseignements' de sagesse donnes dans les ecoles aux
apprentis scribes. Ce sont eux qui, redacteurs professionnels
des traites d'alliance, ont donne au Deuteronome sa structure.
La sagesse religieuse envers 'le dieu', et *humaniste' envers le
prochain (surtout le pauvre) de la sagesse d'Amenemope
(18,26...) se retrouve dans le Deuteronome, et cette Sagesse a
ete utilisee par le livre des Proverbes (22,17-24,11). L.J.
Hoppe rejoint ici R.N. Whybray dans sa critique de 1'existence
d'une 'classe professionnelle' de sages dans le Deuteronome.
Les 'chefs' de Dt 1 sont des chefs de tribus et non des juges
sages (sofetim/hakamim). Huit fois seulement sont men-
tionnes des gens hakamim. Redacteurs du Deuteronome,
pourquoi auraient-ils ainsi 'camoufle'16 leur presence?
L.J. Hoppe preTere chercher 1'origine du mouvement
deuteronomique dans le milieu des 'anciens' (zeqenim)
d'Israel.16 Mentionnes cinq fois dans le code comme autorit^s
Jerusalem, 1960), pp. 89-105; idem, Traces of Assyrian Formulae in

Deuteronomy1, Bib 46 (1965), pp. 417-27; idem, The Emergence of the
Deuteronomic Movement', dans N. Lohfink (6d.), Das Deuteronomium:
Entstehung, Gestalt und BotschaftI'Deuteronomy: Origin, Form and
Message (BETL, 48; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1985), pp. 76-98.
Voir aussi W.L. Humphreys, The Motif of the Wise Courtier in the Old
Testament (diss. Union Theological Seminary, New York, 1970).
13. N. Lohfink, 'Die Wandlung des Bundesbegriffes im Buche Deutero-
nomium', dans Festgabe Rahner (Freiburg, 1964), pp. 423-44 (voir aussi
H. Gazelles, 'Autour de l"Exode', dans Les structures successives de I'aUiance
dans l'A.T. [Paris, 1987], pp. 143-56); idem, 'Die Bundesurkunde des
Konigs Josias', Bib 44 (1963), pp. 261-88, 461-98.
14. W. McKane, Prophets and Wise Men (Naperville, IL: Allenson,
1965).
15. Hoppe, Origins of Deuteronomy, p. 256.
16. Hoppe, Origins of Deuteronomy, pp. 257-356; cf. J. van der Ploeg,
'Les anciens d'Israel', dans Lex Tua Veritas: Festschrift fur H. Junker (eel.
locales (19,12; 21,2.19; 22,15; 25,9), ils auraient une position
superieure dans le cadre du code (5,23; 27,1; 31,9) et dans
1'Histoire deuteronomique, postexilique. Heritiers d'anciennes
traditions, meme prebibliques, ce sont les 'Anciens' qui aur-
aient redige le Deuteronome apres 1'exil en vue de garder les
anciennes traditions lors de la disparition des institutions
politiques d'Israel.
Mais si, dans le code deuteronomique, ces anciens sont des
autorites locales, n'est-ce pas dans le terroir meme de Juda ou
d'Israel qu'il faut chercher le milieu d'origine du Deute>o-
nome? Ce milieu serait preexilique et non le milieu post-
exilique domine par le clerge aaronide, celui des sSdentaires
preexiliques et non des rapatries postexiliques. Ce milieu, le
'peuple du pays' Cam ha'ares) s'est oppose a la cour, en
particulier lors du meurtre d'Amon pere de Josias. N'est-ce pas
a lui, paysan aise possedant serviteurs et servantes, que
s'adresse en fait le Mo'ise du Deuteronome dans ses rituels
agricoles (ch. 26), ses fetes saisonnieres agraires (ch. 16), et
dans nombre de ses benedictions et maledictions? Le calen-
drier liturgique du code sacerdotal (Lev 23; cf. Nb 28-29) aura
une base toute differente. G.H. Wittenberg17 et Patricia
Dutcher-Walls18 se sont pose la question.
Pour la r£soudre, cette derniere fait une judicieuse remarque:
To choose only one group is to overlook the social reality of
political structures and factional struggles in agrarian
societies in antiquity*.19 Cette interrogation sur les 'structures
politiques' est celle que preconise R.N. Whybray. Tout en
H. Gross et F. Mussner; Trier: Paulinus Verlag, 1961), pp. 175-92; J.L.

McKenzie, The Elders in the Old Testament', Bib 40 (1959), pp. 527-40;
J. Conrad, 'zqn', THAT, p. 647; M. Weinfeld, 'Elders', EncJud, VI, pp. 579-
80.
17. G.H. Wittenberg, 'Job the Farmer: The Judaean 'am ha'arets and
the Wisdom Movement', Old Testament Essays (Pretoria, 1991), pp. 151-
70.
18. P. Dutcher-Walls, 'The Social Location of the Deuteronomists: A
Sociological Study of Factional Politics in Late Preexilic Judah', JSOT 52
(1991), pp. 77-94. Ce probleme sociologique s'etend d'ailleurs a la Phe"nicie
(Y.B. Tsirkin, Vestnik [1991,4], pp. 3-13).
19. Dutcher-Walls, 'Social Location of the Deuteronomists', p. 93.
contestant 1'existence d'ecoles de scribes en Israel, il 6crit: 'in
Israel as elsewhere in the ancient Near East the courts were
the intellectual centers of the two kingdoms', et ailleurs il
mentionne...'the deuteronomistic movement, in which it is
probable that royal scribes played a part'.20 Tout en mettant
1'accent sur le 'social world of the wisdom writers'21 de 1'epoque
postexilique a laquelle nous devons les livres dits de Sagesse,
il n'exclut pas une sagesse de haute qualite litteraire chez les
scribes royaux professionnels preexiliques. II attend des etudes
plus poussees. Les auteurs que nous venons de resumer trop
brievement ont su mettre en relief des donnees que Ton ne
peut contester. II y a la six milieux (levites, prophetes, sages
de cour, sages religieux postexiliques, anciens, paysans aises)
qui ont eu leur impact sur la redaction du Deuteronome et le
mouvement qui 1'a produit; il ne faut pas non plus oublier les
juges, les Sofetim associes aux hakamim par Weinfeld. Us sont
mis en tete des institutions en 16,18-20 et 17,8-13, avant rois,
pretres-Levites et prophetes. Un Deuteronomiste a place leur
installation par Moi'se comme prologue a toute 1'Histoire
deuteronomique (1.9-18).
La question du milieu depend done d'une question de
politique, ou plus exactement de sociologie politique. Quelle est
1'importance relative des differents milieux en fonction desquels
sont rediges le Deuteronome et la litterature deuteronomique?
Dans la societe Israelite ces milieux ne sont pas independants
les uns des autres; ils interferent les uns avec les autres, mais
pas de la meme maniere a toutes les epoques.22
Qui dit politique dit gouvernement. Quelle a 6te 1'influence
des differents milieux sociologiques dans 1'organisation de la
societe Israelite, tant a 1'interieur (oppositions internes) qu'a
1'exterieur (pressions exercees par les Etats et Empires voisins)?
De 1'histoire tourmentee de 1'Israel biblique, il est resulte une
evolution dans ses institutions et dans 1'influence des milieux
sociologiques dont elles doivent satisfaire les responsabilites et
20. Whybray, The Sages in the Israelite Royal Court', pp. 137,139.
21. R.N. Whybray, dans R.E. Clements (ed.), The World of Ancient
Israel: Sociological, Anthropological and Political Perspectives
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), pp. 227-50.
22. C'est un des themes de I'Intellectual Tradition.
les besoins. Cela peut etre fait au nom d'une ideologic ou
d'une theologie, mais celle-ci n'agit sur les institutions et l
lois qu'en fonction des realites sociales v£cues.
La eld de voute des institutions gouvernementales dans
1'ancien Orient est la royaute. Fondle a 1'instar des pays
Strangers (1 S 8,5.20), la monarchic Israelite fut sacrale.23 Au
nom du Dieu national YHWH, le roi regit le culte, nomme les
prdtres, benit le peuple, lui commande, et intercede pour lui
pres de Dieu. Solidaire de son peuple c'est lui, le chef, qui
exerce la fonction de salut (y£'X Mais les prophetes du Seme s.
BC ont une autre conception de la fonction de salut, surtout
Osee (13,10-11). L'histoire de salut, dite elohiste, est centred,
non plus sur 1'election familiale et dynastique, mais sur le
prophetisme (Gn 20,7; Nb 11,26-30; 12,6-8; cf. 1 S 10,9-12).
Elle ne tient plus compte de la royaute (comparer Nb 23,7-10,
18-24 E, a 24,7.17 J): seul YHWH est roi (Nb 23,21; Mi 4,6-9;
Is 6). Avec Ezechiel et les ecrits postexiliques, le 'roi' fait place
au 'prince' (qui peut etre un Stranger), soigneusement
distingue du 'prStre', meme le David d'Ez 34,24 et 37,25,
m§me Sheshbasar (Esd 1,8) et Zorobabel n'est qu'un peha'.
Les Psaumes 'royaux' ne sont repris que comme Psaumes
*Messianiques'. Les Chroniques ne s'interessent a la royaute
qu'en fonction du Temple, des ses restaurations, de 1'etablisse-
ment de juges (2 Chr 19,4-19), et du respect qu'elle doit au
'pretres' (2 Chr 24,22; 26,20). Ou se place la loi royale du Dtn
dans ces contextes historiques?
Pour gouverner en mishpat et sedaqah, les rois sont assisted
de fonctionnaires (2 S 8,15-18). Us donnent des 'conseils' au
roi selon Jer 18,18 qui les appelle hakamim.Ces conseillers
politiques (Is 30,1-2; 31,1-2) sont appeles hakamim par Isai'e
(29,14; cf. 5,21), Jeremie (9,11; cf. 8,9) et Ezechiel (28,3-4).
Ces prophetes leur sont hostiles, de m§me que les textes pr6-
prophetiques etaient tres defiants de cette okmah politique;24
23. H. Gazelles, Le Messie de la Bible: Christologie de I'Ancien

Testament (Paris: Descl£e, 1978), pp. 60-76, avec bibliographic. Heritage
deshakamtm politiques, Pr 16,10.12-15, Lam 4,20 en tgmoignent encore.
24. H. Gazelles, 'A propos d'une phrase de H.H. Rowley*, dans Wisdom
in Israel and in the Ancient Near East (Festschrift Rowley; 6d. M. Noth et
D. Winton Thomas; VTSup, 3; Leiden: Brill, 1955), pp. 26-32: Salomon
GAZELLES Les Milieux du Deuttronome 295
en effet Pheniciens, Arameens, et Judeens du temps de
Salomon la reconnaissaient en leurs souverains; n'etait-elle pas
1'apanage du dieu supreme El qui pouvait la faire partager
par d'autres dieux et dont les 'avis' (thm) 6taient censes
dormer la vie? Cette hokmah etait celle par laquelle la Pharaon
voulait detruire Israel (Ex 1,10) et qui compromit la vieillesse
de David (2 S 13,3; 14,2.20; 16,23; 20,16). Les textes 'prophe-
tiques' sont au contraire favorables a la hokmah (Os 13,13),
surtout pour Joseph (Gn 41,33.39). Dans 1'Histoire deute>ono-
mique ni les bons rois ni les bons conseillers ne sont dits
hakamim. Apres 1'exil ce n'est plus une sagesse politique de
gouvernement, mais une sagesse morale personnelle, Tarbre
de vie' de Pr 3,18-20, dont Dieu seul connait les secrets (Job
11,6). Ou situer la sagesse du Dtn? Est-elle celle de la
politique, celle de la morale de la 'crainte de Dieu', ou encore
la sagesse populaire du terroir, celle des villages loin de la
cour?
Pr£cisement dans le Dtn, 1'autorite dans les bourgades et
villages est aux mains des Anciens (ziqney hair, 19,12; 21,3.4.
6.19; 22,15.17.18; 25,8). Mais 1'institution des zeqenim a un
contenu vague et changeant; souvent le terme signifie simple-
ment la Vieillesse' par opposition a la 'jeunesse' (1 R 12,6-8;
Esd 3,12; Zach 8,4). A Mari les anciens (Sibutu) sont les chefs
de tribus Benjaminites non sedentarisees.25 II en est de m§me
dans les textes de 1'Exode qui appartiennent vraisemblable-
ment tous a la strate Elohiste, qu'ils s'agisse des 70 anciens
etroitement associes a Moise ou des anciens en general.26
Exiles en Babylonie, les Anciens de Juda se groupent aupres
d'Ezechiel (8,1; 14,1; 20,1); en Ez 7,26 ils prennent la place
des hakamim de Jer 18,18. Au retour de 1'exil, il y a des
'Anciens de ville' qui dependent des sartm. Mais N6h6mie les
ignore. Ce n'est plus une institution vivante; elle n'est cite"e
(1 R 3,28; 5,10), Azitawadda, leroi ph&iitien (KAI, 26 A113), et Panammu

aram&m (KAI, 215,11). EUe est Equivoque en 1R 2,9; 3,12.
25. Hoppe, Origins of Deuteronomy, p. 260 n. 3; H. Klengel, 'Zu den
Sibutum in altbabylonischen Zeit', Or 29 (1960), pp. 357-75. Pour Israel
voir supra n. 16.
26. H. Gazelles, Autour de 1'Exode (Etudes) (Paris: Gabalda, 1987),
pp. 250-51.
qu'a titre d'archaisme. A toutes les epoques les Anciens sont
li£s aux tribus ou aux lieux; ce n'est done pas une institution
homogene en Israel. Le Dtn ne connait des 'Anciens d'lsrael'
qu'en 31,9 pour le rassemblement de toutes les tribus (cf. 31,28).
Ce n'est pas la une institution politique de gouvernement.
Reste que, lorsque le Dtn s'adresse a Israel, c'est le propri6taire
ais6 qu'il a en vue, avec serviteurs et servantes (12,18); il doit
avoir le souci du pauvre et la charge du Invite (12,19;
14,27.29...).
Qu'en est-il du milieu levitiquel Ici encore le terme recouvre
des acceptions diverses.27 En Gn 34 et Ex 32,27, c'est une
tribu combattante, quoique divisSe (Ex 32,28) et dispersed
(Gn 49,5-7). Selon Jd 17-18 (mais pas 19-21) et 1 R 12,31 un
LeVite peut aller de tribu en tribu, 4tant specialement Ii6 aux
sanctuaires locaux, meme si Jeroboam affecte a ce culte des
non-leVites. Us ont en particulier la charge du sacerdoce de
Dan (Jd 18,31), un des deux sanctuaires royaux du Nord
(1 R 12,29). II est 6galement possible que les sacerdoces de
Bethel28 et de Silo29 aient £te levitiques. En Dt 33,8-11, texte
predtn avec complement Dtr (9b-10a) qui connait la tradition
combattante d'Ex 32, ils ont des adversaires, mais sont
charges du culte (Urim et Tummim, holocauste, encens).
Dans le Dtn, ils restent charges du culte et sont pr§tres/
leVites (18,1-8). Mais ils sont depossed£s de leurs revenus au
sanctuaire local et doivent etre aides par le proprietaire
terrien. C'est a la litterature Dtr qu'il convient d'attribuer leur
27. A. Cody, A History of Old Testament Priesthood (AnBib, 35; Rome:

Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1969), avec ses importantes remarques sur
le sacerdoce des Elides & Silo et sur les noms £gyptiens de ce clergg
(pp. 69-70). Sur les LeVites de Dt 33,8-11, voir pp. 115-16.
28. Ce serait par E16azar, curieusement enterr6 dans la Ville de son fils
Pinhas' £ Gibea en Ephraim. Ex 18,4 est le seul texte qui mentionne un
second fils de Moi'se du nom d'Eliezer (mgmes consonnes qu'Eleazar). Ce
serait dans ce texte eUohiste le sacerdoce de Bethel, sanctuaire royal,
parallele & celui de Gershom & Dan.
29. Voir Cody, Priesthood, p. 108. Selon 1 S 2,35-36, ce sacerdoce
(Abiathar) a ete supplante par un autre (Sadoc) de meme que les LeVites
de 2 R 23,9 n'avaient pas ^galit^ de droits avec les pr§tres du sanctuaire
central, et que Jer&nie 'des pr§tres d'Anatot' se heurta aux prgtres de
Jerusalem (J6r 19-20; 26,8,11; 28,16-17).
relation spSciale a 1'Arche d'Alliance et a la lecture de la
Torah, ainsi que le refus de leur attribuer part e"gale aux
pretres de Jerusalem (2 R 23,9). Ezechiel parle encore de
pretres-Le"vites (43,19; 44,15) mais il les identine aux
Sadocites. Partout ailleurs (44,10; 45,5; 48,11-13.22), il
distingue pretres et Levites et donne a ceux-ci un statut
inferieur, non sacerdotal, car 'ils ont 6te" loin de moi'; dans la
perspective de ce prdtre de Jerusalem, ces Le"vites e"taient loin'
de Jerusalem le sanctuaire ou residait la gloire de Dieu. Ce
statut le"vitique d'Ezechiel va §tre applique" par le Code
sacerdotal et par la litterature postexilique, quitte a ce que
Malachie accuse les pretres de Jerusalem d'avoir 'viole'
1'alliance de Le"vi (2,8) qui devait etre perpetuelle grace a
Pinehas (Nb 25,13; cf. Je 33,22 TM). En tout cas, pas plus que
les Anciens des villes et les proprietaires terriens, les Levites
locaux du Dtn ne peuvent avoir etc les promoteurs de la
centralisation du culte a Jerusalem, tout en avant etc
profondement concernes par elle.
Et les Prophetes ? Ce milieu, lui aussi, parait tres complexe
dans le Bible et 1'Ancien Orient (Mari, Byblos, Hazrak...). II y
a les prophetes independants comme Eldad et Medad de Nb
11,27, les bandes de 'fils de prophetes' autour de Samuel et
d'Elise"e. Mais il y a aussi des prophetes royaux qui inter-
viennent a la cour en fonction des problemes politiques. Nous
avons vu le nombre et 1'importance des specialistes qui voient
dans le milieu prophetique 1'origine du Dtn. Ils ont ete
contestes par L.J. Hoppe pour lequel le Dtn souligne surtout
les defaillances des prophetes (13,2-6; 18,9-20). II est certain
que la formule globale 'mes serviteurs les prophetes' est Dtr et
non Dtn30 (2 R 9,7; 17,13; Jer 29,19; Am 3,7...). Le Dtn
distingue entre les prophetes 'comme Moise' (18,15) et les
autres. II est embarrasse pour donner un critere anterieur a la
realisation de la prediction (18,21s). C'est au Levite deposi-
taire de la Torah et non au prophete qu'est subordonne le roi.
On voit ainsi que ces milieux ont ete modifies au cours de
30. M§me en Am 3,7. Voir cependant les reserves de S. Paul, Amos: A

Commentary on the Book of Amos (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1991),
p. 112, a 1'egard de 1'opinion commune.
1'histoire, et que la terminologie est ambigiie. Peut-on preciser
quelle epoque et quel milieu le code deuteronomique concerne?
Pour determiner le milieu d'origine du Dtn et de la litterature

Dtn il faut trouver une Epoque ou:
1°. L'institution royale nationale est affaiblie (un 'frere')
mais existe encore, quoique non sacrale selon le Deute'ronome,
meme si, en fait, elle 1'etait encore a Jerusalem.
2°. Elle est assisted de Juges (qui meme la precedent), et
d'institutions de gouvernement qui sont hakamtm, non pas au
sens moral et religieux, mais au sens politique: aptes a donner
des solutions prudentes.
3°. Ces institutions gouvernent des proprietaires terriens
aises, qui disposent de produits agraires, et des Anciens de
bourgades locales; ils peuvent avoir une sagesse populaire
rurale,31 mais non pas de cette sagesse intellectuelle de cour
acquise tres probablement dans des ecoles preparant a leurs
taches les fonctionnaires royaux.32
4°. Au culte central du seul sanctuaire ou *YHWH fait
demeurer (mettre) son Norn', sont associes des Levites qui
peuvent rester dans leurs bourgades, mais sont alors sans
ressources, comme la veuve, 1'orphelin, 1'etranger. Leur statut
n'est ni celui des LeVites d'avant la centralisation du culte, ni
31. S. Terrien, 'Amos and Wisdom', dans B.W. Anderson et W. Harrelson

(e"ds.), Israel's Prophetic Heritage: Essays in Honour of James Muilenburg
(London: SCM Press, 1962), pp. 108-15, tout en admettant un 'common
sense' dans la sagesse d'Amos, montre a quel point elle reflete la sagesse
orientale.
32. A. Lemaire, Les Scales et la formation de la Bible dans I'ancien
Israel (OBO, 39; Fribourg [Suisse]: Editions Universitaires, 1981). Les
abgce*daires t&noignent d'exercices d'6cole. Or, pour former des fonction-
naires d'Etat, il fallait non seulement apprendre a 6crire et compter (selon
la graphic ggyptienne, voir les ostraca de Cades Barnea et d'Arad), mais
aussi a recliger un jugement, faire un rapport et juger gquitablement pour
ne pas @tre Iapid6 comme un Adoram. Cela ne releve pas d'une Education
paternelle. Un scribe £tait n£cessaire pour inscrire les noms des t£moins
(J6r 32,25; c'est le mSme ductus pour tous les noms, aussi bien dans la
liste de Sichem (ZDPV 59 [1926], pi. 45) que dans un acte d'Elephantine
(Cowley, §18; E. Sachau, Aramaische Papyrus [Leipzig: J.C. Hinrichs,
1911], pi. 33).
celui des Levites postexiliques sans droits sacerdotaux, meme
si le Chroniste cherchera a leur en rendre quelques uns
(2 Chr 29,5; 30,22; 31,14; 35,11.14).
5°. Les prophetes ne sont pas encore les prophetes 'canon-
iques' que reconnaitront le Dtr et les prophetes postexiliques
comme Zach 1,8. Quand on parle de 1'influence du milieu pro-
phetique sur le Dtn, sa theodicee et sa morale, on pense sur-
tout aux quatre prophetes du Seme s. BC: Amos, Osee, Michee
et Isai'e. Or aucun des quatre ne se presente comme nabV.
Amos le denie (7,14), et les trois autres prennent leur distance
vis a vis des nebttm (Os 4,5; Mi 3,5.11; Is 28,7). Le n&bt' est
encore a cette epoque soit celui qui, a la cour, designe 1'elu de
YHWH ou annonce la victoire, soit Tun des beney nebitm
extatiques proches d'Elisee. Les suscriptions tardives d'Amos
(1,1), de Michee (1,1), et d'Isai'e (1,1; 2,1) les considerent plu-
tot comme des visionnaires, meme quand elles leur attribuent
le dabar, et nous savons par 1 S 9,9 que le nabi' fut d'abord
considere comme un 'voyant'. Ces quatre 'prophetes' ne con-
stituent pas un milieu, mais ce sont des figures lucides dont
les disciples rassembleront les oracles apres avoir reconnu leur
ve'racite'. Contestes de leur vivant, ils temoignent (comme le
Dtn) de la division entre les prophetes, surtout de cour, et cela
depuis Michee ben Yimla (1 R 22) jusqu'a Jeremie (ch. 28).
Dans les premiers temps de leur activite, ces quatre

'prophetes' sont surtout preoccupes des problemes du royaume
du Nord, celui qu'on appelle Israel, distingue de Juda. Ose"e
est du Nord, Amos quitte Jerusalem pour vaticiner a Bethel,
Michee s'en prend d'abord a Samarie (l,5aba'.6). C'est le cas
aussi d'Isai'e dans son grand poeme a refrain (9,7-10) comme
en 28,1-4; a mon avis, 1'endurcissement d'Israel dans la vision
inaugurate au debut de la guerre syro-ephra'imite ne
s'explique bien qu'en fonction du refus du Nord d'accepter le
successeur de David a la mort d'Ozias.33
33. J'ai £tudi£ cette difficile question £ propos du nom de Shear-Yashub

(Eighth World Congress of Jewish Studies [1981] [6d. J. Kaplan;
Jerusalem: World Union of Jewish Studies, 1985], pp. 47-50), des
premiers destinataires d'Isaie 2,2-5 (VT 30 [1980], pp. 409-20), des
aspects royaux de la vision d'Isaie (SEA 39 [1974], pp. 38-58). En Is 5,3
C'est toutefois a Jerusalem que se forment leurs livres et
que s'acheve leur activite (Os 1,7; 3,5; Am 1,2; 2,4-6; 9,11).
Qu'en est-il du Deuteronome dont on ne peut nier les
connexions avec les traditions du Nord, ce que reconnait m§me
L.J. Hoppe?34 Nicholson a rassemb!6 les arguments et les a
developpSs;35 il termine en se posant la question: 'How did it
[Deuteronomy] find its way to Judah?' C'est en effet de
Jerusalem que part la reforme de Josias36 comme 1'avait
demontre de Wette. Pour la litterature deuteronomique
Jerusalem/Sion est le lieu choisi par YHWH pour centraliser le
culte.
Or certaines des dispositions du Dtn sont apparues comme
peu adaptees a 1'epoque de Josias. Les critiques formulees par
Holscher,37 bien que refutees par Budde et beaucoup d'autres,
ont eu un grand 4cho et conduit des auteurs de poids a faire
du Dtn un programme postexilique. Pour Wiirthwein la
reforme de Josias en 2 R 23 serait une composition artificielle
c'est Jerusalem qui est appelee comme t£moin centre la Vigne* done le
Nord. L'6tude tres soignee de D. Vieweger sur Is (8,23ab'b), 9,1-6 (BZ NF
36 [1991], pp. 77-86, rend vraisemblable 1'attribution de 9,6bb' a un
disciple, mais 1'oracle d'intronisation royale se place mieux lors de
1'eleVation d'Ez£chias a la coregence (dans la troisieme ann£e d'Os6e
d'Israel (circa 728; cf. 2 R 18,1) qu'a une epoque ou Josias 6tait roi depuis
huit ans.
34. Hoppe, Origins of Deuteronomy, p. 257; cf. p. 121. C'est 1'opinion
de Welch, Gressmann, Alt et al. (liste dans Preuss, Deuteronomium,
pp. 30-31), mgme de R. Smend, Die Entstehung des Alien Testaments
(Theologische Wissenschaft, 1; Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1978), pp. 78-81;
et, quoiqu'on en ait dit, de F.R. McCurley, Jr, 'The Home of Deuteronomy
Revisited: A Methodological Analysis of the Northern Theory*, in A Light
unto My Path: Old Testament Studies in Honour of Jacob M. Myers
(Gettysburg Theological Studies, 4; ed. H.N. Bream, R.D. Heim, C.A.
Moore; Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1974), pp. 295-318 (311).
Cf. H. Gazelles, 'Sur 1'origine du mouvement deuteronomique', dans
Festschrift A. Malamat (sous presse).
35. Nicholson, Deuteronomy and Tradition, ch. 4, pp. 58-82.
36. Sans admettre avec Bachli et Lindblom que le Dt soit produit des
LeVites du Sud.
37. G. Holscher, 'Komposition und Ursprung des Deuteronomium',
ZAW 40 (1922), pp. 161-255, qui a impressionne d'6minents auteurs
comme S. Mowinckel, O. Kaiser, R. Smend, H.J. Preuss, E. Wurthwein.
visant a donner de 1'importance au Dtn.38
La difficulte, c'est qu'on ne voit pas quel serait a cette
epoque postexilique le milieu qui aurait produit ce texte et sa
reforme. II n'y a plus ni roi ni cour. Le roi est un Stranger, non
un 'frere'; c'est d'un nast', meme David, qu'on attend une
restauration. II n'est pas fait mention d'Anciens dans les listes
de rapatries installes dans les villages. Le paysan n'est plus le
riche proprietaire terrien, mais un fellah endette opprim6 par
des nobles (hortm) et des officiers (seganim, sarim, Esd 9.2) en
relations avec les autoritSs etrangeres (N£ 7,5) et habitant
Jerusalem (Ne 11,1). Les Levites, qu'Esdras cut du mal a
recruter (Esd 8,15), ont le statut diminue d'Ez6chiel et de P;
ils n'ont place dans le culte que comme chantres ou portiers.
Les Psaumes qui doivent beaucoup au milieu levitique ne
connaissent le roi que comme futur Messie. L'ecole d'Isaie (40-
66) ne s'appuie pas sur les institutions deuteronomiques,
meme quand il s'agit de pratiques idolatres (65,3-8; 66,3).
Jeremie est exclu de 1'Histoire deuteronomique, alors meme
qu'un editeur Dtr a utilise son livre. Le prophetisme post-
exilique connait le Dtn, mais il ne le promeut pas. Quant aux
Ecoles de sagesse, elles ont une conception d'une hokmah
fondee sur la 'crainte de Dieu' et non sur une sagesse
politique humaniste.
On pourrait penser que le 'peuple du pays' (Esd 4,4) auquel
se sont heurtes les rapatries ait pu etre le porteur du
mouvement Dtr. C'est en fonction du culte a Sion que
viennent les gens de Samarie en Jer 41,5, qu'ont etc chantees
les Lamentations, et que ces 'gens du pays' proposent de
participer a la reconstruction du Temple. Mais ils dependent
des autorites perses de Samarie et ne peuvent songer a une loi
royale en faveur d'un roi 'frere'. II y a certainement une
edition postexilique du Dtn et de 1'Histoire deuteronomique.
Mais ces Dtr ne font nullement oeuvre creatrice. Ils sont des
editeurs de traditions du passe pour assurer 1'unite d'Israel.
38. E. Wurthwein, 'Das josianische Reform und das Deuteronomium',

ZTK 73 (1976), pp. 395-423 et son commentaire de 1'ATD (1984), p. 455.
Mais voir les positions et arguments de Eichrodt, Gressmann,
H. Schmidt, J.A. Bewer, J.B. Paton, W. Baumgartner, et, avec nuances,
de G. Nebeling, G. Seitz et M. Rose.
On ne voit pas qu'ils songent a promouvoir une ideologic
religieuse qui s'opposerait a celle des rapatries qui sont
soutenus politiquement par les autorites perses.
P. Dutcher-Walls a judicieusement observe" qu'a l'e"poque
qu'elle etudie, celle du Dtr preexilique,39 les differents milieux
sont meles dans les differentes factions qui s'opposent politi-
quement. Les prises de position de ces factions dependent non
d'une ideologic, mais de la situation internationale.40 N*en ser-
ait-il pas de meme a l'£poque du Dtn, prealable a celle du Dtr?
La seule vraie specificite de la litte>ature Dtn/Dtr est celle de
1'existance de 'scribes' dans le gouvernement. A cote des scribes
intellectuels, forme's a lire et & 6crire, et qui parviennent a de
hautes fonctions dans 1'Etat, ces hakamim ministres ou juges,
il y a des sotertm41 qui assistent ces hauts fonctionnaires. Ce
terme juridique, d'origine arameenne, designe ceux qui met-
tent par ecrit les decisions, les listes de recrutement, et les
temoignages dans les contrats. Or ils apparaissent, selon toute
vraisemblance, dans 1'histoire Elohiste;42 ils disparaitront au
profit du sopher, specialiste de la Torah dans les textes post-
exiliques, et n'interviennent plus dans 1'administration civile,
39. Dutcher-Walls, The Social Location of the Deuteronomists', p. 91.

II me parait impossible de ne pas admettre une redaction Dtr preexilique;
cf. N. Lohfink, 'Kerygmata des deuteronomischen Geschichtswerks', dans
Die Botschaft und die Boten: Festschrift fiir Hans Walter Wolff zum 70.
Geburtstag (ed. J. Jeremias et L. Perlitt; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener
Verlag, 1981), pp. 87-100; R.D. Nelson, The Double Redaction of the
Deuteronomistic History (JSOTSup, 18; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1981),
M.A. O'Brien, The Deuteronomic History Hypothesis: A Reassessment
(OBO, 92; Fribourg [Suisse]: Universitatsverlag, 1989). Je reste
impressionn£ par les analyses de H. Weippert en faveur d'une premiere
redaction ant^rieure aux deux autres ('Die deuteronomistischen
Beurteilungen der Konige von Israel und Juda und das Problem der
Redaktion der KOnigsbiicher', Bib 53 [1972], pp. 301-39).
40. Dutcher-Walls, The Social Location of the Deuteronomists', p. 84.
41. J. van der Ploeg, 'Les §6terim d'IsraeT, OTS 10 (1954), pp. 185-96;
H. Gazelles, 'Institutions et tenninologie en Deute'ronome i 6-17', in
Volume du Congres, Geneve 1965 (ed. P.A.H. de Boer; VTSup, 15; Leiden,
1966), pp. 97-112 (104-107).
42. II faut distinguer dans ce texte les Sotertm d'Israel frappe's avec les
Israelites (E, Ex 5,14) et les Sdtertm de Pharaon, assistant les
fonctionnaires nogestm (5,6), scribes qui enregistrent les normes.
sauf commission donnee par le roi perse.
Nous sommes ainsi renvoyes a une £poque ou Israel a
encore un gouvernement avec des administrateurs hakamim.
Nous avons ici un lien de plus entre le Deuteronome et 1'Israel
du Nord. Ce n'est pas le lieu de reetudier les contacts entre le
Dtn et Osee. II est utile toutefois de souligner que les quatre
'prophetes' du Seme s. ont ete provoques dans leur activity par
les problemes politiques de 1'Israel du Nord: problemes de
1'administration royale et de ses abus, problemes de politique
Internationale (Am 1-2; 5,27; Os 7,11; 9,3; Mi 1; 5,4-14; Is 7).
Puisque le Dtn est avant tout un code, il conviendrait
davantage de mettre en relief les rapports de ce Dtn avec les
textes normatifs de la strate E du Pentateuque: le Decalogue
de 1'Horeb, les maledictions de Sichem,43 le code d'Ex 20,22-
23,19, deduction faite des ajouts Dtr.44 Retenons qu'Osê
(8,12) connait les collections d'oracles45 en meme temps qu'il
est tres preoccupe par les deviations de ceux qu'il appelle
'pretres' et que le Dtn appellera 'levites'. II y a done une
activite de scribes aux sanctuaires locaux; on doit done ad-
mettre un lien entre milieu levitique et milieu scribal. De plus,
1'Elohiste considere Josue non comme un guerrier, mais
comme un serviteur de Mo'ise (Ex 24,11; Nb 11,28), un gardien
de la Tente (Ex 33,lib). Enfin 1'Elohiste considere Abraham
43. Ce texte a 6t£ repris par le Dtr qui refuse un autel sur le mont Ebal
(cp. 27,5-6 et 2-3). De meme 27,1, qui associe a Moi'se les Anciens,
appartient & ce texte pr6dt (cf. Nb 11).
44. H. Gazelles, 'Histoire et institutions dans la place et la composition
d'Ex 20,22-23,19', dans Prophetic und geschichtliche Wirklichkeit im alien
Israel: Festschrift fur Siegfried Herrmann (6d. R. Liwak et S. Wagner;
Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1991), pp. 52-64.
45. Le TM parle de mise par 6crit de rubby (Q) ou rubbw (K) (cf. LXX
nomima kai) de 'ma torah'. Toutes les versions ont lu le pluriel 'mes t6r6t'
plus rare, done lectio dijficilior. En tout cas, chez Ose"e (4,6), une torah est
a la charge du pr&tre, done d'un sanctuaire local. Voir les commentaires:
W.R. Harper, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Amos and Hosea
(ICC, 24; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1905), p. 320; H.W. Wolff,
Dodekapropheton. II. Joel und Amos (BKAT, 14/2; Neukirchen-Vluyn:
Neukirchener Verlag, 1969), pp. 170, 185; W. Rudolph, Joel—Amos—
Obadja—Jona (KAT 13/2; Gutersloh: Mohn, 1971), p. 167; J.L. Mays,
Amos: A Commentary (OTL; London: SCM Press, 1969), ad lac.
(Gn 20,7) et Moi'se (Nb 12,7) comme nebttm, pensant plus
aux prophetes itinerants tel un Elisee, qu'aux prophetes de
cour. Mais Moi'se est plus qu'un prophete car il 'est fiddle dans
toute ma maison', tente ou sanctuaire.
II y a done des relations, non entre milieux, mais entre
personnalites appartenant aux differents milieux d'Israel,
1'influence la plus grande etant celle de Invites. Toutefois, ce
ou ces Levites, responsables de ITiistoire de salut Elohiste (sur
la base d'une berit et de son formulaire), ne paraissent pas
appartenir a un 'sanctuaire royal' comme Bethel (Am 7,13); ils
partagent la grande defiance d'Osee vis a vis de la royaute", de
son clerge", de ses prophetes (sauf Moi'se) et de ses chefs (s&rtm).
Or le Dtn va reprendre les traditions normatives ou
historiques de 1'Elohiste, non seulement du Code dit de
1'Alliance,46 mais de 1'Horeb (Decalogue) et du desert (Ex 18).
II les reprend, mais dans de nouvelles perspectives. II a une
attention toute particuliere pour les scribes auxquels on
emprunte leur mode d'enseignement. En Ex 18 les juges
associes a Moi'se sont des militaires; ils sont maintenant des
hakamim (Dt 1,15; 16,19). L'institution royale n'est pas
supprime'e mais maintenue sous condition. Elle est pr4cedee de
1'institution de juges, locaux ou centraux, et contr61e"e par des
pretres/levites et des prophetes comme Moi'se. L'innovation
principale est la centralisation du culte en 'un seul lieu choisi
par YHWH dans Tune de tes tribus' (12,14), en contradiction
avec le code Elohiste (Ex 22,24).
Ces transformations des institutions sont-elles le fruit d'une
'thSologie' qui veut purifier le culte en fonction d'idees sur
Dieu? Ou est-ce 1'echo de la volonte de milieux Elohistes qui
veulent rester fideles a YHWH Dieu national trdnant encore
dans la seule Jerusalem, sans se soumettre politiquement aux
dieux de l'6tranger?47 Chez 1'Elohiste, Dieu est deja au ciel
46. Cf. G.E. Wright, 'Deuteronomy', IB, II, pp. 323-25; H. Gazelles,
Etudes sur le Code de VAlliance (Paris: Letouzey et An6, 1936), pp. 104-
106; idem, 'Sur 1'origine du mouvement deut^ronomique', dans Festschrift
A. Malamat (cf. n. 34 supra). Excellent tableau des paralleles dans Preuss,
Deuteronomium,pp. 104-106.
47. Ce sont des 'elohey ndkekar dans la litterature elohiste (Gn 35,2.4;
Jos 24,23; Jud 10,16; 1 S 7,3), et des 'elohim 'ahertm dans la litterature
GAZELLES Les Milieux du Deuttronome 305
(Gn 21,17; 28,12) et le culte epure: tout autel est 116 a une
manifestation divine (Ex 22,24-25; cf. Dt 27,5-6a, 15-25).
Mais, selon 1'Elohiste, ce sont encore douze tribus qui sont
unies dans 1'alliance de 1'Horeb et de Gilgal (Ex 24). Or, en
722 BC dix ou onze tribus ne sont plus soumises a 1'obedience
(cf. Hoppe) de YHWH, Dieu d'Israel, mais aux 'dieux de
I'Stranger* (E), aux 'autres dieux' (D). Dans le Dtn Israel est
regroupe en un 'peuple' consacre, reuni en un qehal YHWH,
en un seul lieu d'une seule tribu ou regne un roi 'frere' et un
juge supreme. Le plus vraisemblable est d'admettre avec
Clements, Nicholson, Bachli,48 et d'autres, que le Dtn est
redige" par des 'Elohistes' qui ont vecu Tagonie de Samarie
avec Osee. Us proposent un regroupement de 'tout Israel'
autour de YHWH et du Temple construit par le fils de David.
Or la monarchie de Juda etait encore sacrale: ce sont
Ezechias et Josias qui reglent le culte. La loi royale ne pouvait
convenir a cette cour, critiquee par Isaie. Beaucoup d'indices
suggerent qu'Ezechias, soutenu par Michee,49 tenta une
reforme appuyee sur le Dtn. C'est alors que le projet Dtn se
montra inapplicable, tant a cause de la situation internationale
(pression de 1'Assyrie triomphante), que de la repugnance de
la cour et du clerge de Jerusalem vis a vis de ces traditions du
Dtr (5,7; 6,14; 7,4...).
48. O. Bachli me parait avoir bien montr6 (Israel und die Volker: Eine
Studie zum Deuteronomium [Zurich: Zwingli, 1962]) que le Dtn gtait plus
conditionne par Texistence du peuple' menacee (pp. 32-33) et la fonction
du roi 'porteur du pouvoir' (pp. 192-200) que par une thgologie
centralisatrice. Mais je ne crois pas que le roi ait pu etre rinitiateur de la
loi royale, ni d'une thgologie, si dependante de E, et si differente de celles de
J et de P. Les vues de Nicholson (Deuteronomy and Tradition, pp. 91-101)
me paraissent tres fondees, quoique je placerais la premiere redaction de
Dtn entre 722 et 716/715: Ezechias est devenue seul roi et, avec 1'appui de
Michee, tente une reTorme politico/religieuse qui sera vite mise en 6chec.
49. II se pr6sente comme le prophete vaillant (Mi 3,8), entre deux
r6quisitoires contre les 'chefs de Jacob et d'IsraeT (seul le second mentionne
Jerusalem). La reforme est attestee non settlement par 2 R 18,4.21, mais
par J6r 26,18-19. Comme la ratine de 'tq implique toujours un transfert,
un mouvement, il est probable que les 'gens d'Ezechias' de Pr 25,1 sont
des hakdmtm du Nord qui ont apporte avec eux, pres d'Ezechias, des
proverbes du Nord. Enfin la d^couverte par Avigad du 'mur d'Ez6chias'
t^moigne de 1'extension de Jerusalem en un nouveau quartier, le Mishneh.
Nord. On salt qu'il en fut de meme a la mort de Josias. Mais le
Deuteronome avait ete promulgue comme Loi d'Etat, meme a
Samarie, Sichem et Silo (Jer 41,5). Le Dtr le conservera dans
son histoire; les 'gens du pays' (Samaritains) y resteront
attaches et, dans la Torah, il fut incorpore dans le cadre du
code sacerdotal.
Auparavant, le milieu qui, a Jerusalem, tenta d'adapter les
traditions du Nord a la monarchic et aux institutions de Juda,
ne peut etre que le milieu Elohiste etabli dans le Mishneh, un
nouveau quartier de Jerusalem; c'est la qu'on ira consulter la
prophe"tesse Huldah, femme d'un gardien de vetements du
Temple, done un Invite selon Ezechiel. Pour lui, les Levites sont
portiers et 'font le service du Temple' (44,11); ils gardent done
les vStements liturgiques reserves au kohanim (42,12.14). Ce
fils du pretre Buzi connaissait les coutumes du Temple. C'est
ce groupe de refugies du Nord, compose de milieux socio-
logiques differents qui, unis aux Helkias, aux Shaphanides et
a Jeremie, allait se heurter aux pretres, aux prophetes (Jer
26,11.16) et aux hakamim de R.N. Whybray.
RUTH: A HOMILY ON DEUTERONOMY 22-25?
Michael D. Goulder
The legal problems of the book of Ruth should be treated as

Bertrand Russell treated the question of life after death: with
a noble and unyielding despair. For the charming tale repeat-
edly confronts the readers with dissonances. Legal customs
are presupposed by the story that are in contradiction to the
provisions they read in the Law books; and commentators
then undertake the thankless task of reconciliation.1 Such
reconciliations are a mistake.2 They may rest upon
1. So for example H.H. Rowley, The Marriage of Ruth', The Servant of

the Lord and Other Essays on the Old Testament (Oxford: Basil Blackwell,
2nd edn, 1965); D.H. Weiss, The Use ofqnh in Connection with Marriage',
HTR 57 (1964), pp. 244-48; D.R. Ap-Thomas, The Book of Ruth', ExpTim
79 (1967-68), pp. 369-73; T. and D. Thompson, 'Some Legal Problems in
the Book of Ruth', VT 18 (1968), pp. 79-99; D.R.G. Beattie, 'Kethibh and
Qere in Ruth iv 5', VT 21 (1971), pp. 490-94; idem, The Book of Ruth as
Evidence of Israelite Legal Practice', VT 24 (1974), pp. 252-67; E.F.
Campbell, Jr, Ruth (AB; New York: Doubleday, 1975); J.M. Sasson, Ruth:
A New Translation with a Philological Commentary and a Formalist-
Folklorist Interpretation (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press,
1979; repr. The Biblical Seminar; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1989); E.W.
Davies, 'Inheritance Rights and the Hebrew Levirate Marriage', VT 31
(1981), pp. 138-44, 257-68; idem, 'Ruth iv 5 and the Duties of thego'eF,
VT 33 (1983), pp. 231-34; H.-F. Richter, 'Zum Levirat im Buch Rut', ZAW
95 (1983), pp. 123-26.
2. K. Nielsen, in a bold and imaginative article, 'Le choix contre le droit
dans le livre de Ruth' (VT 35 [1985], pp. 201-12), correctly despairs of
legal solutions and suggests that Ruth offers herself to Boaz much as
Tamar did to Judah. She was wearing only her mantle, and she uncovered
herself by his margsl6t. Dr Nielsen does not comment on the last verses of
ch. 3, where Boaz fills Ruth's mantle with six measures of barley and laid
it upon her'—it would appear that on this hypothesis she had a chilly
journey home.
hypothetical earlier, or later, forms of law and custom; or
upon parallels alleged from other countries; or upon an
alleged difference between actual local practice and notional
national law-codes.3 All these attempts to resolve the
'difficulties' are misguided, because, as I hope to show, the
wording of Ruth is in many cases so close to that of the laws it
contravenes, especially Deut. 25.5-10.
Chapter 4 is the most obvious minefield for legal explana-
tions. Num. 27.8-11 provides that on death a man's property
goes to his sons, and if no sons to his daughters, and if no
daughters to his brothers. The widow is by-passed4 (along
with the sons' widows), and Elimelech's land would belong to
his family, not to Naomi. In fact it would already belong to the
near kinsman, and he would not have to buy it from the hand
of anyone. In Deut. 25.5-6 the levirate is laid down as incum-
bent upon a brother living with the family, not upon a next-
of-kin: so the go'el would have no duty to sire a child of Ruth.5
Further, Naomi tells her daughters-in-law that it is no use
3. G.E. Mendenhall (The Tenth Generation [Baltimore: Johns Hopkins

University Press, 1973], ch. 7) argues plausibly that Israelite law as
administered in the village was not likely to have corresponded exactly to
the laws preserved in our (defective) biblical codes, but will have been
based on local tradition and accepted principle. Campbell uses this
proposal to account for the disparities between Ruth and the Torah codes
(Ruth, pp. 133-38), as do T. and D. Thompson and Beattie. Beattie argues
that the legal settings cannot be impossible or the audience would not
have accepted them; but the audience was as distant as the author from
the former times when the judges judged.
4. Rowley says, 'we are nowhere told of the wife's title to inherit in
Israel, though in 2 Kgs 8.1-6 we find a widow in possession—presumably
in trust for her son' ('Marriage of Ruth', p. 184 n. 2). 2 Kgs 8.5 actually
speaks of'her house and her land'; she was the 'great woman' of 2 Kgs 4.8,
and it would be better to presume that the property was hers as heiress.
5. There are two ways of avoiding this difficulty. One is to assert that
the levirate applied more widely in earlier times; so Rowley, "Marriage of
Ruth', pp. 174-81, comparing laws for blood feuds. But whereas the levir-
ate law is said to have become less strict by the time of Deuteronomy, the
disapprobation for not observing it has become markedly stricter with the
'introduction' of spitting in the face. The other is the less common line of
denying that the levirate is involved (so Sasson, above). This faces the
problem of the extent of the language in common with Deut. 25.5-10.
GOULDER Ruth: A Homily on Deuteronomy 22-25? 309
staying with her, for they could not wait till she bore and
reared sons for them to marry; but such sons would not be of
the 'seed' of Elimelech and Mahlon, and descent through the
mother was irrelevant.6
Ruth 4.5 is a famous aporia. The Hebrew (K) reads, *What
day thou buyest the field of the hand of Naomi and from
(wm't) Ruth the Moabitess, the wife of the dead, I have
bought (qnyty) to raise up the name of the dead upon his
inheritance'. The sense of this is opaque.7 The qere gives
qnyth, qanita, which gives some (if obscure) meaning: thou
hast bought [also] [the duty] to raise up the name...' A
common proposal is to emend wm't to [w]gm 't* (and no doubt
this is correct). One can then translate,'... of Naomi, you have
also bought Ruth the Moabitess...' However, not only would
this be invalid, since the levirate was not incumbent outside
the nuclear family; it was also no more customary to buy one's
wife in Israel than it is in England.9 Nor is this an accident; at
6. Rowley ('Marriage of Ruth', pp. 190-91) says that this is to press

the passage too far. Naomi is merely 'stressing the complete impossibility
of her providing them with fathers for their children'. But this would seem
a rather pointless stress unless levirate husbands were in mind; they
might quite easily have got themselves husbands otherwise by 'following
the young men, whether poor or rich', as is said at 3.10. Cf. Campbell,
Ruth, pp. 83-84: 'we encounter real difficulties...some form of levirate
marriage practice'. The matter is 'nailed down' by the introduction of
yebimtek at 1.15, since the ybm root is found elsewhere only in the
levirate passages in Gen. 38 and Deut. 25.
7. Beattie ('Ketibh') defends K, translating, 'I am acquiring Ruth... '
But qnh (of humans) nearly always means to acquire by purchase, and in
any case the near kinsman would have prior rights. Sasson (Ruth,
pp. 120-36) denies that levirate marriage is in question, and suggests that
Boaz is buying Ruth's services from Naomi. No evidence is alleged for such
payment.
8. *Most editors recognize that the Hebrew text needs to be corrected
by the change of a single letter, to yield "Also Ruth the Moabitess thou
must acquire"' (Rowley, 'Marriage of Ruth', p. 193 n. 1). He is followed by
Sasson (Ruth, p. 122); Campbell (Ruth, p. 146) thinks the mem is enclitic.
9. Campbell comments sensibly, *What does the verb "to buy" come
to mean when applied to Ruth? Is there portrayed here a concept of
marriage by purchase? If so, to whom would be paid a bride-price?'
(pp. 146-47). He escapes the problem through the theory of D.H. Weiss,
4.10 Boaz says, 'Moreover Ruth...have I bought to be my
wife'.10 RVs translation of 4.5, 'thou must buy it also of Ruth',
ignores 4.10, and is hardly defensible.
There is further trouble over the shoe. The plain sense of
the law in Deuteronomy 25 is that the brother who will not
undertake the levirate is disgraced in public. The widow pulls
off (his) his shoe before the elders and spits in his face. But
according to 4.7-8 the 'custom in former time' was in such
matters for the one declining the obligation to draw off (Sip)
his shoe and give it to the one accepting as 'the manner of
attestation'.11 This is very much nicer, especially if there is no
spitting. Not that Ruth is in a position to do such a thing,
since she is not present, although according to the law it is she
who is required to lodge the complaint to the elders.
There is a final muddle in that the whole purpose of the
book has been to 'raise up a name' for Mahlont but once Ruth
is married to Boaz he is totally forgotten, and Obed is said to
be the son of Boaz. Even those who excise the last five verses12
The Use of qnh in Connection with Marriage', HTR 57 (1964), pp. 244-48.
Weiss argued that whereas qdS and 'rs were the normal words for 'marry*
in the Mishnah, qnh was used when goods were also involved; but Sasson
objects (Ruth, p. 123) that the contexts are reminiscent of Ruth, and may
have been influenced by it.
10. The author thought that whoever redeemed the land had to buy
Ruth as part of the bargain. He is likely to have taken the idea that one
bought one's wife 'in the days when the judges judged' from the story of
Samson, who says to his father, 'now therefore get (qhw) her for me to
wife' (Judg. 14.2) and 'pays' thirty changes of raiment; or from the story of
David who 'paid' two hundred foreskins of the Philistines for the hand of
Michal (1 Sam. 18.27).
11. Rowley ('Marriage of Ruth', pp. 182-83) and Campbell (Ruth,
p. 150) agree that in Ruth the shoe symbolizes the transfer of a right.
They do not feel obliged to explain how this early custom (as both of them
believe it to be) became a symbol of disgrace in Deuteronomy 25. One
might have thought that the disgrace would have been sharper in earlier
times, in line with other forms of social pressure.
12. It is the ousting of Mahlon by Boaz that has led to the widespread
treatment of 4.17c-22 as an appendix (Campbell, Ruth, p. 15). But the
logic is poor—the whole book is full of'difficulties'. If the original author did
not have David's ancestry in mind, why is the story set in Bethlehem?
Why are Elimelech's family said to be 'Ephrathites of Bethlehem-Judah"?
have to explain why Mahlon is not mentioned in the narra-
tive; the women say merely, There is a son born to Naomi'.
The paradox is that although the story is in such dissonance
with the law, especially the law in Deut. 25.5-10, the wording
is extremely close; the impression given is rather like a first-
rate sermon on Isaiah 53 by a country vicar who has unfortu-
nately missed the point of the passage by not reading Norman
Whybray13—the preacher is expounding his text phrase by
phrase, but has totally misunderstood its force. We may see
this in the case of Ruth from the following points:
1. Deut. 25.5: If brethren dwell together, and one of
them die, and have no son, the wife of the dead ('eset-
hammet) shall not marry without unto a stranger...
This is exactly the situation in Ruth. Mahlon and Chilion are
brethren dwelling together, and Mahlon dies; Orpah stays in
Moab to find a second husband, but Ruth declines to do that,
nor does she 'follow young men' in Israel (3.10). She is called
the wife of the dead Ceset-hammet) at 4.5.
2. Deut. 25.5: ...her husband's brother shall go in unto
her and take her to him to wife (yabo' 'aleyha
uleqahah 16 le'issa).
The phrase occurs elsewhere only at 1 Sam. 17.12: 'Now David was the
son of that Ephrathite of Bethlehem-Judah, whose name was Jesse'.
Why 4.12, 'And let thy house be like the house of Perez, whom Tamar
bare unto Judah*? Of course the levirate marriage recalls Tamar; but we
might have expected 'Perez and Zerah', as we have 'Rachel and Leah',
unless Perez's house was in mind for a reason. And then the name Obed
becomes pointless, and has to be replaced with a hypothetical earlier
Ben-noam (0. Eissfeldt, The Old Testament: An Introduction [ET; Oxford:
Basil Blackwell, 1966], p. 479; A. Brenner, 'Naomi and Ruth', VT 33
[1983], pp. 385-97 [386]). Cf. also the carrying of an ephah of
barley/parched grain to one's family (Ruth 2.17-18; 1 Sam. 17.17); and
Moab as a place of refuge for David's father and mother in time of trouble
(1 Sam. 22.3-4).
13. It is a great pleasure to be invited to take part in a volume to
honour Norman Whybray, whose robust friendliness and incisive scholar-
ship have made him so widely loved and admired.
In Ruth 4.13, Boaz took Ruth and she became his wife; and
he went in to her (wayyiqqah...lo le'i§Sa wayydbo' 'eleyha).
The preposition 'el is more delicate.
3. Deut. 25.6:... and it shall be, that the firstborn which
she beareth (teled) shall succeed in the name of his
brother that died (ydqum 'al-Sem 'dhtw hammet), that
his name be not blotted out of Israel.
In Ruth 4.13 Yahweh gave Ruth conception, and she bore
(watteled) a son, but unfortunately the author fails to
mention his 'succeeding in the name' of his mother's first
husband. This may be because of his human warmth, which
goes out to the hitherto 'bitter' Naomi; or, if we accept the
final form of the text, because the hidden agenda of the story
has an interest in King David's ancestry. In 4.5 and 4.10 the
duty of the go'el is said to be to raise up the name of the dead
(lehdqtm sem-hammet) on his inheritance, and in the latter
the name of the dead will not be cut off from among his
brethren Cehdyw). It should be noted that in Gen. 38.8 Judah
tells Onan to raise up seed to his brother (haqem zeraO; Ruth
4.5, 10 has retained the noun sem from Deut. 25.6, but has
adopted the hiphil of qum as in Genesis 38, and accordingly
dropped the 'al. The similar le'ahtw comes in Deut. 25.7.
4. Deut. 25.7: And if the man like not to take his bro-
ther's wife, then his brother's wife shall go up to the
gate unto the elders (we'dleta hassatera 'el-hazzeqenim\
In Ruth 4.1-2 it is Boaz who goes up to the gate ('aid haSsa'ar)
and takes ten men of the elders; this is in line with the kindly
spirit of the whole book. It is embarrassing for a foreign girl to
claim her rights against the local Israelite of some substance,
and Boaz, as throughout, behaves like a gentleman.
5. Deut. 25.9:... [she shall] loose his shoe (na^lo) from off
his foot, and spit in his face...
In Ruth 4.7 the former custom is said to have been that a man
drew off his shoe (sdlap Is na'alo), and gave it to his
neighbour (that is the actual go'el) as 'a manner of
attestation'. The kindly author has no wish to drag the near
kinsman in the mud; he wishes in any case to exalt Boaz's
good-heartedness, and this is best done by removing all
reproach from the kinsman, whose only fault becomes his
limited capital. So Ruth is kept off stage, and with her any
suggestion of spitting. The kinsman 'draws off' his own shoe,
where in Deuteronomy 25 the widow pulls it off (his) with
contempt and roughness.14 The whole symbolic action is said
to have been normal in business matters of bargain and
redemption for 'attestation'. The world is close to the vision of
Dr Pangloss.
6. Deut. 25.9:... and she shall answer and say, 'So shall
it be done unto the man that doth not build up his
brother's house' (lo'-yibneh 'et-bet 'ahlw\
In Ruth 4.11 the people and the elders bless Boaz and pray
that Yahweh will make Ruth like Rachel and Leah, 'which two
did build the house of Israel' (banu §etehem 'et-bet Yisra'el).
So many verbal contacts with Deut. 25.5-10 cannot be acci-

dental; and yet the narrative is riddled with what seem to be
misunderstandings. How are we to explain this? If, as is often
thought, Ruth is a late book,15 say, of the fourth century, then
we might think that the Deuteronomic laws have become
14. There is no evidence of the force involved in the qal of his; but the
piel is commonly used of God 'rescuing' his people from trouble, pulling
them out firmly, and in Lev. 14.40, 43 of pulling or tearing out (BDB)
stones from a house.
15. A list of scholars' opinions down to 1963 is given by Rowley,
*Marriage of Ruth', p. 172 n. 1, of whom about half give post-exilic dates.
More recently an early date is given by Campbell and Sasson; a late one
is given by J.-L. Vesco ('La date du livre de Ruth', RB 74 [1967], pp. 235-
47) and J. Gray (Joshua, Judges and Ruth [Century Bible; Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1967]). The issue has often turned on the
claimed Aramaisms, but other arguments are more telling. Ruth is a
family Novette, like Tobit or Susanna or Joseph and Aseneth; it is about a
woman, like Esther, Judith and Susanna; it is an edifying tale in which
faithfulness to God in time of trial comes to a happy ending, like Esther
and Job; it was classed with the Writings despite its belonging by subject
with the Former Prophets. All these associations suggest a late date.
obsolete, and so no longer understood,16 and the author has
made use of them to provide part of the plot of his story, to
give a 'period' feel to it. In the same way he writes 'And it
came to pass in the days when the judges judged', of Orpah
going back 'unto her gods' (cf. Judg. 11.24), of 'the custom in
former time' (cf. 1 Sam. 9.9), and many other period touches.
But then where has the rest of the plot come from?
The theme of ch. 2 is reminiscent of Deut. 24.19:
When thou reapest thine harvest in thy field (kt tiqsor qestrekd
besadeka), and hast forgot a sheaf Comer) in the field, thou shalt
not go again to fetch it: it shall be for the stranger (logger), for the
fatherless and for the widow: that the LORD thy God may bless
thee (yebarekek& YHWH *1oheyka) in all the work of thy hands.
Naomi and Ruth come to Bethlehem in the beginning of the
barley harvest (qe§tr), and Ruth goes and gleans in the field
(sadeh) after the reapers (haqqofrim). It is the portion of the
field belonging to Boaz, who comes, and his reapers say to
him, The LORD bless thee (yebarekeka YHWH\ Ruth had asked
to glean after the reapers among the sheaves (ba^marim).
Boaz is kind to her, and tells the young men to let her glean
even among the sheaves. So Ruth gathers plentifully, for
herself and for Naomi. The story is particularly close to the
Deuteronomy 24 law in that Naomi is a widow, and Ruth is
both a widow and a stranger—this is the only time when we
see this law in operation in the Bible. As in ch. 4, the narra-
tive is marked by an even kindlier spirit than the law
requires. It is not that Boaz's reapers have forgotten a sheaf,
but they are told by him deliberately to let Ruth glean among
them, and even to pull some corn for her out of the bundles.
There are similar laws on gleaning forgertm in Lev. 19.9 and
23.22, with the provision not to harvest the corners of the field
rather than the forgotten sheaf, but they do use the verb to
glean (flaqqet).
A contrast is often also felt to be intended between Ruth
and Deut. 23.3-6.17 The law provides:
16. Vesco, 'La date', p. 242.
17. So Eissfeldt, Old Testament Introduction, p. 483; Vesco, 'La date',
pp. 242-43; Ap-Thomas, 'Ruth', pp. 369-73. Vesco points to the frequent
repetition of'Ruth the Moabitess'. The suggestion is discarded by Rowley
An Ammonite or a Moabite shall not enter into the assembly of
the LORD: even to the tenth generation shall none belonging to
them enter into the assembly of the LORD for ever: because
they met you not with bread and water in the way, when you
came forth out of Egypt; and because they hired against thee
Balaam... Thou shalt not seek their peace nor their prosperity
all thy days for ever.
The law is the more strikingly hostile against Ammonites and
Moabites because of the contrast in the following verses with
the Edomites and Egyptians, Israel's two traditional enemies:
these are not to be 'abhorred', and the children of the third
generation born to them—i.e. the grandchildren of a mixed
marriage—may enter the Israelite assembly. Of the two, the
Moabites are held in the greater abhorrence because their
king Balak was responsible for hiring Balaam to curse Israel.18
Now this passage is expressly cited in Neh. 13.1-3, and is
said to have been read in the audience of all the people; and
in consequence (it appears) Nehemiah persecuted those Jews
who had married women 'of Ashdod, of Ammon, of Moab'
(13.23), when he saw that their children did not speak
Hebrew. He merely contended with them, reviled them, beat
them and pulled out their hair, forcing them to swear to
marry their children only to Israelites; but in Ezra 10, in simi-
lar circumstances, there were compulsory divorces. It would be
easy to understand that liberals (especially any with foreign
marital connections) might wish to influence public opinion in
an opposite direction.
The contrast of Ruth with Deuteronomy 23 is therefore
probably intentional despite the lack of verbal correspondence.
Elimelech and his family are in need of food and drink, like
Israel in the desex-t, and it is to Moab that they go; the
Moabites not only receive them, but supply two extraordin-
arily nice daughters-in-law, one of whom becomes a pattern
proselyte, and the great-grandmother of King David. The
('Marriage of Ruth', p. 173), Campbell (Ruth, p. 27) and (with feeling)

Sasson (Ruth, pp. 246-47), on the ground that Ruth is 'a tale utterly
devoid of factious discord'. But so is Jonah—that may be their art.
18. A more probable reason for the law is the incursions of Ammonite
and Moabite bands into Israel mentioned in 2 Kgs 24.2.
famine in the land of Israel shows that the Moabites have
been a good support to Israel this time; and there seems no
question that one born from a Moabitess in the fourth gener-
ation was quite welcome in the assembly of Israel. A plausible
setting in life is thus suggested for the book. Deut. 23.3-6 is
(from whatever date) a function of the defensive movement in
Israel, the strain most obviously in evidence in the rulings of
Nehemiah and Ezra that Israelites should not have foreign
wives.19 Ruth is a highly skilled counterblast to this. If
Moabites are so decent to famine-struck Israelites, and make
such delightful wives, surely marriages with them should be
acceptable.
In this way it would seem as if the author of Ruth had
derived the plot of his idyll from certain laws in Deuteronomy
23-25; and this impression is strengthened by Deut. 22.30
(Heb. 23.1):
A man shall not take his father's wife, and shall not uncover his
father's skirt (Id'yegalleh kenap 'abtw).
The two cola are in parallel: the man who marries his dead
father's wife is felt to be infringing a tabu and, so to speak,
exposing his father's genitals—cf. Lev. 18.7, The nakedness of
thy father, even the nakedness of thy mother thou shalt not
uncover: she is thy mother'.
This somewhat obscure expression will then provide an
explanation for the puzzling scene in Ruth 3. Naomi instructs
Ruth to go down to the threshing floor, and when Boaz has
done eating and drinking and lies down to sleep, she is to
uncover his 'leg-areas' (wegillit margelotayw, 3.4), and lie
down. Boaz comes, merry at heart, and lies down in a conve-
niently private place, 'at the end of the heap of corn', and
Ruth uncovers him as directed, and lies down; he awakes at
midnight and is startled to find a woman lying by his
marglot. She tells him her identity, and says to him, 'spread
therefore thy skirt (kenapeka) over thine handmaid' (3.9).
19. It should be noted that the liberals had the whip-hand over Ezra
and Nehemiah in this matter; so far from foreign wives being forbidden,
they were expressly permitted, and their rights defended, in Deut. 21.10-
14. The paragraph begins kt tese', 'When you go forth (to war)'.
Boaz accepts her request, and tells her to lie there till
morning; and she lies by his marplot till dawn approaches.
This controverted20 incident seems understandable in the
light of what has been said above. The author of Ruth is
drawing on the corpus of laws in Deuteronomy 22-25, many
of which are obsolete, and not understood. Deut. 22.30 says
that one must not uncover one's father's skirt; and this can be
naturally read to mean that one must not expose his genitals,
literally—a thing that no decent Israelite would wish to do (cf.
Gen. 9.20-27). But the law associates the uncovering of the
skirt with marriage ('A man shall not take his father's wife'),
and the author of Ruth has misunderstood the words to imply
that under certain circumstances it would be proper to
uncover a man's skirt as a preliminary to marriage. The idea
is taken to be sheerly symbolic; no hanky-panky is implied,
and the whole atmosphere is pure as the driven snow. At 2.12
Boaz prays a blessing on Ruth from 'the LORD, the God of
Israel, under whose wings (kenapayw) thou art come to take
refuge'. In the same way at 3.9 Ruth asks Boaz to 'spread thy
wing (kenapeka,y over her; and here the author may be
drawing on Ezek. 16.8, where Yahweh finds the naked,
nubile Jerusalem by the way and spreads his skirt/wing over
her. For an Israelite man to spread his wings over a Moabite
girl would be on a human level what Yahweh is doing by
spreading his wings over her on a divine level: providing for
her, defending her, being served by her—in other words,
marriage. Deut. 22.30 had puzzlingly combined the notions of
uncovering and skirt /wings in a single phrase; Ruth's inter-
pretation requires their separation, uncovering the margelot,
and spreading the skirt /wings.
We have reached what might seem to be a surprising conclu-

sion. The author of Ruth is writing some centuries after
20. Campbell (Ruth, pp. 130-31) stresses the ambiguity of the lan-
guage, and the common use of sexual verbs Skb, yd', bw\ but concludes
that there was no sexual intercourse (p. 138). Sasson (Ruth, pp. 76-77)
leaves the question open. Beattie ('Ketibh', p. 493) thinks it is obvious
that they slept together, as do Nielsen ('Le choix', pp. 205-206) and
Brenner CNaomi and Ruth', p. 387).
Deuteronomy, so that a number of its laws are misunderstood
(22.30; 25.5-10), and one (23.3-6) is being covertly challenged.
But for some reason it is drawing on a small concentration of
laws in Deut. 22.30-25.10, and forming from them the plot of
its story. The motive for doing this may be thought to be the
current pressure against marriage with foreign wives that I
have noted. But it would be satisfying if a reason could be
suggested for the author's exploitation of such a series of
Deuteronomic texts.
Two scenarios may occur to us. On a literary hypothesis, the
author might be a learned man who had access to a copy of
the Torah. He read the prohibition on Moabites in Deutero-
nomy 23, and carefully read through the surrounding text. As
he meditated on it, he began to weave the masterpiece that
we now have, and wrote it down. He circulated copies, and it
became sufficiently popular that in time it came to be
honoured, and its scroll was eventually adopted for liturgical
reading at Pentecost. Such a view is not absurd. It assumes a
leisured and literate public, and the habit of writing and
circulating politico-religious tracts, which we may suspect of
being anachronistic; but of course such assumptions are made
to explain many of our biblical texts.
An alternative might be a liturgical theory from the begin-
ning. Luke tells us that *Moses from generations of old hath in
every city them that preach him, being read in the syna-
gogues every sabbath' (Acts 15.21). We do not know how
many generations of old; but Deuteronomy itself suggests an
original liturgical setting—'At the end of every seven years...
in the feast of tabernacles, when all Israel is come to appear
before the LORD thy God in the place that he shall choose,
thou shalt read this law before all Israel in their hearing*
(Deut. 31.10-11); and Deuteronomy 23 was being read liturgi-
cally in Neh. 13.1-3. People always needed to be taught the
Law, and a continuous history of liturgical reading and
exposition is a likely hypothesis. If so, we may return to our
image of the vicar's moving but ill-instructed sermon on
Isaiah 53. Perhaps a fourth-century country preacher was
called upon to read and expound Deuteronomy 22-25, and
had the genius to do so in the form of a story. Perhaps,
indeed, he told the same story each year in progressively more
detailed form, working in law after law. These laws are read
in a single section in the Jewish cycle to this day; it runs from
Deut. 21.10, the law covering foreign wives, to 25.19, and is
known as kt tese', When thou goest forth'.
INDEX OF REFERENCES
OLD TESTAMENT
Genesis 39 204, 205 18.7 316

2-3 199 39.8-10 205 18.16 285
2.7 268 39.20 205 19.9 314
9.20-27 317 41.8 57 19.18 211,212,
16 268, 269 41.33 295 213
18.12 122 41.39 295 20.10 283
18.16-25 240 41.45 204 20.14 283
18.19 132 41.50 204 20.21 285
20.7 36, 71, 48.11 109 21.8 283
294, 304 49.5-7 296 23 292
21.17 305 50.23 109 23.22 314
24 29
24.34-49 29 Exodus Numbers
26.8 195 1.10 295 11-12 87
28.12 305 3.10-12 28 11 303
34 296 5.6 302 11.24-29 87
35.2 305 5.14 302 11.26-30 294
35.4 305 10.2 182, 184, 11.27 297
38.1-2 283 186 11.28 303
38.1 281 18 304 12.6-8 87, 294
38.2 281 18.4 296 12.6 87
38.3 283, 284 20.22-23.19 303 12.7 304
38.4 283 22.24-25 305 22-24 56
38.5 283, 284 22.24 304 23.7-10 294
38.6 282 24 305 23.18-24 294
38.8 312 24.11 303 23.21 294
38.9 282 32 296 24.7 294
38.11 282, 284 32.27 296 24.17 294
38.12 281, 282 32.28 296 25.13 297
38.14 282, 283, 33.11 303 27.1-11 201
284 33.12 132 27.8-11 308
38.18 282, 285 33.17 132 28-29 292
38.20 281, 285 35.30-35 58 36.1-12 201
38.21 282
38.24 282, 283, Leviticus Deuteronomy
284 10.1-3 84 1 291
38.27-30 283 13-14 57 1.9-18 293
38.29 283, 284 14.40 313 1.13 129
38.30 283 14.43 313 1.15 129, 304
Index of References 321
4.9 182, 185 22-25 307, 317, Judges
5.7 305 318 '5.28 195
5.23 292 22.15 292, 295 8.16 132, 133
6.4-9 168 22.17 295 10.16 305
6.6-9 185 22.18 295 11.24 314
6.14 305 22.23-25 283 14.2 310
6.20-24 182 22.30-25.10 318 17-18 296
7.4 305 22.30 316, 317, 18.31 296
10.6 289 318
10.8 289 23-25 316 Ruth
12.18 296 23 318 1.15 309
12.19 296 23.3-6 314, 316, 1.16 283, 284
13.1-5 87 318 2.12 317
13.2-6 290, 297 24.5-10 285 2.17-18 310
14.27 296 24.8 289 3.4 316
14.29 296 24.19 314 3.9 316, 317
15.3 217 25 310 3.10 309, 311
15.7 217 25.5-10 308, 311, 4 285
15.9 217 313, 318 4.1-2 312
16 292 25.5-6 308 4.5 309,310,
16.18-20 293 25.5 311 311, 312
17.8-13 56, 293 25.6 285, 312 4.7-8 310
17.9 289 25.7 285, 312 4.7 312
17.12 289 25.9 292, 312, 4.10 309, 310,
17.18 289 313 312
18.1 289 25.19 319 4.11 313
18.3 289 26 292 4.12 310
18.6-7 289 26.3-4 289 4.13 312
18.7-8 296 27.1 292, 303 4.17-22 310
18.8 289 27.2-3 303 4.18 286
18.9-22 290 27.5-6 303, 305
18.9-20 297 27.9 289 1 Samuel *•
18.9-14 53 27.14 289 1.13 122
18.15-22 87 27.15-25 305 2.35-36 296
18.15 29, 297 31.9 289, 292, 3.1 37
18.21-22 297 296 6.3 137, 138
18.26 291 31.10-11 318 7.3 305
19.12 292, 295 31.25 289 8.5 294
19.17 56 31.28 296 8.20 294
20.2 57, 289 32.23 270 9 53
21.2 292 32.46-47 184 9.3-10 54
21.3 295 33.8-11 289, 296 9.9 299
21.4 295 33.8 37 9.9 314
21.5 56, 289 10.5 37
21.6 295 Joshua 10.9-12 294
21.10-14 316 1.8 187 10.19 140
21.10 319 4.33 305 14.3 57
21.19 292, 295 14.19 57
14.36-41 57 22 299 9.2 301
17.12 310 22.7 81 10 315
17.17 310 22.13-23 30
18.27 310 22.19-22 73 Nehemiah
22.3-4 310 22.28 88 7.65 61
23.2-12 56 11.1 301
23.9 57 2 Kings 11.7 181
28 53 1.3 53 13.1-3 315, 318
28.6 56 1.15 53 13.23 315
30.7-8 56 2.23-25 38
2.24 56 Esther
2 Samuel 4.25 37 1 206
6.16 195 4.8 308 2.10 206
7.4 56 5 54 2.20 206
7.20 132 6.1-7 54 4.11 206
8.15-18 294 8.1-6 308 5.1-2 206
13.3 295 8.5 308 10 207
14 207 8.7-15 30,54
14.2 295 9.7 297 Job
14.20 295 9.30 195 1-2 200
16.23 295 17.13 297 1.1-2.13 253
17 56 18.1 299, 305 1.1 236, 237
20 207 18.21 305 1.2 198
20.16 295 19.20-20.19 55 1.4 198, 199
20.1-11 54 1.8 236, 237
1 Kings 23 300 1.9 243, 249
2.9 294 23.9 297 1.18 198, 199
3.9 181 24.2 315 2.2 236
3.12 294 2.3 237
3.28 294 1 Chronicles 2.9-10 198
4.8-13 290 2.3-5 286 2.9 236
5.10 294 2.3 282 3.1-42.6 253
9.10-9 77 17.18 132 6.4 270
12.6-8 295 7 265, 266,
12.29 296 2 Chronicles 267, 269
12.31 296 19.4-19 294 7.8 266, 268
13 88 24.22 294 7.9-10 266
13.18 53 26.1o-21 84 7.12 268, 270
13.22 88 26.20 294 7.16 266, 267,
14.2 54 36.22 92 271
17.1-7 54 7.17 268
18 37 Ezra 7.17-20 268
18.28-29 68 1.8 294 7.17-18 266, 267,
18.41-46 54 2.63 61 268
19.5 53 3.12 295 7.19 267, 271
19.7 53 4.4 301 7.20 268
22 57, 81, 5-6 92 7.21 266
88,89 8.15 301 9.5 137
9.20-22 236 Psalms 242, 243,
9.22-24 275 1 187, 240 248, 250
9.22 275 3.7 272 37.10-11 242
10.20 271 5.4 267 37.10 238, 247,
11.6 295 6 37 253
12.4 236 7.3 269 37.11 231, 232,
13.24 271 7.9 271 233, 243,
14.6 271 7.13-14 270 245, 248
16 268, 271, 8 265, 267, 37.12 270
273 268, 269 37.15 270
16.7-17 269, 274 8.5-6 266, 267 37.17 237
16.9 269, 270, 8.6 267 37.18 231, 236,
271 9-10 250 242, 248,
16.12-13 270 9.14 271 249
16.12 268, 270, 10.9 269 37.21 242, 248
273 11.2 270 37.22 231, 232,
16.14 272 11.7 272 233, 242
16.16 273 12 37 37.24 237
19 268, 272, 13.4 271 37.25-26 234, 235,
273, 274 17.12 269 237, 245,
19.6-12 272, 274 17.15 272 250
19.6 272 19.15 187 37.25 234
19.8 272 22.14 269 37.27-28 242
19.11 271 25 187 37.27 236
19.12 272 25.4 188 37.28-29 242, 243
19.26-27 272 25.5 188 37.28 233, 243
22.3 236 25.8 188 37.29 231, 232,
26.7-8 180 25.9 188 243, 248
27.5 236 25.12 188 37.34 231, 232,
27.7 271 25.14 188 233, 234,
29-31 199 25.15 188 242, 243,
30 171 25.21 236 248, 250
31.1 199, 233 26.1 271 37.37-40 237
31.6 236 27.4 272 37.37-38 237, 242,
31.9-12 199 27.9 271 243, 248,
31.9 199 27.13 272 253
33.10 271 33.15 268 37.37 233, 236,
34.6 270 35.1 271 248, 249
40.6-14 275 35.4 140 37.38 233
40.9 275 35.15 137 37.39-40 237, 249
40.12 275 35.16 270 37.39 248
40.28 233 35.24 271 38.3 270
42.7-17 200, 253 37 230, 251 39.14 271
42.7 180 37.3 231, 242 43.1 271
42.10-17 249 243, 253 46.6 267
42.13-15 198, 199 37.4 243 49 251
42.15 200 37.9 231, 232 50.22 269
42.16 109 233, 241 57.5 270
59.5 271 119.73 188, 189 4.1 168
64.4 270 119.93 188 4.3-9 169
64.8 270 119.94 188 4.8 198
66.5-6 184 119.95 189 4.10 168
69.18 271 119.97 189 5.3-14 195
73 251 119.99 188, 189 5.13 168
73.17 248 119.100 189 5.20-23 195
74.13 268, 271 119.102 188 6.1-3 220
74.20 271 119.104 189 6.20 169
78 182 119.105 188 6.24-26 195
78.2 190 119.108 188 6.25 205
78.3-7 183 119.109 188 6.29 212
78.7-8 185 119.120 189 7 195, 204
81.7-8 184 119.124 188 7.10-13 205
82 71 119.125 188, 189 7.17 204
84.10 271 119.129 189 7.23-27 205
90.14 267 119.130 189 8.1-36 164
94.9 268 119.131 189 8.1-21 197
94.18-19 269 119.135 188 8.22-31 197
103.14 131 119.141 188 8.32-36 197
105 182 119.144 189 9 205
106 182 119.148 189 9.1-12 164
112 235 119.153 188 10.5 226
112.10 270 119.171 188 10.21 137
119 188 119.176 188 10.30 233
119.1 188 128.6 109 10.31 233
119.7 188 136 182 11.9 226
119.9 188 143.7 271 11.10-11 209
119.13 188 143.8 267 11.12 222
119.15 188 144 267 11.13 222, 227
119.16 188 144.3-4 267 11.15 221
119.18 189 11.16 197
119.19 189 Proverbs 11.21 240
119.20 189 1-9 162, 168, 11.22 197
119.26 188 169, 193 12.4 197,226
119.27 188, 189 1.2-7 204 12.26 214
119.29 189 1.2 180 13.9 240
119.32 188 1.6 180 13.22 209
119.33 188 1.8 169 14.1 197
119.34 189 1.20-33 164 14,12 238
119.48 189 2.1-5 181 14.20 220
119.52 188 2.6 181 14.21 220, 222
119.55 188 2.7 236 14.31 219
119.61 188 2.22 233 16.10-15 204
119.64 188 3.3 168 16.10 294
119.66 188 3.7 242 16.12-15 294
119.68 188 3.18-20 295 16.25 238
119.71 188 3.27-30 214 16.28 222
16.29 214 27.14 223 4.4 113
17.2 226 27.15 197 5.3 299
17.5 219 28.10 236 5.21 294
17.6 209 28.22 219 6-7 55
17.9 222 29.5 223 6 28, 56,
17.17 209, 215 29.9 226 294
17.18 220 29.10 236 6.1-13 73
18.17 227 29.15 226 6.8 73
18.18 227 30.1-14 173 7 303
18.22 197 30.1-4 181 8.16 57,95
18.24 217 30.9 232 8.20 57
19.4 219 30.23 232 8.23-9.6 96, 103,
19.6 219 31 193 105, 106
19.7 219 31.1 196 8.23 98, 100,
19.13 197 31.10-31 196, 197 102, 103,
19.21 180 31.26 196 104, 105,
19.26 226 107, 299
20.6 224 Ecclesiastes 9.1-6 299
20.13 232 3.1 203 9.1 96, 102,
20.16 221 3.2-8 203 107
20.21 238 3.5 203 9.2 103
21.9 197 3.9 203 9.4 103
21.10 214 5.12 140 9.7-10 299
22.7 219 7.26 201 10.32 113
22.11 217,218 7.29 202 11.9 136
22.17-24.22 162 8.2-4 204 15.4 134
22.18 180 9.9 202 27.1 268
22.22-23 219 10.20 137 28.1-4 299
23.18 233, 238 12.9 168 28.7 81, 299
23.21 232 12.11 180 29.14 294
23.22-25 197 30.1 294
23.27-28 197 Song of Songs 30.8 98
24.14 233, 238 3.8 129, 131 30.9 57
24.20 238 31.1-2 294
24.28 227 Isaiah 35.10 116
25.1 164, 305 1-55 113 37.22 113
25.8 225 1-39 113 38.1-8 54
25.9-10 225 1.1 299 38.21 54
25.11 180 1.3 138 40.1-11 28
25.17 222 1.8 113 40.1 114, 117
26.7 180 1.10-17 57 40.3-5 111
26.9 180 1.21 113 40.9-10 118
26.12 181 1.26 98 41.2-4 111
26.18-19 223 2.1 299 41.4 98,99
27.5 227 2.2-5 299 41.8 110
27.9 216 2.3 136 41.16 103
27.10 215, 216, 3.16-17 113 41.20 103
217 3.25-26 113 41.22-23 100
41.22 102 48.16 100 117, 118
41.25-29 111 48.19 110 51.4 103, 116
41.26 100 48.20-21 119 51.6 116
42.1-7 112 48.20 103 51.7-10 119
42.4 95 49-55 119 51.9-10 116
42.6-7 103 49-52 111 51.9 118, 268
42.8-9 102 49 114 51.11 103, 116
42.9 100 49.1-13 111 51.12-16 116
42.11 103 49.2 117 51.12 117
42.16 103 49.3 112 51.13-17 117
42.24 120 49.4 112 51.13 117
43.5 110 49.5 268 51.14-15 117
43.9 100 49.6 103, 111 51.16 115, 117,
43.18-19 101 49.7 111, 112, 118
44.3 110 119 51.17-23 118
44.6-8 102 49.8 111 51.18-20 122
44.6 98,99 49.9 103 51.19 117
44.7 99 49.12 111, 122 52 119
44.23 103 49.13 103, 117 52.1-3 118
44.25 57 49.14 112 52.2 113, 118
44.26 116 49.15-17 112 52.4-6 118
44.28-45.7 111 49.17-21 112 52.7 118
44.28 121 49.17 112 52.8 103
45.7 103, 268 49.18 115 52.9-10 122
45.11 100 49.19-21 122 52.9 103, 116,
45.18 268 49.19 116 117
45.19 110 49.20 113 52.10 120
45.21 100 49.21 114, 118, 52.11-12 119
45.25 110 119 52.13-55.13 111
46.8-10 101 49.22-23 112 52.13-53.12 120
46.9-11 102 49.22 122 52.13-15 109, 120
46.10-13 111 49.23 112 52.13 119, 120
46.10 102, 121 49.25-26 113 53 120, 311
46.12-13 101 49.25 122 53.1-6 120
47 114 50.1-3 115 53.3 120, 126,
47.1 118 50.1 115, 122 127, 129,
47.8-9 114 50.2 116 132, 133
47.14 103 50.3 115 53.4 120
48 102 50.4-9 115 53.7-9 120
48.3-16 100 50.4 95 53.8 120
48.5 100 50.7 116 53.10-12 121
48.6 100 50.9 115, 116 53.10 109, 121
48.7 100 50.10-11 115 53.11-12 121
48.8 100 50.10 103, 115 53.11 120, 126,
48.12-14 111 50.11 103 127, 128,
48.12 98, 99, 51-52 116 134, 137,
100 51.1 116 139, 140,
48.14 100, 121 51.3 103, 116, 141
53.12 103, 121 23.16 73 3.22-25 274

54.1-3 113, 122 23.18 73 3.23 267
54.1 103, 110, 23.22 73 3.31-32 274
122 23.25 73 3.42 274
54.3 110, 122 23.27 73 3.58-59 274
54.4-10 123 23.28 73 4.6 274
54.4 122 23.32 73 4.12 273
54.11-12 123 24.1-10 30 4.13 274
55.1-4 123 24.1 137 4.20 294
55.1-3 164 26.8 296 4.22 274
55.5 123 26.11 296
55.7 120 26.13 306 Ezekiel
55.10 110 26.16 306 1-3 28
55.12-13 123 26.18-19 90, 305 1-2 73
55.12 103 28 39, 89, 1.3 55
57.3 110 299 7.26 295
57.4 110 28.11 89 8.1 295
59.21 110 28.12 89 13 53
61.2 117 28.15 28 14.1 295
61.7 245 28.16-17 296 16 113, 124
61.9 110 28.17 89 16.8 317
65.3-8 301 29.19 297 16.38-39 124
65.9 110 30.19 102 16.40 283
65.16-17 101 31.19 129 18 123
65.23 110 31.29 125 18.2 125
66.3 301 31.34 136 18.20 125
66.7-14 113 32.25 298 20.1 295
66.13 117 33.22 297 23 113
66.22 110 41.5 301, 306 28.3-4 294
50.17 104, 105 29.3 268
Jeremiah 50.18-19 105 33 123
1 28 51.34 268 34.24 294
1.5 132 37.11 121
4.19 35 Lamentations 37.25 294
4.31 113 1.18 274 42.12 306
6.16 52 1.20 273, 274 42.14 306
7.16 36 1.22 274 43.9 297
8.9 294 2.11 273 44.10 297
9.11 294 2.15 273 44.11 306
10.16 268 2.16 270 44.15 297
11.14 36 3 272, 273, 45.5 297
14.11 36 274 48.11-13 297
18.18 291, 294, 3.2 272 48.22 297
295 3.6 272
19-20 296 3.7 272 Daniel
22.15-16 138 3.9 272 1-6 203
23.9-40 71,73 3.12-13 270 2.12 57
23.9-32 81 3.12 273 5 207
5.1-4 207 3.8 152 Habakkuk
5.6-9 207 4 157 1-2 92
5.10-12 207 4.1-3 27 1.6 92
9.2 91 4.1 143
9.4-19 92 5.13 152 Haggai
9.24-27 92 5.27 303 2.10-14 57
12.4 139 6.4-7 144
6.6 148 Zechariah
Hosea 6.7 157 1.4-6 90
1-3 115 7.1-9 74 1.8 299
1.2 124 7.13 304 3.1-10 73
1.7 300 7.14 82, 86, 7.2-7 57
3.4 56 91 8.4 295
3.5 300 7.14-15 55 13.2-6 91
4.1 138 7.14 299 13.5-6 68
4.4-6 56,81 7.17 157 13.5 91
4.5 299 9.7 154
4.6 138, 303 9.11 300 Malachi
6.6 138 9.12 103 2.4-9 56
7.11 303 2.8 297
8.12 303 Obadiah 3.20 267
9.3 303 13 140
11.1 93 Tobit
13.5 132 Jonah 3.7-9 282
13.10-11 294 4.6 140 8.9-11 282
13.13 295
Micah Judith
Amos 1 303 10.2 282
1-2 303 1.1 299 16.9 282
1.1 299 1.5-6 299
1.2 300 3.5 82, 299 Wisdom
1.3 156 3.8 305 6.12-16 164
2.4-6 300 3.11 56, 299
2.9-11 154 3.12 90 Ben Sira
2.11 154 4.6-9 294 24 164
3.2 132 5.4-14 303 51.23 164
3.3 137
3.7 297
NEW TESTAMENT
Matthew Luke 10.27 211, 212

5.5 245 1.1-2 186 10.29-37 211
5.8 218 1.2 186 16.20 235
22.23-33 285 1.74-75 186
John 1 Corinthians Ephesians
8.5 283 2.4 186 1.1-14 186
14.26 186 11.23 186 4.11-16 186
15.26 186 12.28 186 4.11 186
16.13-14 186 15.3-7 186 4.20-24 186
15.62 186 4.30 186
Acts
6.4 186 2 Corinthians Philippians
15.21 318 1.22 186 3.10 186
3.21 186
Romans Galatians
6.17 186 4.19 186 Colossians
12.2 186 2.6-12 186
2.6-7 186
INDEX OF AUTHORS
Aarseth.A. 264,278 Benveniste, E. 172

Ackroyd, P.R. 128 Berger, P. 27, 36, 37, 40
Aejmelaeus, A. 271,276 Bergler, S. 178
Aharoni, Y. 286 Bergsten, S. 258,276
Albertz, R. 95,101,171, 252 Berry, W. 255
Albrektson, B. 241, 273, 276 Bewer, J.A. 301
Albright, W.F. 290 Bicker-man, E.J. 171
Allen, L.C. 82,138, 139 Blenkinsopp, J. 55, 77, 80, 172
Alonso Schdkel, L. 162 Bloom, H. 259,261
Alt, A. 32,300 Blum, E. 286
Alter, R. 173 Boer, P.A.H. de 99
Anbar, M. 65 Bolle, S.D. 169, 175
Andersen, F.I. 145,147,158 Borges, J.L. 261
Anderson, G.W. 290 Bostrom, L. 176
Ap-Thomas, D.R. 307,314 Bourdillon, M. 50,51
Arnaud, D. 65 Brenner, A. 195, 196, 199, 200,
Assmann, J. 164 203, 317
Astour, M. 286 Bright, J. 157
Auld,A.G. 85 Brown, R.E. 93
Broyles, C.C. 269,276
Bach, A. 206 Brueggemann, W. 161, 166, 182,
Bachli.O. 300,305 236, 241, 243, 245, 247, 250, 254
Backman, G. 262,276 Brunner, H. 165
Baines, J., 167 Bryce, G.E. 57
Bakhtin, 172, 259 Buber, M. 212
Bal, M. 172, 193 Buccellati, G. 175
Barr,J. 126 Budde.K. 300
Barstad,H.M. 119 Biihlmann, W. 163
Earth, H. 97,106 Buis.P. 289
Barthes, R. 257, 259, 262, 276 Buss, M.J. 59
Barton, J. 90,91
Baudissin, H. von 289 Cain,W.E. 262,276
Baumgartner, W. 301 Calvin, J. 235,238,251
Beach, M.A. 52 Camp, C.V. 192,195,196,197, 208
Beardsley, M.C. 259, 260, 262, 276, Campbell, A.F. 53
280 Campbell, E.F. 307, 308, 309, 310,
Beattie, D.R.G. 307, 308, 309, 317 313, 314, 317
Becker, J. 101 Carmichael, C.M. 286
Beidelman, T.O. 46,47 Carroll, R.P. 38, 40, 54, 55, 80, 85,
BenPorat, Z. 259,276 90, 235
Bentzen, A. 289 Cassuto, U. 286
Gazelles, H. 294, 295, 299, 300, Ellermeier, F. 69
302, 303,304 Elliger, K. 118
Charpin, D. 64,78 Ellis, M. deJ. 66,67,73
Childs,B.S. 101 Emerton, J.A. 97, 98,102,104,127,
Chopp, R. 230 128,130,132,133,134,138,141,
Clements, R.E. 97, 209, 217, 305 214, 284, 286
Clines, D.J.A. 120, 159, 249, 267, Engnell, I. 110
272,276 Erikson.V.L. 199
Coats, G.W. 285,286 Erman, A. 63
Cody, A. 296 Eschel.H. 97
Conrad, J. 291 Eslinger, L. 277
Cotter, D.W. 177 Espmark, K. 259, 262, 263, 266,
Cowley, A.E. 298 277
Crenshaw, J.L. 88, 164, 172, 173, Evans-Pritchard, E.E. 46
175,176,177,196,229,236, 252
Cripps,R.J. 143 Falkowitz, R.S. 174
Criisemann, F. 171, 232, 234, 251, Festinger, L. 235
252, 271,276 Fewell, D.N. 160
Culler, J. 257,276 Fichtner.J. 163,177
Fishbane, M. 91,178, 266, 267, 277
Dahl, G. 290 Fleming, D.E. 65
Dahood,M. 237 Fohrer, G. 43, 265, 266, 277
Davidson, R. 190 Foucault, M. 173
Davies.E.W. 307 Fox, M.V. 164,174, 202, 231,251
Day.J. 128,139 Fredriksson, H. 270,277
Dearman, J.A. 255 Freedman, D.N. 145,147,158
Deissler, A. 266,276 Frow,J. 275,277
Delkurt, H. 161 Fukuyama, F. 255
Dell, K.J. 176, 266, 269, 271, 275,
276 Gammie.J.G. 161,229
Derrida, J. 172 Gautier.T. 265
DeVries, S. J. 88 Geertz, C. 239
Di Cesare, M.A. 277 Gelston,A.C. 127,134
Diewert,D.A. 268,277 Gemser.B. 215,225
Dijk-Hemmes, F. van 192, 194, Genette, G. 259, 261, 262, 277
195,196,199,203 Gerstenberger, E. 230, 242, 254
Dion,P.E. 275,277 Gilbert, M. 161,162
Draisma,S. 259,277 Goetze.A. 67,72
Driver, G.R. 129,133, 217, 225 Goldin.J. 287
Driver, S.R. 104, 290 Goldingay, J. 247
Duhm,B. 109,114,189 Golenischeff, W. 63
Durand, J.-M. 64,68, 70, 72,74, 75 Golka.F.W. 178
Dutcher-Walls, P. 302 Good,E.M. 176
Gordis.R. 202,244,251
Eaton, J. 180,184 Gordon, C.H. 71
Eco.U. 260,277 Gottwald, N.K. 231,243
Eichrodt,W. 301 Grabbe,L.L. 45,58,62
Eissfeldt, O. 183,314 Gray.J. 63,313
Gressmann, H. 300,301 Johnstone, W. 128, 131, 132, 135,
Guelich, R.A. 245,248 136,137,140
Gunkel.H. 26,40,285,287 Jones, G.H. 99
Gunn, D.M. 160 Jones, D. 101
Gutierrez, G. 171
Kaiser, O. 110,240,300
Habel, N.C. 28, 40, 266, 270, 272, Keel.O. 173,275,278
277 Kippenberg, H.G. 251
Hackett,J.A. 72 Kittang.A. 264,278
Hammershaimb, E. 145, 153, 154, Klengel.H. 295
155,156 Knibb,M.A. 92
Hanson, P.D. 239 Knierim, R. 250
Haran,M. 167,196 Koch,K. 26,41,231,234
Hardmeier, C. 106 Koehler, L. 181, 188
Harper, W.R. 158,303 Komlosh, Y. 98
Harris, J.C, 174 Kooij, A. van der 72
Harris, R. 165,169 Kovacs.B.W. 244,245
Harris, W.V. 167,168 Kramer, S.N. 165,166
Hayes, J.H. 97 Kratz,R.G. 96
Heintz, J.-G. 72 Kraus,H.-J. 231,248,251
Herion, G.A. 39,41 Krause, M. 170
Hermisson, H.-J. 96,112,177,178 Kristeva,J. 257,259,278
Hildebrandt, T. 177 Kubina,V. 266,275,278
Hirsch.E.D. 262,277 Kuntz, K. 230
Hoftyzer, J. 72
H0genhaven, J. 97 Laato, A 106
Holscher, G. 300 Lafont, B. 76,78
Hoppe, L.J. 289, 290, 291, 295, 300, Lambert, W.G. 77
305 Lang, B. 83
Horst,F. 232,289 Leclercq, J. 289
Horst, P.W. van der 201 Leeuw, J. de 110
Huffmon, H.B. 56 Lemaire, A. 167,298
Humphreys, W.L. 290 Lentricchia, F. 262,278
Hurvitz, A. 106 Levenson, J.D. 177
Hyatt, J.P. 132 Leveque.J. 273,278
Lewis, I.M. 37,45,55
Irvine, S.A. 97 Lichtheim,M. 165,166,170
Liebreich, L.J. 132
Jacob, E. 281, 282, 286, 287 Lienhardt, G. 47,48
Jacobsen, T. 64 Lindblom, J. 25, 27, 33, 41, 80,110,
Jameson, F. 173,246 289, 300
Jamieson-Drake, D.W. 166 Lindstrom, F. 272,275,278
Janowski, B. 277 Lipinski, E. 287
Janzen,J.G. 249,268,277 Livingstone, A. 166
Jardin,A. 259,277 Ljung.P.E. 262,278
Jenny, L. 258, 260, 264, 277 Lohfink,N. 290,302
Jeppesen, K. 110, 112, 113, 121 Long, B.O. 29,41
Johnson, A.R. 55,183, 234 Lowie,R.H. 49,50
Luther, B. 287 Nielsen, K. 259, 278, 307, 317

Luz,U. 245 North, C.R. 130
Noth.M. 32
Macherey,P. 173
Mack-Fisher, L.R. 161 O'Brien, M.A. 302
Malamat, A. 31, 41, 65, 66, 67, 69, Oppenheim, A.L. 70
74, 75,76 Orlinsky, H.M. 43,56
Martin-Achard, R. 150 Overholt, T.W. 39,41
Mathys,H.-P. 211
Mayes,A.D.H. 31,41,303 Panofsky.E. 262,278
Mays, J.L. 82, 143, 148, 149, 152, Parker, S.B. 79
158 Paton.J.B. 301
McCarter, P.K. 170 Paul.S. 297
McCurley, F.R. 300 Penchansky, D. 173
McKane, W. 214, 215, 216, 217, Perdue, L.G. 161, 190, 229, 230,
218, 221, 224,225,232,290 244, 267, 278
McKenzie, J.L. 291 Perlitt,L. 217
Meade.D.G. 101 Perri.C. 259,279
Meeks,M.D. 232 Petersen, D.L. 34, 35, 37, 41, 55, 85
Melamed, E.Z. 98 Pettinato.G. 65
Melugin, R.J. 111 Pfister.M. 259,279
Mendelson, A. 169 PieiNinot, S. 162
Mendenhall, G.E. 308 Pleins,J.D. 171,172,244
Mettinger, T. 176, 268, 275, 278 Ploeg, J.P.M. van der 302
Meyer, B.F. 160 Ploger, O. 216
Meyers, C. 196 Polanyi.K. 232
Miner, E. 258,264,278 Polley,M.E. 71,74
Miranda, J. 245 Polzin, R. 88
Mitchell, W.J.T. 239 Postgate, J.N. 79
Moberly, R.W.L. 131, 132 Premnath, D.N. 255
Moi.T. 172 Preuss, H.-J. 289,300,304
Morgan, D.F. 164 Pritchard, J.B. 77
Mosala,I.T. 254 Pucci.P. 279
Mowinckel, S. 184, 230, 300 Puukko,A.F. 287
Mullen, E.T. 71
Miiller, H.-P. 57,170 Rad, G. von 26, 27, 41, 166, 229,
Munch, P.A. 251 234, 287, 289, 290
Murphy, R.E. 229,230,288 Rainey, A.L. 63
Ravasi, G. 279
Na'aman, N. 97 Reicke, B. 138
Nakata,!. 69,70 Reider.J. 134
Nare.L. 178 Reiner, E. 169
Neal,M.A. 230 Rendsburg, G.A. 287
Nebeling, G. 301 Rendtorff, R. 32, 41,117
Nelson, R.D. 302 Renkema,J. 273,279
Newsom, C.A. 172,192,194 Richter, H.-F. 307
Nicholson, E.W. 290, 300, 305 Richter, W. 28, 41
Niditch,S. 287 Ricoeur, P. 230, 239, 253
Ridout, G. 287 Stierle.K. 279
Riffaterre, M. 259, 261, 263, 264, Still, J. 259,264,280
279 Stone, M.E. 59
Rigby.P. 48,49,59 Sweeney, M.A. 95
Ringe,S.H. 245,254 Sweet, R.F.G. 165,166,170
Ringgren, H. 64
Robert, A. 266,279 Terrien, S. 298
Roberts, J.J.M. 68, 258, 271, 279 Thomas, D.W. 126, 127, 128, 129,
Robinson, T.H. 135 132,133,140,141
Rodd.C.S. 85 Thompson, D. 307,308
Rogerson, J.W. 209,216 Thompson, T.L. 307,308
Rose.M. 301 Thormahlen, M. 257,280
Ross, J.F. 66 Thornton, W. 264,273,280
Rowley, H.H. 84,307,308, 309,310, Toorn, K. van der 33, 41
313,314 Torrey, C.C. 99
Rudolph, W. 303 Toy.C.H. 215,217,225
Trafzer, C.E. 52
Sachau,E. 298 Tsirkin.Y.B. 292
Sakenfeld, K.D. 224 Tsukimoto, A. 65
Sanders, E.P. 160
Sanderson, J. 143 VanderKam, J.C, 58
Sasson, J.M. 307, 309, 313, 314, Van Leeuwen, R.C. 177,240
317 Vaux, R. de 289, 290
Sawyer, J.F.A. 113,122 Vermeylen, J. 95, 105, 106, 107
Schaar, C. 259, 260, 261, 262, 263, Vesco, J.-L. 313,314
279 Vieweger, D. 299
Schmid,H.H. 165,250 Vilchez Lindez, J. 162
Schmidt, W.H. 28, 29,41, 301 Vinge, L. 259,260, 263, 265,280
Schmitt.A. 77 Vollmer, J. 105
Schoors, A. 101 Volz,P. 27,41
Segal, J.B. 62
Seitz, C.R. 101 Wallace, M.I. 253
Seitz.G. 301 Weber, M. 31, 32, 33, 36, 37, 45,
Shupak, N. 77 47
Ska,J.-L. 287 Wegner, P. 97
Skinner, J. 283,287 Weinfeld, M. 190, 290, 291, 293
Skladny.U. 172 Weippert, H. 302
Smend, R. 300 Weippert, M. 72
Smith, M.S. 53 Weiss, M.H. 307,309
Soil, W. 188 Welch, D.H. 300
Speiser,E.A. 281,282,287 Wellhausen, J. 25, 29, 32, 36, 37,
Spieckermann, H. 267,279 42, 43, 290
Stanton, E.G. 206 Werner, W. 107
Starr, I. 67 Westermann, C. 26, 42, 112, 116,
Steiert, F.J. 164 122,161,163,178, 265, 271, 280,
Steiner, G. 262,279 281, 283, 287
Stenning, J.F. 136 Wette, W.M.L. de 300
Sternberg, M. 160 Whitley.C.F. 168
Whybray, R.N. 25, 57, 62, 79, 93, Wimsatt, W.K. 259, 260, 262, 280
95, 99, 103, 108, 109, 111, 112, Wittenberg, G.H. 292
118,119,121,127,128,142,162, Wolde, E. van 259, 280
163,172, 201, 202, 203,219, 229, Wolff, H.W. 151,152,161, 242, 303
233,244,258,274,280,288,291, Worton, M. 259,264, 280
292, 293, 311 Woude, A.S. van der 82
Wildberger, H. 97,105,107 Wright, G.E. 304
Williams, J.G. 36,42 Wiirthwein.E. 300,301
Williams, RJ. 165,177
Williamson, H.G.M. 85, 92, 137 Ziegler, J. 267, 280
Wilshire, L.E. 117 Zimmerli, W. 29,42,231,242
Wilson, R.R. 37, 39, 42, 43, 44, 45, Zimmermann, F. 201
55, 85 Zobel, K. 290
Wilson, B. 45 Zuckerman, B. 176
OTHER FESTSCHRIFTEN
in the JSOT Supplement Series
31 IN THE SHELTER OF ELYON:
ESSAYS IN HONOR OF G.W. AHLSTROM
Edited by W. Boyd Barrick & John R. Spencer
37 UNDERSTANDING THE WORD:
ESSAYS IN HONOR OF BERNHARD W. ANDERSON
Edited by James T. Butler, Edgar W. Conrad & Ben C. Ollenburger
42 A WORD IN SEASON:
ESSAYS IN HONOUR OF WILLIAM MCKANE
Edited by James D. Martin & Philip R. Davies
48 TEXT AND CONTEXT:
OLD TESTAMENT AND SEMITIC STUDIES FOR F.C. FENSHAM
Edited by W. Claassen
58 THE LISTENING HEART:
ESSAYS IN WISDOM AND THE PSALMS
IN HONOR OF ROLAND E. MURPHY, O. CARM.
Edited by Kenneth G. Hoglund, Elizabeth F. Huwiler, Jonathan T. Glass
and Roger W. Lee
67 ASCRIBE TO THE LORD:
BIBLICAL AND OTHER STUDIES IN MEMORY OF PETER C. CRAIGEE
Edited by Lyle Eslinger & Glen Taylor
87 THE BIBLE IN THREE DIMENSIONS:
ESSAYS IN CELEBRATION OF FORTY YEARS OF BIBLICAL STUDIES
IN THE UNIVERSITY OF SHEFFIELD
Edited by David J.A. Clines, Stephen E. Fowl & Stanley E. Porter
100 A TRIBUTE TO GEZAVERMES:
ESSAYS ON JEWISH AND CHRISTIAN
LITERATURE AND HISTORY
Edited by Philip R. Davies & Richard T. White
114 A TRADITIONAL QUEST:
ESSAYS IN HONOUR OF LOUIS JACOBS
Edited by Dan Cohn-Sherbok
138 TEXT AS PRETEXT:
ESSAYS IN HONOUR OF ROBERT DAVIDSON
Edited by R.P. Carroll
149 PRIESTS, PROPHETS AND SCRIBES:
ESSAYS ON THE FORMATION AND HERITAGE OF SECOND TEMPLE
JUDAISM IN HONOUR OF JOSEPH BLENKINSOPP
Edited by E. Ulrich, J. Wright, R.P. Carroll & P.R. Davies
154 MINHAH LE-NAHUM: BIBLICAL AND OTHER STUDIES PRESENTED TO
NAHUM M. SARNA IN HONOUR OF HIS 70TH BIRTHDAY
Edited by M. Fishbane & M. Brettler

Homenaje Whaybray PDF

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Homenaje Whaybray PDF

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Homenaje Whaybray PDF

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

What is the book about based on the title and contents?

What is the book about based on the title and contents?

What are some of the topics discussed in the book based on the table of contents?

What are some of the topics discussed in the book based on the table of contents?

JOURNAL FOR THE STUDY OF THE OLD TESTAMENT

Journal for the Study of the Old Testament

Published by JSOT Press

Typeset by Sheffield Academic Press

Production Editor Typesetter

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

Of Prophets' Visions and the Wisdom of

Publications of R. Norman Whybray 19

Hugh G.M. Williamson

David J.A. Clines

Tryggve N.D. Mettinger

Index of Biblical References 320

Athalya Brenner is Senior Lecturer in the Department of

Knud Jeppesen is Lecturer in Old Testament Studies,

Norman Whybray was born on 26 July 1923 at East Molesey,

The circumstances of his early career led to the fact that

Works Edited or Co-Edited

The Japan Christian Yearbook, 1965 (Tokyo: Kyobunkwan)

Wisdom Psalms' (J.A Emerton Festschrift).

* It is a privilege to offer this as a tribute to Norman Whybray, both

In relation to the prophetic call, Lindblom (1962: 182) argued:

1. The formal structure of the call narrative has been investigated

The visionary experiences of the prophets may also be given

The word charisma is associated particularly with the work of

3. For a good treatment of charismatic leadership within the Weber

here these same concerns are dominant and characteristic.4

4. For a somewhat similar understanding, cf. van der Toorn 1987:

The question of the relationship of the Israelite prophets to the

sanctuary of Shiloh (1 Sam. 3.1); the band of prophets whom

7. See the critical discussion by Herion (1986: 10-14).

From the time of Wellhausen the 'classical prophets' were

1. See especially J. Wellhausen, Prolegomena to the History of Israel

Religious Specialists in Anthropological Study

4. See M. Weber, The Sociology of Religion; the edition I have used is

and figures made by I.M. Lewis, Ecstatic Religion: A Study of Shamanism

10. Beidelman, *Nuer Priests', p. 377.

14. Lienhardt, Divinity and Experience, esp. pp. 206-18.

Plains Indians of North America20

18. Rigby, 'Prophets, Diviners, and Prophetism', p. 139.

24. Bourdillon, Shona, pp. 243-49.

The Prophet Smohalla among the Washani Indians27

Religious Specialists in Israel

28. For a recent study of the development of Israelite religion from

31. Cf. J. Blenkinsopp, Prophecy in Ancient Israel (London: SPCK,

34. See, e.g., the articles of Orlinsky cited above.

The Position of the 'Wise' in Society

36. R.N. Whybray, The Intellectual Tradition in the Old Testament

39. See the section above on the Shona.

Conclusions and Implications

may simply be traceable to the selective reporting of our

Modern study of near eastern (non-Israelite) prophecy,

The Western Hypothesis

4. H. Ringgren, 'Prophecy in the Ancient Near East', in Israel's

Prophetic Texts: Literary and Historiographic Considerations', JCS 41—

Prophecies and Dreams